confessing the reformed faith: our identity in unity and
diversity
by
Richard A. Muller
Richard Muller is the P. J.
Zondervan Professor of Historical Theology at Calvin
Theological Seminary, Grand Rapids, Michigan. This
address was given by Professor Muller at a meeting of
the North American Presbyterian and Reformed Council on
November 9, 1993 and appeared originally in the March
and April numbers (1994) of New Horizons, the
publication of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. The
essay is republished here with the permission of the
publishers.
I have selected as my topic this
evening, "Confessing the Reformed Faith: Our Identity in
Unity and Diversity." The central issue that I will
address is the issue of Reformed identity-specifically
as indicated by the body of confessional documents that
both unites us in faith and distinguishes us into
branches and denominations. I would also argue that
retention and maintenance of the integrity and stability
of the Reformed faith in its confessions is one of the
two greatest issues confronting our churches today. The
other, I would venture, is the parallel and profoundly
related issue of the retention and maintenance of our
tradition of liturgy and hymnody in which the doctrinal
stance of the confessions is put, as it were, into
action and application in the corporate life of
believers. In fact, the two issues are inseparable. I
propose to address these issues with a view to: (1) our
confessional diversity; (2) the nature of our unity in
diversity; (3) pressures on confessional integrity in
our times; and (4) ways of reaffirming and strengthening
confessional integrity today.1. Confessional
Diversity
Virtually all of us here, tonight, represent, in one
way or another, a branch of the Reformed faith. More
than that, we represent, for the most part, two major
branches of the Reformed faith-one identified by its
adherence to the Westminster Standards (the Westminster
Confession of Faith, the Westminster Shorter Catechism,
and the Westminster Larger Catechism), the other by its
acceptance of the Three Forms of Unity of the Dutch
Reformed churches (the Belgic Confession, the Heidelberg
Catechism, and the Canons of Dort). In both confessional
families, the teaching of the confessions and catechisms
has been echoed in forms of worship and in traditions of
hymnody reaching back into the Reformation of the
sixteenth century and reflecting the life of our
churches throughout the intervening years.
When in recent years, however, I have visited
churches, whether of the "Reformed" or of the
"Presbyterian" confessional type, I have been struck by
the increasing variety of forms of worship, by the loss
of traditional hymnody, and by the decreasing interest
on the part of these churches in their confessional
traditions. In the context of this erosion of identity,
some way of refocusing our church life in the light of
our confessional heritage appears to be in order.
When I was considerably younger and, more
importantly, a bit less wise (some would say less
cynical) about the problems of church life,
administration, and direction, I was very enthusiastic
about the movement from monoconfessional to
multiconfessional standards in what we were accustomed
to calling the "Northern" and "Southern" Presbyterian
churches. It seemed to me at the time that the
augmentation of the Westminster Standards with such
revered confessional writings as the Second Helvetic
Confession, the Belgic Confession, the Heidelberg
Catechism, the Scots Confession, and the Geneva
Catechism could only enrich our churchly perceptions and
lead to confessional renewal-that this was a primary way
of refocusing our attention on the confessions.
I well remember a wise, elderly deacon of the country
church that I served saying to me, "Rick, we've, got
enough trouble just learnin' the Westminster Standards."
At the time, I argued the case of multiconfessional
enrichment to him-today, I would stand in agreement with
his worry. The adoption of multiconfessional standards
has done little to enrich the life of Presbyterians in
the United States. In fact, it has done little other
than contribute to the dilution of Reformed
confessionalism, whether through the adoption of a
looser form of subscription, on the ground of diversity
among the confessions now present in the Book of
Confessions, or, as my deacon feared, through an
increased ignorance about all of the confessions. A
greater number of unread, unused, undeclared confessions
solves no problems.
