Written by Larry C. Roff |
Wednesday, August 9, 2023
Enshrined in the Westminster Confession of Faith (and also in the Directory for Worship) is the fact that worship is so important to the Lord that He has regulated it in His Word so that we might render worship to Him in a way, both in the elements and attitudes of worship, that it is acceptable and not offensive to Him, and therefore also beneficial to His people as they gather in corporate worship. 

It takes more than Reformed doctrine preached from the pulpit to make a church “Reformed.”  At the time of the Reformation, the first thing that people saw and heard that alerted them to the reality that something had changed was the worship service, its structure and contents as well as its “feel.”  It was conducted in their language, it included doctrinal preaching, they were taught to sing, and the worship order was re-formed based on a biblical pattern rather than on the traditional (unbiblical) Roman Mass.
Is there something lastingly and recognizably unique about Reformed worship today? It is not unusual that in our day we find worship practices that demonstrate surprising diversity, often incredibly different from one another.  Too many seem driven not by a desire to discern from Scripture what God desires and delights in with our worship, but rather either thought-less tradition, or to do what we find most satisfying in achieving our goals of enrichment, enlightenment, outreach, and sadly, even entertainment.  And with so many denominational as well as theological and cultural varieties offered on the smorgasbord of worship possibilities, is it fair to ask the question, “What is unique to and recognizable about Reformed worship?”  I ask these questions out of decades of first-hand exposure to and participation in worship practices in countless churches across the nation in our denomination, as well as from teaching Reformed worship in a seminary.
Enshrined in the Westminster Confession of Faith (and also in the Directory for Worship) is the fact that worship is so important to the Lord that He has regulated it in His Word so that we might render worship to Him in a way, both in the elements and attitudes of worship, that it is acceptable and not offensive to Him, and therefore also beneficial to His people as they gather in corporate worship.
Here are brief descriptions of the widely recognized “Elements of Worship” which we find in His Word.  All of these, and nothing in addition to these, are biblically legitimate.  While we have great freedom in the details of how we implement these elements in our services, we may not add to these in our worship, or omit any of these from our worship, if we truly desire to please Him.
Reading Scripture
Not just a short passage as the text for the sermon, but substantial and multiple portions of Scripture at appropriate places in the worship service.  Readings from all parts of Scripture should regularly include OT historical books, Psalms and prophets, as well as Gospels and Epistles. This need not follow a lectionary, should assure that God’s Word is heard prominently in our services.
Preaching His Word
Expository proclamation of His inspired Word, with explanation of the context and theme, elucidation of the doctrines included, and helpful application for the hearer’s benefit.  It is important that these be gospel-focused, Christ-centered, aimed to both mind and heart, and not merely running commentary or simplistic moralistic lessons or group therapy sessions.
Profession of Faith
Publicly reaffirming our faith is virtually like a pledge of allegiance.  Most churches use the Apostles’ Creed for this purpose, but there are many other resources available, such as Nicene, Westminster, and Heidelberg.  It has been historically done with the Gloria Patri immediately following as a doxological conclusion. In Anglican worship, the Gloria typically follows a Psalm.
Prayer
In a Reformed (or any!) church, this should not just be a brief opening prayer, but substantial prayers throughout the service, such as invocation, confession of sin, pastoral prayer, thankfulness and intercession, dedication of offerings, etc.  The importance of these prayers suggests that just as time is spent in preparing the theme, structure, and content of the sermon, so should time be spent by the worship leader to plan at least the outline, if not the very words of these prayers.
Singing
Congregational singing of Psalms (especially!) and hymns should give everyone present the opportunity to participate with doctrinally sound texts and musically singable compositions at numerous places in the service.  While this element may include instrumental music and choral anthems, these should never replace the singing of the entire congregation.  Rubrics spoken before the hymn, communicating something about the text or background of the song (including author and composer), can add substantially to people’s understanding and enthusiasm in singing.
Offering
As an act of worship, people actually present their tithes and offerings, either by collection in the pews or by deposit in a box.  They must understand it as giving to the work of the gospel out of obedience to and love for the Lord, not as mechanically paying church bills!  Carefully planned rubrics can regularly re-establish the biblical basis and mandate (and blessing!) of tithing.  Sometimes this act of worship precedes the sermon; sometimes it becomes one of the final acts of worship before people depart.
