Posted by deangonzales on November 24, 2009
In Recovering the Reformed Confession: Our Theology, Piety, and Practice, R. Scott Clark argues that modern Reformed churches are in the midst of an identity crisis. Like ships that have lost their moorings in the night and becomes aimlessly adrift at sea, they are without course, without compass, and without captain. It is not Clark’s aim, however, to point out problems without offering solutions. Clark not only details what he sees as the modern Reformed malaise, but also lays out his vision of a Reformed recovery. What he champions is a robust, historical and exhaustive return to confessiononalism. Clark’s position is that the Reformed identity is defined by the historic Confession, and by the manner in which the church and her ministers subscribe to those documents.
The first chapter is introductory, and sets the stage for us by defining the terms of the book as Clark will be using them. In using the term “Reformed,” Clark intends to speak of the theology, piety and practice laid out in the six major confessions of the continental and British churches descendent from John Calvin. In this introduction he also begins to level his charges against modern Reformed folk. The essence of his concern is that the theology, piety and practice of the modern Reformed churches include much that would be alien and even antithetical to the theology, piety and practice of their Reformed forefathers.
The remaining chapters of the book are divided into two parts. Part one, which consists of chapters two and three, details the current crisis of Reformed identity. This section of the book is where Clark presents his evidence to support the accusations leveled in his introduction. This evidence is presented as two illegitimate quests. Like David leering at the bathing Bathsheba, it is argued that these two quests have caught the eye of the Reformed churches and have caused them to turn from the good old paths, running headlong toward folly and mischief.
The first element of the crisis is the Quest for Illegitimate Religious Certainty (QIRC). Clark writes, “QIRC is the pursuit to know God in ways he has not revealed himself and to achieve epistemic and moral certainty on questions where such certainty is neither possible nor desirable” (p. 39). In other words, having failed to maintain a robust, historic confessionalism, Reformed Christianity has been truncated. Reformed folk have sought to fill this vacuum with the QIRC, searching for some new sense of security and identity. Clark gives three examples of this QIRC: the desire to make a literal six day/twenty-four hour understanding of creation a test of Reformed orthodoxy, the desire to claim O.T. theocratic law and regulation as binding in exhaustive detail, and the desire to bring new innovations to our understanding of obedience and justification under the heading of covenant moralism. Clark dismisses each of these desires as either misguided and ill informed (creation debates), or contrary to the confession and dangerous (theonomy and covenant moralism). In each case, it is his view that preoccupation with these issues shows how untethered Reformed folk have become from their confession. Clark believes that the confession settles these matters for us, if we would but return to it as our standard and rule.
Clark titles the second half of the crisis, and his third chapter, the Quest for Illegitimate Religious Experience (QIRE). He now turns his critique to the spirit of revivalism as displayed in the Great Awakening and especially as personified by Jonathan Edwards and his modern celebrators. To Clark, revival in any form is incompatible with reformation. Revival seeks the immediate and extraordinary movement of God in the hearts of men, often divorced from the church and her ordinances, and as such is hopelessly infected with pietism. Reformation, conversely, makes due use of ordinary means as prescribed in Scripture and administered weekly in the church, and in these things finds satisfaction and rest.
To Clark, a high view of revival (and the direct, relational communion with God it entails) necessitates a low view of the church (especially of her confession, and of God’s appointed means of grace). This dichotomy runs throughout the book, and is evident in comments like the one found on page 330: “perhaps attendance to the second [worship] service is actually a better indicator of spiritual maturity than are the calluses on our knees and the wear on our Bibles.” Some of Clark’s views will be interacted with critically below, but a word must be said at this point. Clark’s dichotomy between reformation and revival (and thus between the means of grace and private piety) is indicative of the major flaw in his analysis. Why must attendance to the second worship service be set against private prayer and Bible reading? Why must a high view of the means of grace necessitate a low view of private piety? God’s Word, which has the final say in such matters, has a high view of both.
Having diagnosed the crisis, Clark spends the rest of his pages detailing what a healthy recovery should look like. The remaining five chapters form Part Two of the book, titled “The Recovery.” Chapters four and five are essentially a plea for honesty about what the confession says, what the confession means, and what the confession mandates for us in theology, piety, and practice. Chapter six caps this discussion by highlighting the benefits and joys of a robust and full submission to the Reformed confession. The last two chapters of the book offer a very detailed survey of the exegesis, history, and confessional tradition associated with the Lord’s Day and Christian worship. Clark’s vision for rejuvenated Reformed worship revolves around a strict adherence to the Regulative Principle of Worship, a central view of the means of grace, and the reinstitution of a second Lord’s Day worship service.
It is clear that R. Scott Clark is a man of considerable academic ability who has a deep passion for the health and faithfulness of the church. He brings thorough research and a keen mind to nearly all of the topics with which he interacts. There is much value in working through his arguments and considering his conclusions. This does not mean, however, that his conclusions should be agreed with or supported. In fact, he reaches many conclusions that are profoundly misguided and some even dangerous to the theology, piety, and practice of the church.