To make the point succinctly, adopting one another's
confessions, with the result that each Reformed group
professes its faith through the use of more confessions,
neither brings about a renewal of interest in the
confessions nor a richer or fuller sense of the meaning
of the confessions-at least not necessarily. Nor does it
bring about a genuine unity in the faith: churches that
hold to the same confessions do not necessarily hold
them in the same way or with i the same level of
interest and commitment.
In addition, from the very beginnings of our history,
the Reformed faith has been expressed in and through the
diversity of regional and national confessions-the
Tetrapolitan Confession, the Gallican Confession, the
Belgic Confession, the First Confession of Base[, the
First Helvetic Confession, the Second Helvetic
Confession, the Heidelberg Catechism, the Scots
Confession, the Thirty-nine Articles, and others. All
of' these confessions were understood in their time as
Reformed. The various confessing groups recognized each
other as belonging to the same family of faith, without
feeling the need to subscribe to each other's
confessions or to prove at length that the teaching of
any one confession was identical with that of all the
others. And, more often than not, these distinct
confessions were accompanied by, and reflected in,
distinctive regional and national orders of worship.
The closest that the Reformed churches have ever come
to a single book of confessions, shared by all was in
1580, when the Genevan theologians produced the Harmony
of the Reformed Confessions, a document based on the
Second Helvetic Confession and including quotations from
all of the major Reformed confessions of the age. The
document was admired and praised, but never acknowledged
as the normative confession of any of the branches of
the Reformed church. Similarly, the Canons of Dort were
pressed for a time as a standard beyond the Netherlands,
and they did gain some authority during the seventeenth
century in Switzerland, but they have never become a
universal standard. The regional and national
confessions together with their distinct orders of
worship have, in fact, prevailed down to the present
day.
2. Unity in Diversity
Granting this diversity, we might well ask what
unites us. From the perspective of orthodox,
confessional Lutheranism, any claim we might make to a
unity of the faith is immediately called into question
by the diversity of our confessional standards. Lutheran
confessional theologians have pointed to the diversity
of our confessions and spoken of the internal
contradictions of Calvinism in contrast to the
theological harmony of Lutheranism, indeed, the unity of
churchly confession, as expressed in the Book of
Concord. And a contemporary historian of the sixteenth
century has argued, on the basis of differing emphases
in the doctrine of the covenant of grace in Calvin and
Bullinger, that there are in fact two rather divergent
Reformed traditions.1
The Lutheran criticism can, of course, be relatively
easily countered. Reformed theologians of the late
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were able to note
that the Lutherans' monoconfessional standard, the Book
of Concord, was not really as indicative of a
unified confession as it claimed to be. It not only had
arisen out of terrible controversy, and attempted (with
relative success, we might add) to find a middle course
between doctrinal extremes, but also w as not entirely
unified in its own documents.
Thus, after the Lutheran concord, several great
questions remained unanswered for Lutherans and, indeed,
remain unanswered to this day: Is a "true Lutheranism,"
distinct from the presumed problems caused for
Lutheranism by the teaching of Philip Melanchthon, an
attainable doctrinal position? Or does the role of
Melanchthon in producing the confessional standards (he
was the author of the Augsburg Confession and the
Apology of the Augsburg Confession) cause a rift within
the confessional documents themselves, given Luther's
authorship of the Larger and Smaller Catechisms? Does
the late sixteenth-century scholastic style of the
Formula of Concord preclude a genuine unity between it
and the earlier documents in the Book of Concord? Then
again, there are those many Lutheran confessions of the
sixteenth century that were not included in the Book of
Concord and which also point toward a diversity in
Lutheranism. It is also the case that even after the
signing of the Formula of Concord, differences in the
understanding of grace and election continued to trouble
Lutheranism.
The claim of a monoconfessional unity in Lutheranism,
over against the Reformed diversity, is not quite
accurate. On the Reformed side, moreover, we are
certainly able to recognize a common ground and
fundamental agreement in doctrine arising from the
general acceptance or several major Reformed symbols. A
monoconfessional standard does not in itself guarantee
unity—and, even so, a multiconfessional family does not
in itself indicate disunity.