Sacraments
While not necessarily present in every service, these are conducted as part of the service for all the people, not in private rituals apart from the corporate worship of the entire church (other than with shut-ins and elderly, and then along with at least one ruling elder).  While baptism will be administered only when there are candidates, the Lord’s Supper should be observed frequently, if not weekly.  The right administration of the sacraments has become widely recognized as one of the marks of a true church since the time of the Reformation.
Vows
The biblical pattern of taking solemn vows is always done with great solemnity.  This will most often take place on occasions such as baptisms, reception of new members, ordination of officers, and occasionally with weddings (which are also worship services).
Benediction
While many, even ministers, view this as merely a closing prayer, it is not a prayer at all, but rather a pronouncement of God’s blessing (from the Latin “benedictus”) as the minister raises his hands over the heads of the congregation, as done by the patriarchs of the Old Testament with their offspring, with the people’s eyes open to see as they hear words of God’s promise for them.  It is only ordained ministers who are authorized to pronounce this Benediction, not lay worship leaders.  Many will prefer to use a Scriptural passage so that these are actually God’s words, rather than a benediction of their own composing.  And a Benediction is a pronouncement of divine blessing, which differs from an Ascription of Praise, as will often be found near the beginning of the service.
Recognizable Distinctives of Reformed Worship
These are distinctives that would be clearly recognized by anyone visiting the church for the first time.  They will be present regardless of the “style” of worship, whether classical or contemporary, whether formal or informal.  They include the fact that we today are part of “the church militant” (still struggling with sin here in this life) and we are not yet part of “the church triumphant.”  Another way of expressing that is that we are still the church “in the wilderness” and not yet the church “in the promised land.”  Our worship today is to be full of celebration and joy in anticipation of that which is now occurring in heaven, but it is also to be full of the humble, repentant spirit of hearts still dealing with the fall and its consequences in our own souls as well as in our world and culture.
God-centered atmosphere
This ought to be one of the most immediately and repeatedly evident dimensions of our worship to people throughout the service.  In Reformed worship there will be a balanced sense of both God’s transcendence above us and His immanence with us.  People should leave with an attitude, not so much as having been in an informal gathering with friends, as with a majestic and humbling meeting with God.  Our desire is that people should know that God was present in every moment.  This is somewhat intangible as a mood in worship, that while it can be deemed to be more God-centered as a subjective evaluation, is none-the-less real, and certainly ought to be desired.
Historically-informed liturgy
In Reformed worship there will be a logical and biblical structure that organizes the elements in far more than just a few songs and a sermon, strung together one after another as pearls on a necklace.  Historically, and for centuries, a common pattern has evolved that follows the pattern in Isaiah 6 of adoration (“I saw the LORD”) – confession (“Woe is me”) – exposition (“Speak to these people”) – dedication (“Here am I, send me”).  In addition, there will be a clearly recognizable central theme for the service, connecting all parts of the service with the primary focus of the scripture and sermon as much as possible, with prayers and hymns chosen to support that theme.
Continuity between the present and the future
A Reformed church will take seriously our biblical profession of the timelessness of worship, found in such doxological phrases as “as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.” There are certainly fundamental distinctions between the cultic liturgical acts of Leviticus and the Christological fulfilment we find in Hebrews.  And we have not yet arrived at the perfect worship that is currently being offered to the Lamb by saints and angels before the throne of God in heaven.  But at the same time, Reformed worship will recognize the continuity between all three by finding those timeless principles in each so as to consciously and deliberately incorporate them into our worship today.  This is part of what we believe about the fellowship of (all) the saints.
Confession of Sin
In Reformed worship, the essentials of the gospel will be present in the service, not merely in the sermon.  This means that our need (sin) and God’s grace (pardon) will always be a part of the liturgy, highlighting both law and grace in balanced messure.  That is most often done early in the service with a confession of sin (perhaps offered in unison, and with time for silent personal confession), followed immediately by an assurance of pardon (from a specific scripture verse).  Both of these can be augmented by use of a hymn of confession (such as “Rock of Ages”) and a hymn of forgiveness (such as “Blessed Assurance”).