Before those concerns are addressed, the book’s positive contributions should be acknowledged. Clark effectively calls evangelicals searching for religion with greater substance to take up the banner of being Reformed. His invitation to resist Rome, Constantinople, and the Emergent Village in favor of Geneva is timely and stirring. Reformed folk must strive for the sort of visibility and credibility that will make this a viable option for disillusioned evangelicals.
Clark is correct, as well, when he argues for the inevitability and general benefits of being confessional. Under his relentless logic, the maxim “no creed but Scripture” is exposed as a fallacy. Furthermore, this book contains considerable amounts of very sound and helpful exegetical and historical research. Of special note is the logical and convincing exegesis of John 4:23-24, and the excellent survey of the Christian Sabbath from Biblical, confessional, and historical perspectives.
However, as previously noted, these positive elements are found in the midst of some troubling material. There are issues that Clark deals with which deserve a response beyond the scope of this review. Many of these issues, such as his extreme application of the Regulative Principle of Worship and his strict dichotomy between objective and subjective religious experiences are urgent in that they bear directly on church practice. In addition to the criticism of his views on the QIRE offered above, only one area of concern will be highlighted here for criticism.
Even as he criticizes the QIRC and the QIRE, there is a quest which Clark himself undertakes in Recovering the Reformed Confession. We can call this the Quest for Illegitimate Religious Traditionalism (QIRT). The QIRT is the desire to settle all questions of theology, piety and practice by total submission to the historic Reformed confession, as interpreted by the animus imponentis. This is an illegitimate quest and ought not be pursued for three reasons.
First, it is an illegitimate quest because it muddles the theological method. Confessions, like any work that systematizes the truths of Scripture, are always to be derived from sound exegesis. It is exegesis, with subordinate input from historical theology, which must always be the foundation of the church’s theology.
Unfortunately, this does not seem to be the operative method for R. Scott Clark. It seems that for Clark, the confession is authoritative. It is the confession, interpreted by history, which drives exegesis. The reader begins to get a flavor of this muddled method when Clark remarks, “Not every appeal to Scripture is Reformed or reforming. Any appeal to Scripture that fundamentally overturns what it is to be Reformed cannot itself be a Reformed appeal to Scripture” (p. 25). If this were the only such statement in the book, it might be forgiven as slightly misguided zeal for one’s heritage, but this is not an isolated sentiment.
A more direct example of this muddled method occurs when Clark sets out to build exegetical evidence for his strict interpretation of the Regulative Principle of Worship. Clark argues that the Regulative Principle requires instruments and uninspired songs to be abandoned; while at the same time he insists on a mandatory second worship service. On pages 337-338, he surveys texts from Genesis, Exodus, Ezra, 1 Chronicles, and the Psalms as they relate to these issues. His reading of these texts is clearly shaped and submitted to confessional and historical concerns. He is able in just a few sentences to dismiss any exegetical content that does not support his agenda as merely typological, while insisting that any exegetical material that does support his agenda has abiding validity. The following passage is typical: “Psalm 141:2 is attributed to King David, and he speaks of ‘lifting up’ his hands ‘as the evening sacrifice.’ Of course, these passages were given during the church’s typological period so they apply to us only figuratively. Christ is our sacrifice, our priest, and our temple. Nevertheless, they do give evidence that the ‘morning and evening’ pattern of creation has some continuing place in our re-creation” (pp. 337-338). In other words, any material from the Old Testament that does not support the agenda (clear use of instruments, composing new songs) is typological and any material that does support the agenda (morning and evening pattern of worship) establishes a compelling pattern. Clark’s exegesis is the servant of his systematic and historical theology, thus confusing the proper theological method.
Second, this QIRT is illegitimate because Clark crosses the line into a dangerous confessionalism. “Dangerous” is a strong word, but it is appropriate when the living Word of God is made to share its throne as our supreme authority with a man-made document. “Is not my word like a fire?” says the LORD, “and like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces?” Confessions are valuable, and they may even be precious to us. But they are not like fire. They are not a discerner of the heart. They are not God-breathed.
The opponents of the use of a confession of faith usually accuse its proponents of confessionalism, which is the tendency to give a confession of faith equal or higher authority than the Scriptures. This is generally a false charge, but in the case of R. Scott Clark, it seems sadly appropriate.
The reader begins to get uncomfortable early on, when Clark remarks that “…sola scriptura [does] not teach that the Bible means what one says it does, but that the Scriptures, being God’s Word, form the church, and the church in subjection to the Scriptures is able to interpret them well enough to decide controversies”(pp. 25-6). While Clark’s zeal for ecclesiastical authority may make some uncomfortable, this passage could be taken as nothing more than a proper condemnation of the widespread distortion of sola scriptura into solo scriptura. If Clark simply set out to critique the “Tradition 0” zeitgeist, and to build a better understanding of “Tradition I,” there would no reason for alarm. Although this healthy return to Tradition 1 is Clark’s stated goal, he seems to have overshot that mark. A statement such as the one made brazenly and with only weak qualification on page 178, that “the authority of the confession is…tantamount to that of Scripture, assuming that a given confession is biblical,” leaves no doubt as to whether R. Scott Clark has crossed a line that ought not to be crossed.