But what of the claim that there are two Reformed
traditions? It is certainly true that Calvin's
covenantal teaching tends to emphasize the sovereign
activity of God in establishing the covenant of grace
and that Bullinger’s covenantal teaching tends to
emphasize human responsibility in covenant. Nonetheless,
it is also surely the case that Calvin never sought to
remove human responsibility before God, and that
Bullinger never claimed that genuine response to the
covenant could occur apart from God's grace. Both Calvin
and Bullinger stressed the necessity and priority of
grace in the work of salvation—and both recognized the
difficulty of maintaining that fine balance, typical of
Reformed theology, between an emphasis on divine
sovereignty and an insistence on human responsibility
before God. The difference in stress between the
teachings of these two pillars of the Reformed tradition
does not indicate two divergent ways of being Reformed,
but rather a certain breadth of doctrinal statement and
emphasis in the Reformed tradition itself.
Reformed unity, then, is neither the unity of a
single confession nor even the unity of a book of
confessions, such as Lutheranism boasts. Nor is it a
unity of utter agreement between its various
confessional documents. Rather, Reformed unity is a
unity of faith represented as a spectrum of opinion-a
unity within boundaries. By way of example, in the
fundamentally infralapsarian pattern of the Reformed
confessional doctrine of election, we nonetheless can
move from the infralapsarian and single
predestinarianism of the Second Helvetic Confession, to
the infralapsarian but double predestinarianism
of the Canons of Dort, to the mingling of infra- with
supralapsarian (with, I think, an infralapsarian
conclusion) in the Westminster Confession, without
feeling the need to argue either that one or another of
these confessions falls outside of the bounds of the
Reformed faith or that the high supralapsarian position,
which is definitively found in none of the documents,
violates our confessional teaching.
Even so, there are only two Reformed confessional
documents that teach the two-covenant schema of a
covenant of works and a covenant of grace—the Irish
Articles and the Westminster Confession—and the schema
is, admittedly, a minor theme in the Irish Articles.
Nonetheless, the two-covenant schema is a significant,
even central, doctrinal motif in much Dutch Reformed
theology, where it has never been a confessional theme.
In the English Reformed tradition, the schema became a
matter of confessional teaching—in the Dutch Reformed
tradition, it did not. We might even hazard the guess
that the difference is rooted purely in the historical
development of Reformed theology and in the fact that
the Dutch Reformed confessional development came to a
close at the Synod of Dort, before the great flowering
of Reformed covenant theology, while the Puritan
Revolution brought about a confessional situation in
England after that flowering had taken place. In any
case, this confessional diversity does not mark a point
of dissention in doctrine between branches of the
Reformed faith. Terminology and interpretation of the
prelapsarian covenant varies in the orthodox Reformed
systems sometimes the concept is absent, sometimes it is
present as a "covenant of nature," and other times as a
"covenant of works." More importantly, the outworkings
of the doctrine of the covenant of grace are clearly
present in the baptismal teaching and practice of all
the Reformed churches.
In the midst of our confessional diversity, there is
a genuine unity. It is not a unity framed by
confessional doctrines that are absolutely uniform,
throughout the Reformed churches. We not only can
experience differences in emphasis among our churches,
we also ought to be able to recognize that the unity of
all the Reformed churches functions very much like the
confessional unity of believers under any one of the
documents. In other words, once a churchly confession is
accepted as a doctrinal norm, it provides boundaries for
theological and religious expression, but it also offers
considerable latitude for the development of varied
theological and religious expression within those
boundaries.
Thus, two fully orthodox but nevertheless different
systems of theology, like Herman Hoeksema's Reformed
Dogmatics and Louis Berkhof s Systematic
Theology, both stand within the confessional
boundaries identified by the Three Forms of Unity.