Worship leadership and rubrics
Constitutional guidelines in most Reformed denominations not only limit ordained office to men of the congregation, they also limit worship leadership (not only preaching) to ordained elders, and primarily the pastor.  Worship leadership includes planning as well as conducting worship in harmony with biblical principles.  In addition, worship leadership becomes much more effective when carefully planned rubrics give information and motivation to people in everything from songs and offering to scripture reading and prayer.  If care is not taken, these can become empty of meaning when the same words are used over and over again every week.
Priesthood of all believers
At the time of the Reformation, this meant that every believer had immediate access into the presence of God, without the need for priests or saints to intercede for them.  It also meant that every believer had the right to study the Scriptures without submitting to the official (and often incorrect) interpretation of the clergy.  In Reformed worship today, it is expanded to include the active participation of every member of the congregation in the worship service (especially in singing), without abandoning the elders’ oversight of worship by having worship planned and led by ministers duly ordained to that office.  Keeping this in balance protects the biblical integrity of the service while avoiding the danger of turning the congregation into passive spectators.
Regular singing of Psalms
In Reformed worship, the Psalms are an invaluable source of worship that points us to God, and in this instance, by praising Him with the very words He has given us in the 150 Psalms.  Since the Psalms contain so much about the character and work and majesty of God as well the weaknesses and longings of the redeemed heart, though we need not be singing exclusive psalmody, at least one Psalm will wisely be used at some point in the service each week.  In recent years, this has become much more accessible with hymnals and psalters that include many (if not all) of the Psalms.  In too many instances, hymnals are selected that have only Psalms 23 and 100 included.
Use of spiritual gifts
While spiritual gifts are not the same as talents, they involve the use of Spirit-given abilities when used for the benefit of the church.  We regularly recognize such gifts as teaching and counseling and leadership, but we also find spiritual gifts in the arts, both visual and aural. When it comes to music, a Reformed church will honor those who have vocal and instrumental musical gifts, and will afford opportunities for them to offer those as a sacrifice of praise to God.  Thus, there is a place for choirs and instrumentalists to offer great music in worship, especially music that is beyond the ability of the untrained.  There is no more illegitimacy for one person to sing a solo to God on behalf of others than it is for one person to lead in prayer on behalf of others, not as a performance for the acclaim of people, but of God.
Thoughtful use of hymnody
In Reformed worship the songs chosen for people to sing are “screened” doctrinally, musically, and for literary quality, not just by the music leader, but also by the pastor. In addition, they are selected and placed where they “fit” in the service.  Rather than simply selecting a few songs people enjoy singing, the one who plans the service will choose and place a song or chorus at the appropriate place in the service.  Thus we would not sing “We Come, O Christ, to You” or “We Gather Together to Ask the Lord’s Blessing” at the conclusion, or “Lead On, O King Eternal” nor “God Be With You Till We Meet Again” at the beginning!
Breadth of musical style
While not an essential biblical principle, a use of musical styles of all sorts and multiple historical periods will be found in Reformed churches, a decision that is motivated not so much as a matter of catering to the desires and preferences of the people as it is driven by a desire to honor the God-given spiritual gifts of musical artists of all ages, from baroque to contemporary.  Since different revitalizing themes in hymns will be found in each historical period, it will be wise to use a wide repertoire of hymns from the early church through the Reformation, Great Awakening, Romantic, Folk, and Gospel songs, as well as the best of contemporary hymnody.  With so much music, especially hymnody, available for use today, it is sad to find so many churches using such a narrow body of hymns, frequently almost all from 19th century Gospel Songs.
Excellence in all aspects of music
Sadly, it is not uncommon today to find Reformed churches in which the pastor has introduced a dynamic that suggests that worship is composed of two parts: the “preliminaries” and his sermon.  This sometimes extends to an extreme position that forbids any observance of Christmas or Easter, as well as a refusal to allow choral and instrumental music in the church, apart from an intentionally “plain” style of congregational hymn singing.  If we agree that the Psalms are to be sung in worship, how can we sing Psalm 150 and forbid musical instruments, since in the Psalm God commands the use of every musical instrument known to Israel at that time, from wind to percussion (“let everything that has breath praise the LORD”).  And if we are to play skillfully (Psalm 33:3), surely that encourages musical excellence and variety in everything from hymn accompaniment to choral anthems, as long as these are not replacing but only enhancing congregational singing.
