Christ’s death and resurrection are the central events in redemptive history. Because Jesus has risen and then ascended to the Father’s right hand, so too, we will rise at his return to earth. Christ’s resurrection is the basis for our future hope. When our Lord returns to earth, so too, will those “who sleep in him,” and on that day, we shall be raised imperishable.

The Question Put to Paul by the Thessalonians
In light of the broad background of the New Testament’s teaching regarding the second advent of our Lord, we consider Paul’s teaching regarding Christian hope in verses 13-14 of 1 Thessalonians 4. Paul is addressing the question brought to him from the Thessalonians by Timothy regarding the fate of those who die before Christ returns. Since Paul had been gone from Thessalonica for but a short period of time, many have wondered about how it is that this question would arise, since it is not likely that many people in the congregation would have died during the short time span between Paul’s departure and Timothy’s return trip to the city. Perhaps some were martyred due to persecution, but this is improbable. Although many proposals have been put forth as an explanation, Gene Green wisely cautions us,

The reconstruction of greatest merit argues that at the moment of confronting the reality of death, the Thessalonians did not allow their confession to inform their reaction to this human tragedy. Alternately, they may simply have not understood fully the reality of the resurrection from the dead, especially in light of the general Gentile consensus that such things simply do not happen.[1]

Those Who Are Asleep
In verse 13, Paul tells the Thessalonians, “we do not want you to uninformed, brothers.” In the prior section of this chapter, Paul speaks of the Thessalonians as knowing certain details (i.e., 1 Thessalonians 4:1-2; 6, 9) but since he speaks here of the need to inform them (of what follows) it is likely that this matter was not fully dealt with when he had been among them previously.[2] Paul had been forced to leave after three sabbaths due to rioting because of his message. What Paul says in his response to the question is important. Specifically, Paul does not want the Thessalonians to be ignorant about “those who are asleep,” i.e., those who have died before the Lord’s return. As Greco-Roman pagans and new converts to Christianity, the very idea of the resurrection of the dead was difficult for the Thessalonians to grasp. It was common in the first century to believe in the immortality of the soul–often seen as an underworld journey, such as crossing the river Styx–but the very idea of the dead coming back to life in redeemed/resurrected bodies was completely foreign.[3]
It was also common for the ancients to speak of death as “sleep”–especially the Greeks (i.e., Homer, Sophocles). The Old Testament repeatedly speaks of people who have fallen asleep with the fathers (Genesis 47:30; Deuteronomy 31:16; 1 Kings 2:10; Job 14:12 ff.; Psalm 13:3; Jeremiah 51:39 ff.).[4] Christians could use the metaphor of sleep when discussing death because of belief in the resurrection at the end of the age, while pagans, sadly, viewed this sort of sleep as having no end–i.e., no redemption of the body.[5]
We Die “In Christ”
Unlike the Greco-Roman pagans of Paul’s day, Christians need not “grieve like people who have no hope.” There is an intermediate state, described by Paul in 2 Corinthians 5:8– “we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” Those who die in Christ immediately enter into the Lord’s presence at death. Yet, this intermediate state is temporary. Christ’s bodily resurrection guarantees the bodily resurrection of his people–the first fruits of a great harvest at the end of the age (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:20). In Ephesians 2:12, Paul reminds Christians to “remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world.” All eschatological (future) hope is grounded in Christ’s resurrection–his victory over death and the grave. For Paul, to deny the resurrection of the believer is to deny the resurrection of Jesus (1 Corinthians 15:12-18).
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The reason Jesus acts the way he does, the reason Jesus is worthyof the worship he receives, is that Jesus’ origin is what it is: he is the eternal Son of the eternal Father, the heavenly Son of the heavenly Father, the only-begotten Son who is from above, not from below, whose filiation is not of this world.
The doctrine of the eternal generation of the Son is a central feature of orthodox Christian teaching. In this doctrine, the church confesses not simply that the second person of the Trinity is the one true and living God but how he is the one true and living God: as the Son eternally begotten by the Father who thereby shares the Father’s self-same being, attributes, works, and worship.
The church confesses the doctrine of eternal generation on the basis of Holy Scripture. But it is precisely at this point that many contemporary Christians–who may otherwise sympathize with the importance of sharing the church’s universal confession–nevertheless stumble. Is the doctrine of eternal generation really a biblical doctrine? Does it truly possess the only force it could possess to command the assent of the faithful, i.e., the authority of the Holy Spirit speaking in Scripture?
There are plenty of reasons for answering this question in the affirmative. Some reasons follow from the ways Scripture “names” the second person of the Trinity. Other reasons follow from the ways Scripture portrays the second person of the Trinity in his actions of creating, saving, and consummating all things. Still, many contemporary Christians continue to find these lines of argument unconvincing. Part of the problem doubtless stems from the hermeneutical culture in which they were trained, which tends toward atomism in exegesis or, when it does consider larger canonical patterns of meaning, tends to focus on “horizontal” redemptive-historical patterns to the exclusion of “vertical” analogical patterns of meaning.
There is a place for criticizing these hermeneutical cultures and for repairing them as need be (the latter is, as a matter of fact, my full-time job). But it is the responsibility of the church’s teachers also to address church doctrine to its members within the hermeneutical space that they actually inhabit, not simply in the ideal space that teachers believe they should inhabit. That’s part of faithful shepherding: leading God’s people from where they actually are to where they should be.
Now to the (pretentious) title of my post: What is “the greatest prooftext for the doctrine of eternal generation”? I hope it is clear, gentle reader, that I am not insinuating that there is one great prooftext for the doctrine that stands above all others. The doctrine of eternal generation is the teaching of the whole counsel of God read as a whole. What my title means to suggest is that there may be one particularly instructive, particularly helpful prooftext for leading those sympathetic to but still unsure about the doctrine to the place of more confident affirmation. That text, I suggest, is John 8.
In John 8, Jesus roots his actions of revealing God’s words and accomplishing God’s saving purpose, the very actions that reveal Jesus’ identity as the one true and living God (Jn 8:24, 28: “that I am”), in his origin, his being “from above,” his being from “the Father” (Jn 8:23, 27). Jesus acts the way he does because of where (or better: whom) he is from. Moreover, it is precisely in contrasting the analogy between Jesus’ origin and actions and his opponents’ origin and actions that Jesus confirms the deep biblical logic of the doctrine of eternal generation.
Jesus introduces the link between action and origin in John 5, basing his authority to work on the Sabbath (a prerogative unique to God) in his status as God’s natural-born Son. As one who shares his Father’s nature, he also shares his Father’s self-existence, performs his Father’s works, and is worthy of receiving his Father’s worship (see here and here). Jesus takes up this theme again in John 8 and elaborates on it by contrasting his origin and action with his opponents’ origin and action. “You are from below; I am from above. You are of this world; I am not of this world” (Jn 8:23). “I speak what I have seen with my Father, and you do what you have heard from your father” (Jn 8:38).
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Unfortunately—and incorrectly—some people assume that Calvin’s magnum opus must be the bedrock of the so-called “five points of Calvinism” and that Calvin must have used his book largely to defend his “Calvinism.” That’s not correct. The first sentence of the Institutes orients us to its two great themes: “Nearly all the wisdom we possess, that is to say, true and sound wisdom, consists of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves” (Institutes 1.1.1). Calvin’s desire—which he comes back to time and time again—is this reciprocal knowledge. Only in knowing God will we know ourselves; only in knowing who we really are will we be able to know God.