Similarly, given the breadth of Reformed teaching on the
doctrine of predestination—from the Second Helvetic
Confession to the Westminster Confession—we can
acknowledge such diverse statements of the doctrine as
those of Berkhof, Hoeksema, Hodge, or, among the older
dogmaticians, Ames, Perkins, and Turretin, as all
expressing Reformed teaching. Nonetheless, we raise an
eyebrow (or perhaps two) at the hypothetical
universalism of Moises Amyraut, and we feel quite
justified in the sentiment that Arminianism is excluded
not only by the Canons of Dort, but also by a correct
understanding of any and all of the confessions in the
Reformed family.
Each confession singly permits a variety of teaching
within its boundaries-typically a variety caused by
theological explanations and elaborations that enter
into greater detail than the confession. The family of
confessions permits this kind of variety as well, but it
also permits within the larger Reformed faith—a variety
within the spectrum of belief caused by differences
among the confessions themselves. Our unity, then, is a
unity that exists along a spectrum of doctrinal
statements and, at the same time, remains within the
boundaries established in one way by our particular
confessional standards and in yet another by the larger
family of Reformed confessions. And it is a unity that
has belonged to the Reformed churches from the very
beginning of their history without either a
monoconfessional or a multiconfessional standard held in
common by all of the churches.
3. Pressures on Confessional Integrity in Our
Times
Granting the confessional unity of the Reformed
churches within the boundaries set by their several sets
of confessional standards, the second issue to be
addressed is that of confessional integrity within the
diversity. The issue here is not simply one of
allegiance to the doctrines contained in our
confessional documents—the issue is also one of the
fundamental acknowledgment of the importance of having
and holding our confessions as such and, as a
group or confessional family, recognizing the importance
and the distinctiveness of our Reformed faith. Perhaps I
should say from the outset of this part of my
presentation that I am not about to offer a ready-made
solution—what I want to do is to frame or, more
precisely, to re-frame a particular problem and, by
drawing attention to it from a slightly different
vantage point, to encourage others to develop solutions
with a particular view of the problem in mind.
It is all too easy to identify the loss of interest
in, and the loss of desire to maintain, traditional
points of doctrine, such as salvation by grace alone
through faith as grounded in God’s election, or Christ's
purchase of salvation in an act that was both a
substitution for us in the place of punishment and a
satisfaction for us to the divine demand of payment for
the offense of sin, or of the spiritual presence of
Christ to believers in and through their faithful
participation in the Lord's Supper, as the result of a
national and international slide down the slippery slope
into liberalism. After all, liberal Christianity
typically inserts a positive view of human nature and
its abilities into its doctrine of salvation and grace;
it expresses difficulty with the seeming inhumanity and
arbitrariness of divine decrees; it can scorn penal
substitutionary atonement either as an unforgivable
legalism or as a patriarchal teaching about an abusive
father, and it finds little use for the mystery of the
Lord's Supper and quite easily and comfortably reduces
the Supper from the status of sacrament or means of
grace to that of ordinance. There is, however, another
source of confessional erosion that produces similar
and, at times, identical results—and to which we are
much more susceptible.
I am speaking here of the noncredal,
non-confessional, and sometimes even anti-confessional
and anti-traditional biblicism of conservative American
religion. One recent evangelical systematic theology
makes the point that confessional theology is a form of
"indoctrination" that ought to be avoided-and, over the
years, I have heard similar comments from students who
were associated with the noncredal churches:
Confessions are unnecessary at best when. one has the
Bible. At worst, they prevent their adherents from
encountering the meaning of Scripture. I have
usually asked such students whether they believe in the
doctrine of the Trinity, specifically, the doctrine of
one divine essence in three persons. When they nearly
invariably respond positively, I point out to them that
they are not really noncredal or non-confessional, but
are in fact adherents to the Niceno-Constantinopolitan
Creed from the Second Ecumenical Council (A.D. 381).