This quote is taken from the context of Clark’s interaction with the writings of R. B. Kuiper. Writing in 1926, Kuiper objected to the practice of the ecclesiastical courts in appealing to the confession as authoritative, without feeling the need to check the confession against Scripture. It was Kuiper’s concern that this practice might give the impression that the church had adopted a dangerous confessionalism, wherein the confession was nearly “tantamount” to Scripture. Clark’s reply, by way of the animus imponentis, is that the confession is indeed tantamount to Scripture in authority.
Clark can make this assertion with a straight face (one assumes) because he qualifies it by saying that the confession must, of course, be Biblical (quia subscription). Even ignoring the monstrous problem of getting any two Christians to agree that a given confession is utterly Biblical in the sort of exhaustive detail required to make such a view tenable, equating the authority of the confession with that of the Bible evidences a profound misunderstanding of why the Bible is authoritative. The Bible is not authoritative simply because it is true and accurate in the sort of strict forensic way that can be reproduced in a confession, but because it is the living Word of God Almighty. The Word’s authority is derived from its God breathed, self-attesting character. A man can and should faithfully confess the truths he learns from God’s Word, but he cannot replicate its authority. The authority of the confession is authoritative only in so far (quatenus subscription) as it states what can be clearly shown in the Scriptures. Thus, even if it is completely Biblical, the authority of the confession is never tantamount to that of God’s Word. The cleanest mirror in all the world is still just a reflection; it is never on equal footing with reality.
Third, the QIRT is illegitimate because it simply cannot be consistently maintained. Clark paints a romantic picture of quia subscription and heady conformity to the animus imponentis which simply does not match reality. Consistency cannot even be maintained within the pages of Recovering the Reformed Confession. On page 318 he addresses the diversity in how the Reformed churches have understood the Sabbath. If there is diversity on an issue as central to our theology, piety, and practice as the Sabbath, can we really speak of the Reformed Confession in the singular tense? Exactly which understanding of the Sabbath is to be recovered? Clark is aware of this inconsistency and seeks to alleviate it by appealing to the substantive agreement on the main points of the Sabbath in the Reformed confession. This is a fine tactic for one holding to quatenus subscription, but Clark has already overplayed his hand at this point.
Clark has painted himself into a corner by way of his own strident confessionalism. It is not consistent to state that “…the Scriptures, being God’s Word, form the church, and the church in subjection to the Scriptures is able to interpret them well enough to decide controversies” (p. 26), yet on page 270 suggest that the disagreements between the a capella Psalter crowd and the more mainstream Reformed worshipers be settled by a compromise. Again, this may be a fine and equatable way for a church to settle a dispute, but why does Clark get to break his own rules at this point?
These three concerns make up the Quest for Illegitimate Religious Traditionalism. Clark’s zeal in these matters is beyond question, and his earnest pursuit of what he believes would be a more healthy and faithful Church is admirable. However, his muddled theological approach, his dangerous confessionalism, and his inconsistency expose this quest as illegitimate. It should be repeated again that this quest is not isolated. Clark pushes too far in several directions, though none of them as directly inappropriate as in this QIRT. Even with these major concerns, this is a book which ought to be read by any who attach the adjective Reformed to their denominational identity. Iron sharpens iron, and R. Scott Clark has issued a challenge to seriously consider the foundations of our theology, piety and practice. May all God’s people be sharper for it, and may they faithfully confess the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ until He gathers them home.
Nicolas Alford, Student
Reformed Baptist Seminary
Posted by deangonzales on December 28, 2008
Young, Restless, Reformed is “a journalist’s journey with the new Calvinists.” In this recently published book (March 2008), Collin Hansen, an editor for Christianity Today describes the contemporary resurgence of Reformed theology, particularly among young evangelicals. The book consists largely of interviews with young people who have been drawn to Calvinism and the leaders whom God has used to foster the resurgence. In particular, Hansen devotes the bulk of his attention on the ministries of John Piper, Albert Mohler, C. J. Mahaney, and Mark Driscoll. He also devotes one entire chapter to the renewed interest in a dead pastor-theologian, Jonathan Edwards. Moreover, Hansen highlights important events such as The Passion Conference, Together for the Gospel, and New Attitude, as well as college campus ministries like Reformed University Fellowship, Campus Outreach, and University Christian Fellowship. My purpose is not to provide an extended review of the book. Several such reviews can be googled online. Instead, I’d like to reflect briefly on some of the responses to the book, especially from those within the Reformed camp.
