The Heart and Mind of Godly Ministry: Learning from the Letters of Calvin and Rutherford
Two humble men who remind us that the glory of God, delight in Christ, and the growth of God’s people is our great aim and end in the church. Their letters divulge their longing for the power of the gospel, piety of the people of God, prayerfulness of the saints, and tender presence in the family of God.
Since High School, when I became a believer, God has richly blessed my life with multiple mentors and heroes in the faith. Their friendship, support, challenge, and rebuke have seasoned my walk with Christ and greatly equipped my service in ministry, and I will forever be in their debt. However, in the past few months, the Lord has used two men in particular to minister to my heart and life. And these two fathers in the faith have been dead for hundreds of years.
What a gift the church has in the printed copies of the personal letters of John Calvin and Samuel Rutherford (Thank you Banner of Truth Trust!). Attending a Reformed seminary, we were naturally exposed to the great Reformer’s and Puritan’s prolific writings in exegesis, systematic and pastoral theology, as well as critical commentary. But its been just recently that I’ve come to treasure the letters and correspondence of godly and model pastors like Calvin and Rutherford, and I’d like to share two brief excerpts that provide a window looking out at the beautiful landscape of their pastoral wisdom and piety.
Philip R. Johnson notes in his contribution to the volume celebrating the 500th anniversary of Calvin’s birth, “Calvin’s most underrated body of work was his letters— long epistles, in many cases. Most of Calvin’s letters convey the great tenderness of his pastor’s heart—especially when he wrote to admonish or correct someone in error. The tone of the letters belies the modern caricature of Calvin as a stern, fire-breathing, doctrinaire authoritarian.” I couldn’t agree more! In June of 1551, Calvin wrote to a “French Gentleman”, perhaps a member of the family of Theodore Beza as the letter was produced upon the occasion of an illness which endangered Beza’s life. The letter reveals a touching tribute to his affection as a friend and partner in ministry. He writes:
“When the messenger presented himself with your letter to Beza, I was seized with fresh alarm, and, at the same time, weighed down with a load of grief. For I was informed, the day before, that he had been seized with the plague. I was therefore not only troubled about the danger he was in, but from my very great affection for him I felt almost overpowered, as if I was already lamenting his death…”
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One Hundred Years Ago, “Following the Science” Meant Supporting Eugenics
The eugenics movement, as Chesterton predicted, became a wretched story of the negation of democratic ideals to serve a utopian vision. “Hence the tyranny has taken but a single stride to reach the secret and sacred places of personal freedom,” he wrote, “where no sane man ever dreamed of seeing it.” Wittingly or not, the eugenic dream unleashed a cataract of deeply rooted fears and hatreds — sanctified this time by a secular priesthood, the scientific community.
In the 1920s, when he was still an agnostic, C. S. Lewis noted in his diary his latest reading: “Began G. K. Chesterton’s Eugenics and Other Evils.”
A controversial English Catholic writer, Chesterton published his book in 1922, when the popularity of eugenics was at flood tide. Respectable opinion on both sides of the Atlantic embraced the concept: a scientific approach to selective breeding to reduce, and eventually eliminate, the category of people considered mentally and morally deficient. From U.S. Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes to Planned Parenthood founder Margaret Sanger, eugenics policies — including involuntary sterilization — were hailed as a “progressive” and “compassionate” solution to mounting social problems.
A hundred years ago, Chesterton discerned something altogether different: “terrorism by tenth-rate professors.” For a time, he stood nearly alone in his prophetic assault on the eugenics movement and the pseudo-scientific theory by which it was defended.
“People talk about the impatience of the populace; but sound historians know that most tyrannies have been possible because men moved too late,” Chesterton warned. “I know that it numbers many disciples whose intentions are entirely innocent and humane; and who would be sincerely astonished at my describing it as I do. But that is only because evil always wins through the strength of its dupes.”
Chesterton declared his aim openly, without qualification or compromise: The ideology of eugenics must be destroyed if human freedom is to be preserved. The eugenic idea, he wrote, “is a thing no more to be bargained about than poisoning.” In the end, it would require the discoveries at the death camps at Auschwitz and Dachau for most of the world to finally reject the horrific logic of eugenics. Yet Chesterton was one of the first to see it coming: when the machinery of the state would invoke the authority of science to deprive individuals — both the “unfit” and the unborn — of their fundamental human rights.
It is hard to overstate the degree to which eugenics captured the imagination of the medical and scientific communities in the early 20th century. Anthropologist Francis Galton, who coined the term — from the Greek for “good birth” — argued that scientific techniques for breeding healthier animals should be applied to human beings. Those considered to be “degenerates,” “imbeciles,” or “feebleminded” would be targeted. Anticipating public opposition, Galton told scientific gatherings that eugenics “must be introduced into the national conscience like a new religion.” Premier scientific organizations, such as the American Museum of Natural History, and institutions such as Harvard and Princeton, preached the eugenics gospel: They held conferences, published papers, provided research funding, and advocated for sterilization laws.