I ask next whether, from their noncredal perspective,
they view it as permissible to hold a doctrine of the
Trinity according to which only the Father is truly God,
and the Son, as "the firstborn of all creation" who
himself confesses, "The Father is greater than I," might
be viewed as an exalted creature of God. Of course, they
deny such a possibility-but they have very great
difficulty arguing against it in brief, without recourse
to the Nicene formula: Arianism, after all, did have its
scriptural proof texts. The point is, then, quite simply
made that we need creeds and confessions so that we, as
individuals, can approach Scripture in the context of
the community of belief. It is not that creeds and
confessions stand above Scripture as norms. Not at all.
They stand below, but also with Scripture as churchly
statements concerning the meaning of Scripture. And
therefore, they also stand above the potentially
idiosyncratic individual and prevent him from becoming
his own norm of doctrine even as they provide entry for
him into a churchly perspective.
The noncredal, anti-confessional tendency thus
understands the sola Scriptura of the Reformation in a
manner that the Reformers themselves never did and
surely would have repudiated. On this particular count,
had they the opportunity, the Reformers would most
probably associate much conservative American religion
with the biblicism of Servetus and the Socinians or with
various Anabaptist groups. Of course, someone will
object, conservative American religion, much of which
identifies itself as fundamentalist or evangelical, is
not anti-trinitarian. That it true-but much of it is
doctrinally dispensational, premillennial,
anti-sacramental, opposed to the baptism of infants,
anti- or non-covenantal, and stylistically
anti-liturgical and revivalistic. It is distinctly
non-Reformed-or, more broadly, not rooted in the
Reformation-granting that our confessional Lutheran
brethren are presently experiencing the same kind of
erosion of confessional and liturgical sensibilities.
4. Reaffirming and Strengthening Confessional
Integrity
As said previously, I have no specific solution to
this problem of Reformed Christianity in America, but I
do have a series of suggestions or, more precisely, a
series of points to ponder at the pastoral, the
educational (whether in the local church or in. our
seminaries), and the denominational levels. We must rind
ways to express our unity with one another as Reformed
Christians-and this can clearly and constructively begin
with a consistent reference to our confessional and
liturgical heritage. Differences in confessional
allegiance within the Reformed family ought not to be
the basis for doubts concerning either our unity or our
need for ongoing dialogue and discourse with one another
in a world that increasingly appears to doubt the
significance of confessions and of liturgy.
We must be convinced enough of the continuing
significance of our confessional heritage
(including its relation to liturgy and hymnody) to
resist the desire to create church growth by losing our
identity. One of the most appalling "strategies" of
contemporary evangelization is the assumption that we
must find the least distinctive, least offensive, lowest
common denominator in order to attract the most people.
Christian symbols, distinctive services, traditional
hymnody, and disturbing language about the human
predicament can all be set aside in order to appear
open-this in a religion where the authoritative canon of
Scripture tells us that the cross, the central
redemptive event in the plan of God, is a scandal and an
offense! Our confessions and their active expression in
worship present the fundamental teachings of our faith:
the issue is not popularity but, one might say, "truth
in advertising."
We must, in addition, become more conscious of the
crucial linkage between our confessional and our
liturgical heritage. The forms of worship and the
hymnody of the Reformed churches have consistently
reflected and supported the teaching of our
confessions-and, indeed, have historically been one of
the primary avenues of instruction in our confessional
teaching alongside of preaching and catechesis. Thus,
the orders of baptism in the Reformed and Presbyterian
churches echo the confessions in their own declarations
that our children "belong, with us who believe, to the
membership of the Church through the covenant made in
Christ,"2 or that "God
graciously includes our children in his covenant, and
all his promises are for them as well as us.... We are
therefore always to teach our little ones that they have
been set apart by baptism as God's children."