John Calvin (1509–1564) is one of those historical figures people have strong opinions about—sometimes even when those opinions are not based in reality. I have heard people malign Calvin because, they said, all he taught was double predestination and the rightfulness of executing heretics like Michael Servetus. As if that’s all Calvin believed! Others fall prey to believing Calvin was simply a disembodied brain sitting on a shelf, trying to figure out how he could get as many people into hell as possible. As if he had no friends or feelings! More often, though, people view Calvin as more philosophical than biblical and refuse to read him for this reason. As if Calvin’s thought is not punctuated with biblical and pastoral reflection!
If these are some of your concerns or fears about Calvin, fear no more. Read the Institutes of the Christian Religion, Calvin’s magnum opus, to understand him and his thought for yourself. You can do it. And you will profit from it by being encouraged by one of Christ’s gifts to his people. Most significantly, I think, you will grow to know God better through the writing ministry of John Calvin.
To Know and Love God
Why do we sometimes fear reading older books? C.S. Lewis pointed out that, due to humility, students regularly read commentaries on the classics rather than going back to the original sources themselves. He then remarked, “The student is half afraid to meet one of the great philosophers face to face. He feels himself inadequate and thinks he will not understand him. But if he only knew, the great man, just because of his greatness, is much more intelligible than his modern commentator” (Introduction to On the Incarnation).
I agree with Lewis in the case of Calvin. “The great man, just because of his greatness,” is intelligible.
Once a reader is oriented to Calvin’s intention in composing the Institutes, he can readily understand almost all of it without needing recourse to a commentary or guide. Why? Largely because Calvin was a Christian writing to Christians about the most important reality in the universe to them: God, and our need to know him and enjoy him. Calvin desired his readers to know and love God through reading his book, a desire that’s a timeless longing for God’s people — whether persecuted sixteenth-century French Protestants or twenty-first-century Christians trying to navigate the upheavals of our world.
Seven truths orient us to reading and understanding the Institutes. The last one is the most important.
1. Title
Institutes is a translation of the Latin Institutio, which means “instruction.” Calvin, then, was writing to instruct people in the Christian religion. His book is not as extensive as Thomas Aquinas’s Summa Theologiae (“summary of theology”) or Charles Hodge’s Systematic Theology, which were meant for advanced students. Calvin wrote in a simple fashion so that normal Christians could understand him. This comes through even in English translation. Try it and see for yourself!
2. Audience
In fact, Calvin had two audiences in mind when he composed the Institutes. He first wrote and published the book in Latin, the language of scholarship in his day. No matter their country of origin, European theological students and the educated class would be able to read him. But as Calvin revised and expanded the book, he usually translated the Latin editions into French so that his native countrymen would be able to read his work in their heart language. His audience was largely the persecuted church, since Protestants in France and the rest of Europe lived in precarious conditions. The Institutes therefore has an earnestness that differentiates it from much modern theological writing. I think you’ll find your heart warmed by reading it.
3. Attention to Detail
John Calvin was extraordinarily driven to get everything just right. He published the first edition in 1536. It was about one-fifth as long as the final edition. Soon followed the 1539 edition. Between 1543 and 1550, Calvin released other revised editions similar to each other. Finally, the 1559 edition was published just five years before his death.
By the time he died, Calvin had lectured, preached, or written commentaries on almost all the books of the Bible. In this final edition, then, he brought to bear all the biblical exposition he’d done as well as the pastoral wisdom he’d gained in his decades of shepherding the church in Geneva.
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