To many thinkers in the West, the catastrophe of the First World War, in addition to the problems of poverty, crime, and social breakdown, suggested a sickness in the racial stock. Book titles help tell the story: Social Decay and Degeneration; The Need for Eugenic Reform; Racial Decay; Sterilization of the Unfit; and The Twilight of the White Races. The American Eugenics Society, founded in 1922 — the same year Chesterton published Eugenics and Other Evils — was supported by Nobel Prize–winning scientists whose stated objective was to sterilize a tenth of the U.S. population.
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Towards a Spiritual Classical Christian Education
Written by Dr. Bruce Lowe |
Wednesday, June 21, 2023
One serious concern is the danger in emphasizing “classical (Christian) education” on exactly these terms, i.e., putting the “Christian” in brackets, i.e., making it secondary….We must be careful not to romanticize things “classical,” without biblical thoughtfulness and scrutiny.The old saying that that religion and politics should never be brought up in polite society needs expanding. Don’t mention education either! In a recent article in The New Yorker (April 3rd, 2023), Emma Green showed just how much is at stake here, particularly with contemporary partisan politics in mind. She names names, stating in her subtitle that “Conservatives like Ron DeSantis see Hillsdale College as a model for education nationwide”.[1] Green carefully nuances her terms, giving voice to different groups. But in the end a term that she somewhat lands on when speaking of the whole controversy is “classical education.” As a quick aside, readers seeking an ‘on-ramp’ to this subject should read Stanley Fish’s New York Times piece of 2010, which begins with the amusing story of him wearing his high school ring until it wore out. He writes of how it “became black and misshapen,” only for Fish to replaced it with a new one. Why? “[B]ecause although I have degrees from two Ivy league schools and have taught at U.C. Berkeley, Johns Hopkins, Columbia and Duke, Classical High School (in Providence, RI) is the best and most demanding educational institution I have ever been associated with.”[2] Fish commends his rigorous classical high school education, which for him required “four years of Latin, three years of French, two years of German, physics, chemistry, biology, algebra, geometry, calculus, trigonometry, English, history, civics, in addition to extra-curricular activities, and clubs—French Club, Latin Club, German Club, Science Club, among many others.”
The phenomenon Green labels as “classical education,” therefore, is not easily type-cast. If one looks at Gerd Theissen’s wonderfully succinct analysis of European education in the 20th century, highlighting the rise of social studies and its influence, one gets a picture that this discussion is complicated and should be treated as such.[3]
The question I want to ask in this article, given that classical education, even classical Christian education has come under scrutiny, is this one: what exactly does it mean to educate someone (particularly a child) in a way that is appropriate, especially with the Jesus of Christian families in mind? What are the principles for different people at different ages? Should Christians, for example, still be using the Trivium as recommended by Dorothy Sayers in her now-famous article of 1947?[4] Should Christians follow Sayer’s lead (drawn from her own personal growth) that in early grades children’s minds are ripe for memorizing, meaning we start with grammar? Should this then be followed by logic, after which we should teach rhetoric?
This is a huge topic to tackle in a short article, and thus I make no claims to completeness. Nevertheless, I wish to attempt to contemplate all this in light of what the Bible has to say. One serious concern is the danger in emphasizing “classical (Christian) education” on exactly these terms, i.e., putting the “Christian” in brackets, i.e., making it secondary. What God wants (some would seem to say) is a classical Christian education, with the emphasis unknowingly falling heavy on the classical part rather than the Christian part. We must be aware that the first Christians were battling worldliness in their own day. And in some cases, this worldliness WAS the “classical” way of thinking—e.g. the striving for personal honor, and the thought that physical beauty was a sign of divine favor. We must be careful not to romanticize things “classical,” without biblical thoughtfulness and scrutiny.
In this article I will argue that Paul would likely not have been directly against certain educational models of his time, even a “classical education.” But I will argue that Paul always was aware of sin in the human heart and yet retained optimism too, a belief in what the Spirit could achieve in a Christian. So perhaps even while we are thinking about education in terms of grammar and logic and rhetoric, we should be conscious too of the X-factors, i.e., the power of sin (not to underestimate it) and the power of the Holy Spirit (not to underestimate this either). More than anything, therefore, I will suggest from this that Paul promoted what we might call a Classical Spiritual Christian Education.
Philemon will be our text of choice for this article, a choice that might at first seem strange. If readers know anything of Paul’s little letter Philemon, they will know that it has always attracted attention regarding the subject of slavery. Here is the story: a man called Onesimus had apparently run away from his master, Philemon. Onesimus was thereby a runaway slave. Somehow, he had come in contact with the apostle Paul and had become a Christian. Hooray! But this created a tension. Runaway slaves were subject to the most severe punishment under Roman law, meaning that if Onesimus went back to Philemon, horrible things could happen to him. But, given Romans 13, we know that Paul has a deep willingness to work within even unjust governmental frameworks. He would have been legally liable if he harbored an escaped slave, yet Philemon was a brother in Christ. How does he navigate this? For this reason, Paul sent Onesimus back with the letter we now have, a letter whose main point is to appeal to Philemon to take Onesimus back without retribution, even with hints that perhaps he should emancipate him.