Simplicity in attractive but unadorned building
With many different architectural styles, one common characteristic in Reformed churches will be great caution in avoiding anything that tends toward idolatrous attention to images that would violate the second commandment.  Reformed churches can be beautiful without being ornate. There are also very important acoustical principles that aid in people’s hearing the speaker as well as hearing one another singing by having an acoustically “live” and moderately resonant room, not so “deadened” with excessive seating pads, carpet, curtains, sound-absorbing tiles, etc.
Furnishings that are theologically consistent
This will include a central pulpit, and resources for the sacraments: visible communion table (NOT altar!) with chairs, as well as a baptismal font, both in public view in every service, even when not used that day.   It will also include a well-lit room from either/or natural light from windows and electrical lighting. It will not suggest that the front area is a stage for people to observe performers, all brightly lit but without manipulative concert elements like colored lights and smoke, while the rest of the room is darkened.  A darkened room tends to suggest that the congregation is unimportant; that it is primarily the “up front people” that matter.
Healthy appreciation for beauty
One of the classical dimensions in the triad of transcendental values is beauty, along with truth and goodness.  All three are rooted in the very character of God, from whom all truth, beauty, and goodness flow.  There is nothing in existence whether material or spiritual that is more beautiful than God.  In Reformed worship, as we seek to communicate the character of God, beauty is one of the things for which we aim.  We read in Psalm 96:9 that we are to worship in the beauty of holiness. Since God is a spirit, His beauty is not to be found in material things.  But surely there ought to be a sense of beauty that is recognizable in our worship.  One of the most beautiful things, certainly is the magnificence of redemption. Should we not then also strive to create a service in which there is beauty in what is preached, beauty in the music we hear, beauty in the setting in which we meet, and beauty in the fellowship which we extend to one another?  Sadly, I fear that we who are Reformed can sometimes justifiably be accused of being afraid of beauty.
Centrality of the heart
Finally, and very importantly, in Reformed worship there is the matter of the condition of the heart of the worshiper.  Jesus told the woman at the well, not that God is seeking worship, but rather worshipers, those who will worship Him in spirit and in truth.  He’s more concerned with the heart of the worshiper than He is in the liturgy that we use.  Our God searches hearts.  The last thing we would expect to find in Reformed worship is lifeless, mechanical performance in which the soul is un-engaged with God, and distracted by other things.  To the contrary, Reformed worship exists where humbled sinners come together in His presence to rejoice with reverent exuberance, as a foretaste (and perhaps even rehearsal) for our future eternal heavenly worship.
Dr. Larry C. Roff is a Minister in the Presbyterian Church in America, Editor of the Trinity Hymnal, and Organist for the PCA General Assembly.
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While the ministry of John the Baptist may not seem like it is important eschatologically, it contributes much to our understanding and to world history. First, his coming begins the cataclysmic and seismic shift from the old world of Judaism to the new world of the Kingdom of God. His coming signaled the end of the Old Covenant order and heralded the beginning of the Kingdom of God. What a monumental life and role that the Lord allowed this humble servant to have.

Hurry Up and Wait
It’s a rare occasion when only four words can summarize a major chapter of your life or the organization to which you belonged. But, “hurry up and wait” certainly fits that bill. From my earliest moments of hurrying up to wait at MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station); to the chaotic screams of drill sergeants prodding us urgently off busses, leaving us standing there for hours in an empty parking lot, leaving us wondering what was going to happen next and when would we get new orders; to the meticulous packing and shipping of all of our gear, thousands of miles away to Iraq, so we could sit in empty bedrooms waiting for the orders to come down. The military is a hurry up and wait kind of place.
Perhaps, this is how John the baptist felt as he was sitting in prison, soon to be executed. The LORD had called him to preach fiery, desperate, sermons to the apostate Jewish nation. Like the prophets of old, the Spirit of God had stirred up incendiary words within the vagabond prophet’s mouth, which did not make him any friends, but did bring him plenty of foes. To John, the warnings God told him to declare felt grave, pressing, and imminently dire and he certainly was urgent in speaking them. But now, sitting in a dank Jewish prison, John must have wondered when were all of these cascading judgments to come about.