Most responses to the book have been overwhelmingly positive. The back cover features accolades from the well-known blogger Tim Challies, author Jerry Bridges, NT scholar Donald Carson, and church historian Douglas Sweeney.[1] When I posted this blog, there were 13 reviews in Amazon.com, all of which give the book 4 to 5 stars. After a thorough review, British Reformed Baptist Erroll Hulse queries, “Criticisms?” and tersely responds, “No!”[2] The only weak spot Tim Challies finds is that the book’s “focus is more on today than on yesterday and tomorrow.” He wishes Hansen would have given a bit more time on “how this movement grew” and on “where it might be going.” Challies concedes, however, that the author’s narrow scope probably precluded such an analysis.[3]
Martin Downes provides a generally positive appraisal though he’s careful to alert the reader, “This isn’t yet your grandfather’s Calvinism.” In other words, the resurgence Hansen describes is not quite the full-blown Calvinism encapsulated in the Heidelberg Catechism or Westminster Confession of Faith. Indeed, Downes thinks the book focuses too much on Baptists and not enough on Presbyterians.[4] A similar criticism is actually noted by Hansen in his book. Michael Horton, professor of systematic theology at Westminster Seminary California, is only willing to offer a qualified “Hurrah!” The term “Reformed,” argues Horton, must be “defined by the whole confession [i.e., Westminster Confession of Faith], and that involves covenant theology and the whole kit and caboodle.” Of course, Horton’s version of covenant theology is distinctively Paedo-Baptist. Consequently, he believes the resurgence Hansen depicts tends to downplay the importance of baptism in its attempt to unify around the doctrines of grace.[5]
One of Horton’s colleagues, R. Scott Clark, offers a similar criticism in the epilogue of his recently published Recovering the Reformed Confession: Our Theology, Piety, and Practice (Presbyterian & Reformed, 2008). Because none of the evangelical leaders highlighted in Hansen’s book “is identified with a historic Reformed denomination or confession,” the nomenclature “Reformed” is, in Clark’s estimation, inappropriately applied to them. A commitment to Reformed soteriology is not enough, argues Clark. There must also be an accompanying affirmation of Reformed ecclesiology—classically defined, of course. So unless one is ready to embrace Paedo-Baptism, he is not Reformed. In fact, Clark suggests that if these “young, restless, and Reformed” leaders were transported back in time to the Synod of Dort or to the Westminster Assembly, they’d find a “chilly reception.”[6]
It shouldn’t surprise us if some Paedo-Baptists are less than enthusiastic about a resurgence that is largely (though not exclusively) taking place among those of a more Baptist ecclesiology. It is disappointing, however, when Reformed Baptists seem more critical of Hansen’s book than enthused. “It seems to me,” one Reformed Baptist pastor wrote to me, “that in Scripture youth is not something to boast in, restlessness is not a Christlike trait, and not any of the leaders cited in the book belong to historically Reformed churches.” He went on to suggest, “Someone needs to write another book called Mature, Settled and Confessionally Reformed!”[7] So if the Reformers and Puritans fail to give the leaders of the modern Calvinistic resurgence a “chilly reception,” some 1689ers are more than willing to oblige.
In this writer’s opinion, the more negative responses to Young, Restless, Reformed misunderstand the aim of the book, beg important questions, and define the term “Reformed” too narrowly. To begin with, nowhere in Hansen’s book does he argue (or represent the evangelical leaders he describes as arguing) that immaturity in itself is a virtue. He simply describes young people who are being drawn to and affirming the doctrines of grace. What is more, the restlessness described in Hansen’s book is in fact a positive trait. Young people are becoming restless with shallow preaching, shoddy theology, and showbiz worship. Like Augustine, their hearts are restless until they come to find rest in the sovereign, transcendent God of Calvinism. Is that something to complain about?! And as far as I can tell, all the major leaders portrayed in Hansen’s book belong to churches with confessional statements.[8] As a matter of fact, Albert Mohler used a Reformed confession (The Abstract of Principles) to purge Southern Baptist Theological Seminary of liberals.
Would our Puritan Baptist forefathers reject the evangelical leaders depicted in Hansen’s book? Personally, I don’t think that’s a fair question. Can we be sure that the Puritans would have given these evangelicals a cold shoulder without a fair hearing? Moreover, what if some of the Reformers and Puritans traveled forward in time? Can we be certain that Martin Luther, John Calvin, John Owen, and Benjamin Keach would remain static in all of their doctrinal and practical perspectives despite the many good post-seventeenth century exegetical and theological developments?
This raises the question, “Who gets to define the term ‘Reformed’?” I think the answer to that question is a tad more complex than some “truly Reformed” people make it out to be. Some of Richard Baxter’s views were out of step with the Westminster Confession, yet he’s generally treated as Reformed and Puritan with some qualifications. Our Baptist forefathers expressed a great deal of concord with their Paedo-Baptist brothers. The primary area of disagreement was the doctrine of the church and the sacrament of baptism. Hence, those of us who adhere to the 1689 London Baptist Confession call ourselves Reformed Baptists. (Note the qualification!) Can’t we allow the same for the leaders of the Reformed resurgence today? They may not adhere to all the distinctives we hold dear, but they’ve got the gospel right (and many other things too)! Moreover, God is using them to reach young people that some of us are failing to reach. Therefore, let’s rejoice that Christ is being preached and souls are being drawn to a Big God. Instead of a stooge-like “Bah humbug,” let’s offer up a “Hip, hip, hurrah” that John Calvin, Jonathan Edwards, and Charles Spurgeon are becoming the “homeboys” of a younger generation.[9]
[1] These back cover blurbs can be found on the publishers website here.