The letter is therefore a powerful text for considering the issues of slavery. But the way Paul speaks to Philemon, even the way he instructs him—or not—is instructive for thinking about the general area of teaching and training, even the training of children. As we will see presently, Paul started by assuming that Philemon is mature in the Lord, and based on that he chooses simply to persuade him, not to command him. This is very relevant to our discussion, as we will soon see. But then, even though Paul assumed Philemon would act maturely in line with godliness, Paul also (just in case) instructed him as if he were not mature and might make the wrong decision.
This seems quite helpful, because as we think about different levels of maturity and how to approach them, both mature and immature people are suddenly in view. How do we approach maturity and immaturity, even when it may occur within a single person in a short space of time? This is very relevant in raising kids, particularly teens. What I hope to show is that Paul leads with an optimistic agenda, and only afterwards is he more pessimistic. But even in his willingness, this willingness to be optimistic first, Paul was still bold about his responsibilities, a theme also vital for parents to constantly have in mind.
The letter to Philemon, after a few opening niceties, moves to a thanksgiving where Paul is all about thanking God for Philemon. When was the last time you did this regarding someone else and let them know? We are often quite slow to praise, and sometimes we even see a kind of weird competition at work between people and God! Everyone (including myself), we often decide, is awful to the core, most if not all the time, always tainted by error, having nothing good to be proud of; and so, the only person in the universe we can say anything nice about is God! Paul would disagree. He is quite willing to encourage Philemon, by saying lots of nice things about his maturity:
I thank my God always when I remember you in my prayers, 5 because I hear of your love and of the faith that you have toward the Lord Jesus and for all the saints, 6 in order that your common faith with others may become even more energized by understanding from all the saints, i.e., every single person among you who is for Christ. 7 For I have derived much joy and comfort from your love, my brother, because the deep emotions of the saints have been revived through you.Philemon 4-7
Verse 6 is notoriously difficult. Translations have regularly rendered it differently. I will indulge to give my translation, one that I think best fits with a context of commending maturity. Basically, Paul starts by saying that you (Philemon) have been mature in your help to others: you are mature because you have given out faith and love to the Lord Jesus and to other Christians. Interesting…Maturity is about giving to the Lord. But maturity is also about connection with others, to love them (yes), but also to be willing to share faith with them. Now to verse 6. You have been mature and humble enough to learn from others too.
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Strengthened by the Supper (1): What are the Sacraments?
The Lord’s Supper is a sacrament. The Lord’s Supper is a divine gift meant to declare and seal to us, Christ’s church, His great promise of the gospel of a crucified and risen Christ. Receive the sacraments with gratitude, and rejoice in the gospel given you in and through them.
A slight correction from last time. I read Heidelberg 65, which is important to this series, but I referenced it as Heidelberg 66. I apologize for the confusion.
Heidelberg 65 asks, “where does . . . faith come from?” Great question. Believers want to have faith and a stronger and deeper faith. How do they get that? Heidelberg 65 answers, “From the Holy Spirit who works it in our hearts by the preaching of the gospel and strengthens it by the use of the sacraments.” Aren’t you glad for the gospel of a generous and powerful God? You don’t have to muster up the faith yourself, you simply receive grace from your God, and He builds your faith. You need preaching like you need regular meals if you’re going to have strength on your pilgrim journey to heaven. Additionally, the Holy Spirit strengthens your faith by the use of the sacraments. You need the Lord’s Supper like you need regular meals if you’re going to endure your pilgrim journey to heaven. So then, let’s ask the question: What are the sacraments?
When you hear the word “sacrament” what do you think of? Maybe the word sounds Roman Catholic to you, but it’s not a word reserved for Romanists. The word “sacrament” has been used in the church for a long time. The Protestant Reformers used the word.
According to Webster’s Dictionary 1828, the word “sacrament” comes from the Latin sacramentum meaning an oath, the root being sacer or sacred. Additionally, ancient writers used sacramentum to describe a mystery. But in the history of the church, the word “sacrament” was used to refer to visible signs and seals that communicated the gospel of Christ. Heidelberg 66 defines sacraments as follows:
The sacraments are holy, visible signs and seals. They were instituted by God so that by their use He might the more fully declare and seal to us the promise of the gospel. And this is the promise: that God graciously grants us forgiveness of sins and everlasting life because of the one sacrifice of Christ accomplished on the cross.
So, several things can be said about the sacraments. They are holy, visible, signs, and seals. It’s right to say the sacraments “were instituted by God.” Man didn’t invent the sacraments; God gave the sacraments to man. What does God intend to do through the sacraments? God intends to “more fully declare and seal to [His church] the promise of the gospel.” So the sacraments are declarations and authenticating seals of the gospel of Christ to Christ’s church. The sacraments represent God’s promise to us His church. What’s the promise? The sacraments signify and seal the gospel promise of God to us. Here’s the promise: “that God graciously grants us forgiveness of sins and everlasting life because of the one sacrifice of Christ accomplished on the cross.” It’s really, really important to understand that the sacraments are God’s gift to His church, a gift through which He communicates the gospel and its benefits to them. The sacraments are not gifts that the church gives to God. The sacraments are not a response to the gospel per se, they are the gospel being given by God to His church as they obediently receive them.
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