Think about it this way. John was like a traveling geologist who was sent to warn a small mountain village of coming destruction. He had noticed that the rock structures above were unstable and that a deadly rockslide would soon destroy the town. So, he entered the city urgently, warning them, “flee from the disaster that is to come”, but few would listen to him. In fact, they became so annoyed by him, that they arrested him and threw him into the local prison. To add insult to injury, they viciously mocked the poor man, discrediting his “expert” opinion, leaving him to rot in the dampened cell alone. Before long they executed the man, believing his quackery had been disproven, as the city was lulled into a false sense of security and hope. For just a few months later, the deadly landslide consumed them all and there wasn’t a single survivor. This was the kind of ministry John the Baptist was called to. He was called to hurry up and wait.
John and the Prophet of Doom
As we learned last week, Malachi is often called the prophet of doom because of the calamitous prophecy he proclaimed against the belligerent people of God. He warned them that God was going to send a sudden devastation by fire that would overtake the nation (Malachi 3:3). This fire, according to Malachi, would coincide with the appearance of YHWH’s messenger, whom Malachi called “Elijah” (Malachi 3:1). That coming messenger, Jesus tells us, was none other than John the Baptist (Matthew 11:14). This means that John the Baptist would not only prepare the way for the Lord, who would save His people from their sins, but would also warn the rebels of the awful judgment that Christ was going to bring against them. John’s appearing as end-time prophet coincides with Malachi’s imminent eschatological judgment against the Jews.
Why is this so important? Because we tend to think of John the Baptist as Jesus’ eccentric first cousin, who shows up eating grasshoppers, dressed in camel skinned robes, with the role of introducing Jesus to the world. That is kind of true, but it misses the entire theme of imminent judgment that is so carefully woven into the narrative. When John steps onto the scene in Judea, his goal is to warn the people that the Christ has come. For those who repent, they will be saved. For those who resist, they will experience a kind of hell on earth.
John and the End of Apostate Judah
While we don’t have a panoply of quotations from John, we have more than enough information to validate what Malachi says about him, that he is the prophet who will precede imminent judgment. For instance, his father Zechariah (through the Holy Spirit) fully anticipated his boy would grow up to become “the messenger” of destruction foretold by Malachi (Luke 1:76-79). John, himself, believed he was the forerunner of the light-bearing Christ (Malachi 4:2; John 1:6-8, 23), who would bring healing to some and disaster unto others.
We know this was John’s focus, because the tone of his ministry is all about repentance (Luke 3:3; Matthew 3:1).
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The elements of the Lord’s Supper understood as a true natural image of Jesus must incorporate the literal physical body and blood of Jesus. This understanding of the Lord’s Supper is a logical implication of the eighth century Christological argument.

In the history of the Christian church, there have been two very significant documents related to an argument against all visual representations of Jesus, an argument commonly called the Christological argument. The first document is a statement of the decisions of a church council held near Constantinople in 754. The second document is the eighteenth century book by Ralph Erskine, Faith No Fancy. The eighth century and the eighteenth century versions of the Christological argument have much in common, but they also have their differences. Each version was also associated with a particular understanding of the Lord’s Supper.
Let’s begin with the eighth century Christological argument. A church council in the year 754 condemned all images representing Jesus in His humanity based on the Christological argument. A subsequent church council in 787 reversed this decision and also condoned the veneration of images as an element of Christian worship. The 787 church council was the Second Council of Nicea, the seventh and last of the early ecumenical councils recognized by both the Roman Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church. After the 787 council, the controversy flared up again in the east but was soon settled permanently in favor of those who venerated images.
After this, the eighth century Christological argument seemed largely forgotten. The eighth century Christological argument had stirred up controversy in the eastern churches associated with Constantinople but not in the western churches associated with Rome. Also, as we will see, the eastern understanding of images of Christ soon changed in a way that made the eighth century Christological argument irrelevant even in the east.
In the years leading up to the 754 council, the eastern emperor Constantine V originated the eighth century Christological argument. His main critic was John of Damascus, a Christian theologian who lived in an area under Muslim control where he was free to criticize the emperor’s views. These two opponents shared a common foundational understanding about the basic nature of any visual representation of Jesus. They both regarded such images as natural images as opposed to artificial and external images. Using modern comparisons, this means that their common understanding of an image of Jesus had more in common with a clone, which is a natural image, than it had with a digital picture, which is an artificial and external image. Their common foundational understanding was based on the idea that God the Son as the divine image of God the Father is the pattern for understanding the relationship of a visual image of Jesus to Jesus himself. God the Son is a natural image of God the Father in that they both are fully divine and thus both have the same nature. Thus, they reasoned, a visual image of Jesus must also be a natural image of Jesus. They shared this understanding of visual images of Jesus but came to opposite conclusions. John of Damascus believed that such images should be venerated, and Constantine V believed that they should be prohibited. There was no thought of the possibility that there could be an artificial and external visual representation of Jesus in His humanity that was neither a proper object of worship nor a necessary object of censure.