[2] Hulse does suggest that Hansen seek another interview with John MacArthur (which Hansen was unable to secure before publishing the book), as well as interviews with R. C. Sproul and Tim Keller. Reformation Today 226 (2008), 35-39. Hulse’s review is also available on the Banner of Truth website here.
[3] For the review on Challies.com, click here.
[4] For the review on Reformation21, click here. On the same website, Carl Trueman provides a helpful review of the book and its relevance today entitled, “A Little Bit of Comfort for Machen’s Worrier Children.”
[5] Hansen, 109-112.
[6] Clark, 343-44.
[7] The citations are taken from correspondence between myself and another Reformed Baptist pastor.
[8] The reader is encouraged to visit the websites associated with the ministries of John Piper, Albert Mohler, C. J. Mahaney, and Mark Driscoll where he’ll find confessional statements.
[9] Donald Carson’s words are fitting: ”A number of strategic ministries have been quietly upholding the doctrines of grace, planting churches, seeing people converted, teaching the whole counsel of God. It is time for quiet gratitude to God and earnest intercessory prayer that what has begun well will flourish beyond all human expectation.”
Posted by deangonzales on November 6, 2008
Recently, Dr. James Renihan published on his blog an entry entitled, “Are You Passionate?” (June 3, 2008), which the reader may access here. He begins the post with the remark, “Evangelical preachers and writers have become passionate about being passionate.” “We are urged,” says Renihan, “to have a passion for God, to be passionate about winning souls, to be passionate in worship etc. ad nauseum.” Though he acknowledges that those who use this terminology are employing it in a positive sense, he alerts the reader to a potential problem. “The problem is,” he asserts, “that we Christians inherit an older sense of the term that is utterly contradictory to anything good.”
To illustrate his concern, Dr. Renihan notes that the term “passion(s)” when used in the NT “always has a sinful connotation.” Drawing from the New American Standard and New King James translations, he cites four texts that use the term “passion(s)” negatively to support his observation: Romans 1:26; 1 Corinthians 7:9; Galatians 5:24; Colossians 3:5. With these passages in view, Dr. Renihan suggests that the modern employment of terms like “passion” or “passionate” is at best confusing. But the problem is potentially worse for the self-consciously Reformed believer because, as he points out, “our Confession tells us that God is ‘without body, parts, or passions.’” According to him, “We [modern Christians] speak somewhat simplistically of emotions,” but “our tradition spoke more specifically, not about emotions, but about affections and passions.” He then expands on what he believes to be a crucial theological distinction:
Affections are righteous attributes which have their source within God; passions are unrighteous attributes which have their source outside of God. Our Triune Lord has true affections, but he has no passions. Preachers who understand and subscribe to our Confession should comprehend this point and think through its implications for their communication with their people.
So the modern usage of terms like “passion(s)” or “passionate” is problematic not only in light of the NT’s usage of that terminology but also in view of our Reformed creed’s disavowal of “passions” as a divine attribute. “Isn’t it confusing,” reasons Dr. Renihan, “to urge people to strive to be passionate about imitating God when we rightly confess that God has no passions?” Of course, he concedes, “Language changes over time.” Nevertheless, he argues, “Confessional Christians who are serious about the Scriptures” should “refrain from using this term in a positive sense, finding another to replace it.” He concludes his article with an exhortation to the reader: “Are you passionate? Maybe you need to repent!”
How should the reader respond to Dr. Renihan’s exhortation? Should those of us who have used terms like “passion” and “passionate” in a positive sense repent? Do the Scriptures and our Confession constrain us to find other vocabulary to replace these terms? Though I consider Dr. Renihan my friend and share his concern for theological precision and choosing the right vocabulary when we engage in religious conversation or the proclamation of divine truth, I cannot go along with his basic argument. In other words, I would argue that the use of terms like “passion(s)” and “passionate” are entirely appropriate on linguistic grounds. So I feel compelled to offer the readers a balancing perspective.