The eighth century Christological argument presented a dilemma regarding any visual representation of Jesus that was regarded as a true natural image. A summary statement of this dilemma is found in the decisions of the 754 council:
Whoever, then, makes an image of Christ, either depicts the Godhead which cannot be depicted, and mingles it with the manhood (like the Monophysites), or he represents the body of Christ as not made divine and separate and as a person apart, like the Nestorians. (Percival, p. 544)
In other words, if anyone tried to make a visual representation of Jesus that was a true natural image, he had to choose his poison, either monophysitism or Nestorianism. A true natural image of a monophysite Jesus is theoretically possible because the human and divine natures are blended and thus are depictable in a true natural image through the human element. Also, a true natural image of a Nestorian Jesus is theoretically possible because the human and divine natures are separated, with a divine person subsisting in the one divine nature and a human person subsisting in the human nature. The human person subsisting in a human nature is depictable in a true natural image separate from the divine person subsisting in the one divine nature. Yet an orthodox Jesus is not depictable through a true natural image. The orthodox doctrine, affirmed by the Council of Chalcedon in 451, is that Jesus has two natures, the one divine nature and a complete and genuine human nature, that are never separated but also never mixed or confused. For anyone who tries to make a true natural image of Jesus, the choice is between either depicting the undepictable or separating the inseparable. Both choices involve a serious Christological heresy: either Nestorianism, which separates the two natures, or monophysitism, which blends the two natures. With both horns of the dilemma rejected, the implication was that all visual representations of Jesus should be prohibited and avoided. This argument was very effective in a context where Christological heresy was taken very seriously.
Yet the eighth century Christological argument did not deprive the church of every possible visible representation of Jesus. The 754 council pointed to the Lord’s Supper as a valid visual image of Jesus. What finite humans could not do through icons, God could do miraculously through the Lord’s Supper. According to the eighth century Christological argument’s understanding of a valid image, the Lord’s Supper must be a true natural image of Jesus in order to be a valid image of Jesus. If the Lord’s Supper is not a miraculously effected natural image of Jesus, then the dilemma of the eighth century Christological argument would apply to it as well. The same 754 council that stated the eighth century Christological argument also made this statement regarding the Lord’s Supper:
And the body of Christ is made divine, so also this figure of the body of Christ, the bread, is made divine by the descent of the Holy Spirit; it becomes the divine body of Christ by the mediation of the priest who, separating the oblation from that which is common, sanctifies it. (Percival 2011, p. 544)
The elements of the Lord’s Supper understood as a true natural image of Jesus must incorporate the literal physical body and blood of Jesus. This understanding of the Lord’s Supper is a logical implication of the eighth century Christological argument.
The dilemma of the eighth century Christological argument could have been avoided altogether if visual representations of Jesus in his humanity had been regarded as artificial and external images. This insight was not suggested until later by Patriarch Nicephorus (c. 758-828), who was the first to give an effective answer to the eighth century Christological argument. John of Damascus had thought in terms of ontological Platonic participation. In contrast, Patriarch Nicephorus analyzed the issue in terms of Aristotelian logic. In his argumentation against the eighth century Christological argument, Patriarch Nicephorus defined the icon as an artificial external image:
It is a likeness of its living model, and through this likeness it expresses the entire visible form of the one it depicts; yet it remains in essence distinct from this model because it is of a different matter. (Schoenborn 2011, location 3036, p. 87)
With this understanding of visual representations of Jesus in his humanity, the eighth century Christological argument became irrelevant.
Sadly the eastern church continued its veneration of icons of Jesus. A third and final foundational thinker on this issue arose in the eastern church, Theodore the Studite (729-856). Like Patriarch Nicephorus, he explained images in Aristotelian relational terms and not in Platonic terms of ontological participation. Yet he went beyond Patriarch Nicephorus by clearly stating that to see an icon of Christ is to look upon the divine person of Christ. The basic contention of Theodore the Studite was that an icon of a person depicts not that person’s nature but that person’s person. He claimed that the personal connection between a visual image of Jesus and Jesus himself was the icon’s physical resemblance to the historical Jesus. The eastern church had a legend explaining how the knowledge of Jesus’ physical appearance had been preserved for use in painting icons. Like John of Damascus, Theodore the Studite held to an intrinsic connection between the image and its prototype, though on the level of personhood and not on the level of essential nature.
The 754 council became irrelevant even in the east, and many of its documents were lost. We know about their content mainly from their being quoted by the 787 council in the process of condemning them. We do not later read about the eighth century Christological argument even as a defense of the iconoclasm associated with the Protestant Reformation in the sixteenth century. The Protestant Reformer Peter Martyr did mention the 754 church council and the eighth century Christological argument, but only to express his disagreement with the argument. John Calvin also mentioned the 754 church council but not in an effort to glean an argument against the worship of images. Calvin noted both the anti-image council in 754 and the pro-image council in 787 as part of his argument that church councils can disagree with one another and therefore cannot be infallible. In the course of his argument, Calvin implied his agreement with the 754 council’s decision to remove images from churches and strongly condemned the 787 council’s approval of worshipping images. Yet his main contention was that “… we cannot otherwise distinguish between councils that are contradictory and discordant, which have been many, unless we weigh them all … in the balance of all men and angels, that is, the Word of the Lord” (Institutes 21:1173 4.9.9). Calvin did not mention the eighth century Christological argument.
After the eighth century controversy, the Christological argument did not receive any significant attention to my knowledge until Ralph Erskine in the eighteenth century wrote his book Faith No Fancy. Ralph Erskine was apparently not even aware of the eighth century Christological argument when he began writing his book. Well into the writing, he revealed that he had learned about the 754 church council and the eighth century Christological argument through reading Peter Martyr:
Then [Peter Martyr in Loc. Com.] makes mention of the seventh synod, (which was not allowed by the Papists, and) which was held by Constantine and his son: wherein it was decreed, “That Christ was not to be painted, feigned or figures, no not as touching his human nature. And the reason is set down and assigned, because it is not possible to describe by art any thing else but his human nature. Wherefore they that make such things, seems to embrace the Nestorian error, which separated the human nature from the divine.” When above I supposed Mr. Robe’s doctrine of mental imagery touching Christ’s human nature to savour of Nestorianism, I had not glanced at this passage, so as to see my opinion fortified by the decree of such an ancient synod. (page 294)
At this point, a little historical background to Ralph Erskine’s development of the eighteenth Christological argument would be helpful. In Massachusetts, Jonathan Edwards wrote an account of the awakening that occurred in his church from 1734 to 1735. An unabridged version entitled  A Faithful Narrative was published in London in 1737, and reprints appeared in Edinburgh in 1737 and 1738. In 1741, Edwards preached a sermon on the distinguishing marks of a true spiritual awakening. This was published under the title The Distinguishing Marks of a Work of the Spirit of God. Editions were published in London, Edinburgh and Glasgow in 1742. Also in 1742, Edwards’s earlier work A Faithful Narrative helped inspire awakenings in two congregations of the Church of Scotland, William McColloch’s church at Cambuslang and James Robe’s church at Kilsyth. George Whitefield then preached in these churches in June 1742. Ralph Erskine and James Fisher were members of the Associate Presbytery, a group that had seceded from the Church of Scotland in 1733. According to James Robe, Fisher sent circular letters “Misrepresenting this blessed Work as a Delusion, and Work, of the Devil, very soon after its first Appearance at Cambuslang.” On July 15, 1742, the Associate Presbytery called for their churches to fast on August 4 in response to Whitefield’s ministry in Scotland and the alleged works of delusion. James Robe quickly wrote a book defending the Scottish awakenings, and Fisher quickly responded with a critical review. This was followed by a series of published letters between Robe and Fisher. After Robe’s fourth letter, Ralph Erskine wrote Faith No Fancy in 1745 as his definitive response to Robe.
In The Distinguishing Marks, Jonathan Edwards had made this comment about mental images:
Such is our nature that we can’t think of things invisible, without a degree of imagination. I dare appeal to any man, of the greatest powers of mind, whether or no he is able to fix his thoughts on God or Christ, or the things of another world, without imaginary ideas attending his meditations? (Edwards 2009, 236)
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