Points of Agreement
Before I offer my “counterpoint,” however, let me begin by affirming some areas where I agree with certain points of Dr. Renihan’s post. First, I agree that many preachers today, myself included, use the term “passion” or “passionate” in a positive sense, usually to underscore the need to be fervent, devoted, and enthusiastic about Christ, the gospel, missions, etc. Second, I agree with Renihan when he notes, “Today, ‘passion’ is generally thought to be good.” Indeed, a look at any modern dictionary reveals that the term “passion” does not usually carry the freight of negative connotations unless there are some accompanying negative modifiers. For example, the 2006 Unabridged Random House Dictionary offers the following 12 definitions:
1. any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate
2. strong amorous feeling or desire; love; ardor
3. strong sexual desire; lust
4. an instance or experience of strong love or sexual desire
5. a person toward whom one feels strong love or sexual desire
6. a strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything: a passion for music
7. the object of such a fondness or desire: Accuracy became a passion with him
8. an outburst of strong emotion or feeling: He suddenly broke into a passion of bitter words
9. violent anger
10. the state of being acted upon or affected by something external, esp. something alien to one’s nature or one’s customary behavior (contrasted with action)
11. (often initial capital letter) Theology
a. the sufferings of Christ on the cross or His sufferings subsequent to the Last Supper
b. the narrative of Christ’s sufferings as recorded in the Gospels
12. Archaic. the sufferings of a martyr
Of these definitions, #3, #8, and #9 seem to carry negative connotations though I don’t believe all “sudden outbursts of strong emotion or feeling” are necessarily sinful. But when preachers or theologians today speak of having a “passion for God” or being “passionate about winning souls” or “worshiping God passionately,” they obviously are using the terminology in keeping with uses #1, 2, 6, and/or 7. And thanks to Mel Gibson’s movie “The Passion” and John Piper’s book The Passion of Christ, sense #11 has been somewhat revived and used for the sufferings of Christ. Third, I agree with Dr. Renihan that the term “passions” when predicated of God in our Confession carries a negative connotation. If, as he claims, the Puritan framers of our Confession understood “passions” as “unrighteous attributes which have their source outside of God,” then, by definition, it is inappropriate for us to apply the term in this sense to God. Finally, I agree with him that language changes over time.
Some Linguistic Caveats
This leads me to express some caveats regarding the general thrust of his post. To begin with, Dr. Renihan’s argument is invalidated if the primary meaning of “passion” has evolved and is more commonly used within Christian circles in positive ways today. The English term “nice” used to mean “ignorant” or “stupid,” but I would never censure a 21st century person for using that term to describe someone or something that was “pleasing, agreeable, or delightful.” Context, not etymology or historical usage, is the decisive factor.
Take, for instance, the Greek term epithumia, which is normally translated “lust” and used negatively in the Bible. The basic meaning of the term is “strong desire,” but it is predominantly used to describe sinful human desires. Nevertheless, this fact did not prevent Jesus or the apostles from using the term positively. Accordingly, Jesus says to his disciples, “I have earnestly desired [epithumia epethumesa; literally, ‘with lust I have lusted’] to eat this Passover with you before I suffer” (Luke 22:15 NAS). In Philippians 1:23, Paul writes, “I am hard-pressed from both directions, having the desire [epithumion] to depart and be with Christ, for that is very much better.” At the risk of an ad nauseam repetition, I’ll add one more example: “but we, brethren, having been bereft of you for a short while–in person, not in spirit–were all the more eager with great desire [polle epithumia] to see your face” (1 Thessalonians 2:17, NAS). Obviously, these examples endorse the use of a word in a positive sense that might otherwise have a predominantly negative idea. Once again, context decides. Conversely, as many preachers often overlook, the common Greek terminology for “love” (agape/agapao) can be used to predicate sinful lust (2 Sam. 13:1, 4, 15). So context, context, context is what really matters!
Is the older sense of “passion(s)” always bad?
But what about the term “passion(s)”? As it turns out, there is reason to question the thesis that the older sense of the term “passion(s)” was “utterly contradictory to anything good.” According to The Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the term “passion” was used as early as the 13th century A. D. to refer to “strong emotion, love” (see usage #8). At the beginning of the 16th century, it could denote, “enthusiasm or zeal.” Usage #8 in the OED describes the term “passion” as “strong affection, love.” These older senses of the term, like the modern usages, are perfectly consistent with good. So what’s the beef?!
It may be true that 17th century preachers and theologians preferred to use the term “affection” over “passion” when referring to divine emotivity. That’s fine and well. But we no longer live in the 17th century. Therefore, I don’t think it right to bind the conscience of preachers or Christians to use theological terms whose meaning was not only capable of various senses in the 17th century but has changed over time. True, we should be aware of what the Puritans meant when they described God as “without passions.” But that doesn’t require us to parrot their terminology especially when it makes little sense to 21st century believers or non-believers.
On the other hand, I’m not sure if I agree with Dr. Renihan’s construal of the older theological usage of “affections” in contrast with “passions.” He asserts, “Affections are righteous attributes which have their source within God; passions are unrighteous attributes which have their source outside of God.” It may be that some Reformed and Puritan theologians preferred the term “affections” over “passions” in describing divine emotivity positively. But this is by no means uniform. For example, John Owen, who was not merely a Puritan but a precise theologian, does not appear to make the same clear distinction between “passions” and “affections” that Dr. Renihan suggests was characteristic of Puritan confessional theology. In his polemic against the Socinians, Dr. Owen treats “passions” and “affections” as synonymous and denies that God has “affections,” which Renihan argues are “righteous attributes” (!). Of course, Dr. Renihan might reply that Owen was using “affections” in a negative sense, whereas other Puritan theologians distinguished “affections” from “passions,” using the former positively and the latter negatively. That may be true. But it only serves to prove my point—the terms “affection,” “affectionate,” “passion,” or “passionate,” have been used in the 17th century and may be used today both positively and negatively depending on the context.
Indeed, not only does Owen use the term “affection(s)” negatively when speaking of God, but he also uses the term “passionate” positively when speaking of human sanctification. In his treatise, “On the Mortification of Sin,” we read the following:
Being thus affected with thy sin, in the next place get a constant longing, breathing after deliverance from the power of it…. Longing, breathing, and panting after deliverance is a grace in itself, that hath a mighty power to conform the soul into the likeness of the thing longed after. Hence the apostle, describing the repentance and godly sorrow of the Corinthians, reckons this as one eminent grace that was then set on work, “Vehement desire,” 2 Cor. vii. 11. And in this case of indwelling sin and the power of it, what frame doth he express himself to be in? Rom. vii. 24. His heart breaks out with longings into a most passionate expression of desire of deliverance. Now, if this be the frame of saints upon the general consideration of indwelling sin, how is it to be heightened and increased when thereunto is added the perplexing rage and power of any particular lust and corruption! Assure thyself, unless thou longest for deliverance thou shalt not have it [emphasis added].”
One can glean similar examples from esteemed writers in the post-Puritan era. Describing the effects of the revival in his “Some Thoughts Concerning the Present Revival in New England,” Jonathan Edwards asserts, “There was a most vehement and passionate desire of the honour and glory of God’s name; a sensible, clear, and constant preference of it, not only to the person’s own temporal interest, but to his spiritual comfort in this world [emphasis added].” One should also note David Brainerd’s positive use of the “passion/passionate” terminology:
To a special friend.
The Forks of Delaware, July 31, 1744.
Certainly the greatest, the noblest pleasure of intelligent creatures must result from their acquaintance with the blessed God, and with their own rational and immortal souls. And oh how divinely sweet and entertaining is it to look into our own souls, when we can find all our powers and passions united and engaged in pursuit after God, our whole souls longing and passionately breathing after a conformity to him, and the full enjoyment of him! (emphasis added)
And an entry from his Diary of 1744,
Monday, Aug. 22. Spent most of the day in study; and found my bodily strength in a measure restored. Had some intense and passionate breathings of soul after holiness, and very clear manifestations of my utter inability to procure, or work it in myself; it is wholly owing to the power of God. O, with what tenderness the love and desire of holiness fills the soul! (emphasis added).
Interestingly, Robert Murray McCheyne loved to read the Life of David Brainerd and longed to imitate his piety. Not surprisingly, a tribute paid to McCheyne just after his death described him in Brainerd-like language: “A striking characteristic of his piety was absorbing love to the Lord Jesus. This was his ruling passion [emphasis added].”
Finally, let me provide one modern example. As Dr. Renihan notes, the terminology “passion(s)” and “passionate” has become quite popular, so I could multiply examples. But I thought it might be helpful if I just cited one of Renihan’s colleages, R. Scott Clark, Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at Westminster Theology in California. In a post entitled,”Why (Some) Reformed People Are Such Jerks,” Dr. Clark describes the fervent zeal of the Christian who converts to the Reformed faith:
This same thing often happens to folk when they first adopt the Reformed doctrine of predestination or discover the Reformation doctrine of Christian liberty. They over react to their Arminian or fundamentalist past or they’re so intoxicated with what they’ve learned that they believe that everyone one else must come to share their new found passions and freedom as quickly and intensely as they [emphasis added].
In light of these examples, isn’t it stretching the data to say, “We Christians inherit an older sense of the term [“passion”] that is utterly contradictory to anything good.” Moreover, in light of Owen’s negative use of “affections” with reference to God, isn’t it somewhat artificial to restrict the semantic range of “affections” to “righteous attributes which have their source within God.” Even the OED doesn’t restrict the word so.
Once again, we return to the determinative factor of context. Clearly, modern preachers like John Piper (and myself) that use terms like “passion” and circumscribe its semantic range by placing it in syntactical relation with prepositional phrases like “for God” or “in worshiping God” or “for lost souls” are well within biblical and lexical grounds of propriety and should not be censured or called to repentance. On the other hand, I would argue that such expressions as “God is impassible” are at best ambiguous today and at worst misleading. Certainly, we should attempt to understand what the Puritans meant by such terminology. But to insist that we must retain such terminology in order to convey an accurate picture of God’s nature is linguistically naïve and in contradiction to the Bible’s and Confession’s own mandate to strive to make God’s word and biblical theology intelligible to the people of God (Deuteronomy 30:11-14; 1 Cor. 14:3, 5, 9, 15-17, 26-28; LBCF 1.8).
What about its usage in Bible translations?
Of course, Dr. Renihan does not argue merely from historical usage. He appeals to the way modern conservative translations of the Bible, like the New American Standard Version and New King James Version, use the term. First, he cites Romans 1:26 where Paul tells us that “God gave [sinful and idolatrous people] up to vile passions” (NAS). The Greek term translated “passions” is pathos, and, like epithumia, its basic meaning is “strong desire.” The reader should not miss the fact that Paul places the noun translated “passions” in genitive construct with another noun meaning “dishonorable or vile,” indicating the kind of strong desire he has in view: pathe atimias; i.e., “passions of dishonor.” So it is not passions per se but dishonorable passions that Paul censures. Next Renihan cites 1 Corinthians 7:9, which reads in full, “But if they do not have self-control, let them marry; for it is better to marry than to burn with passion.” Interestingly, the final phrase “with passion” does not occur in the KJV or the original NAS. It is added in the Updated NAS and placed in italics since there is no corresponding Greek terminology behind it. But here the dynamic equivalent is warranted since the context makes clear that Paul has in view inappropriate sexual passions (see New Living Translation [NLT], New English Translation [NET]). In Galatians 5:24, Paul informs believers, “Those who are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires” (NAS). Here, Paul uses the term pathos (“passions”) in parallel with epithumia (“lusts”) and, most importantly, describes them as expressions of “the flesh” or sarx, which in Pauline usage definitely carries negative ethical connotations. So once again, it is not the mere words pathos and epithumia that constrain a negative meaning but their attachment to sarx or “the flesh” that circumscribes their semantic domain. By the way, I can understand why Dr. Renihan chose to cite the rendering of the NAS rather than that of the KJV for this verse. The latter reads, “And they that are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts [emphasis added].” So for the 17th century KJV translators even the term “affection” could carry negative connotations. That doesn’t seem to sit well with the hard fast theological dichotomy Dr. Renihan has drawn above! Finally, he quotes Colossians 3:5: “Therefore put to death your members which are on the earth: fornication, uncleanness, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry.” Here it appears that he’s citing the New King James Version. Once again, this serves his purpose well since the original KJV uses the term “affection.” Of course, the 17th century Christian knew that Paul had a negative kind of affection in view. So the translators of the KJV wisely add the qualifier “inordinate” even though the Greek simply reads pathos. In doing so, these 17th century translators teach us an important lesson: an individual lexeme may have a semantic range that includes both positive or negative elements and context must decide the particular sense in view. And since the list of other terms accompanying pathos in this context are referring to sinful actions or impulses, then I agree with the decision of the KJV translators to add “inordinate” as well as the that of the NET translators, who translate pathos here as “shameful passion.”
One should also note that modern versions like the NET (referenced above) sometimes employ the term “passion” in a positive sense. The NET employs the term “passion” in parallel with “love” in the Song of Solomon 8:6, which reads,
Set me like a cylinder seal over your heart,
Like a signet on your arm.
For love (‘ahabah/agape) is as strong as death,
Passion (qin’ah/zelos) is as unrelenting as Sheol.
Its flames burst forth,
It is a blazing flame (emphasis added).
In this context, term “passion” has an obviously positive meaning, denoting the fervent and exclusive affection of a bride for her bridegroom. I don’t think those expositors are off base who see in this expression of ardent human affection a picture of the love Christ has for his church-bride (Eph. 5:28-32). So passionate worship refers to zealously affectionate or affectionately zealous worship. And this is precisely the kind of devotion and service the Scriptures prescribe: “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might” (Deuteronomy 6:5, ESV)!
As it turns out, neither the older nor the modern usage of “passion(s)” or “passionate” support Renihan’s thesis. Context rules, not Shakespeare, the 1611 KJV, or the 1689! So I respectfully demur when he writes, “It might be better for us to refrain from using this term in a positive sense, finding another to replace it. This would avoid the difficulty of telling our people to be passionate even when the Scriptures tell us to mortify our passion.” Certainly, we should make every effort to “avoid confusion or confusing terms.” But it better serves our people to teach them sound rather than artificial linguistic principles. Most folks are smart enough to detect the difference in significance between the statements, “I love God” and “I love ice-cream.” Can’t we accord them enough intelligence to differentiate between being “passionate” for God and being “passionate” for illicit sex? Moreover, I fear that Dr. Renihan’s post will unfortunately bias the linguistically naïve to distrust otherwise sound preaching and teaching that speaks of things like, say, God’s Passion for His Own Glory. Is this a kind of backhanded polemic against John Piper’s teaching? If so, this kind of oversimplified polemic needs to stop. It is those who are not “passionate for God” who need to repent, not necessarily those who don’t conform their language to the archaic usages of the 17th century. Indeed, even some the 17th century Puritans weren’t so linguistically restrictive as Dr. Renihan. Richard Baxter sounds a lot like John Piper when he writes, “Passions are not sinful in themselves; for God hath given them to us for his service…. Turn all your passions into the right channel, and make them all Holy, using them for God upon the greatest things.”
Perhaps Dr. Renihan’s post was actually aiming at shallow emotionalism, weak theology, or anti-confessionalism. If that’s the beast he’s trying to shoot, then I’m with him. But I hate to see a good cause (i.e., preaching against spurious emotionalism, weak theology, or anti-confessionalism) injured by a poor argument. So I felt compelled to file a caveat. Are you passionate for that which is contrary to God’s revealed will? Then you do need to repent. Are you passionate for God, his worship, and the advance of his gospel? If so, please don’t repent! Instead, pray for more passion.
Bob Gonzales, Dean
Reformed Baptist Seminary