3
Similarly, the words of virtually all Reformed
services of the Lord's Supper, "Lift up your hearts,"
and the response, "We lift them up unto the Lord,"
although one of the very ancient parts of the service,
stand in a special relationship to the Reformed
understanding of the Lord's Supper. The spiritual
uplifting of the heart in and through the words of the
liturgy echo and instruct in the faith of the
confessions, where we read that we truly partake of
Christ's body and blood "not by the mouth but by the
Spirit, through faith" inasmuch as "Christ remains
always seated at the right hand of God the Father in
heaven."4 The
confessional and liturgical point, to paraphrase one of
my favorite Protestant orthodox theologians, Amandus
Polanus, is that we do not claim to drag the risen and
glorious body of our Lord down to this wretched and
miserable earth, but that, by the power of the Spirit,
our hearts are joined to him in heavenly places. The
connection between liturgy and confession is clear. Loss
of the Reformed order of worship can lead directly to a
loss of relevance of the confessions to the life of the
believing community.
I would make a similar case for the confessional
character of Reformed hymnody and the danger of its loss
or replacement with popular hymns not rooted in the
faith of the Reformation. Perhaps I have become a bit
over-sensitive when I begin to cringe during a service
of worship at the sound of the contemporary evangelical
hymn, "Father, I Adore You," sung to the neglect of such
traditional Reformed hymns as "God of the Prophets,"
"Now Thank We All Our God," or "All People That on Earth
Do Dwell." And perhaps I am a bit too analytical when I
examine "Father, I Adore You" and note that the only
subject of its several clauses is the human "I"—all of
the movement in the hymn begins in the human self, and
all that we are directly taught by its words is
something about ourselves. This identification of all
religion as subjective experience is the point at which
the conservative, evangelical community joins hands with
Schleiermacher and tacitly confesses that he is the
church father of the modern era. By way of contrast, our
Reformed hymnody seldom loses itself in subjectivity.
The human subject is assuredly present, not as a naked
"I," but as a member of the corporate community of
faith: "Now thank we all our God, with heart and
hands and voices." But, then, immediately, the hymn
speaks to us objectively of the providential and
redemptive ground of our thanks: "who wondrous things
has done, in whom his world rejoices."
Yet another instance is what appears to me to be the
incredible liturgical insensitivity of including "Let Us
Break Bread Together on Our Knees" in our service of the
Lord's Supper, given that kneeling at the Supper was set
aside by the Reformers at the very beginnings of our
faith because of its association with the adoration of
the host in the Roman Catholic Mass. At the very
least, standing (or sitting) while singing about
kneeling is incongruous—at most, it points to a variety
of eucharistic piety that Calvin and his contemporaries
took pains to avoid. Examples could easily be
multiplied.
We must, I would suggest, be ready to test new orders
of worship and new hymnody not only through popular
practice but according to confessional standards. It is,
I admit, a rather difficult task in some of our
churches, where freedom in hymnody and order of worship
has replaced the liturgical straitjacket that was the
norm several decades ago. Like confessional diversity,
liturgical diversity has been characteristic of the
Reformed churches since the beginning and has never been
a threat to our unity or to our integrity. There is no
need to deny new orders of worship, or the adaptation of
old orders to new circumstances, or the use of new
hymns. But there is a need to test carefully the new
orders and any new hymns before we admit them to our
regular worship. The point here is much the same as the
point I made concerning church growth: we are called
upon by our confessions to maintain our identity for the
sake of our Reformed understanding of the very nature
and meaning of the gospel.
We must do all that we can to assure the contemporary
use of our confessions and catechisms in the life of the
church. They must not be relegated to the status of dead
standards that are brought to bear only when
problems arise and are then put back on a shelf in a
closed book when the crisis has passed. It is well for
us to remember that the confessions of the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries were, first and foremost,
declarations of faith. They were not (and, therefore,
ought not to become) rules for belief imposed on the
church from without: they are normative declarations
spoken from within by the church itself, for the
sake of pronouncing the church's biblical faith. We do
justice to their contents only when we declare them—only
when we confess them—as the expression of our corporate
faith and corporate identity. More confessions and
varied patterns of subscription are not the solution to
our problem. Only the regular use of our confessions as
standards for the expression of biblical truth can
render them effective and, indeed, contemporary in their
significance. Only by declaring the confessions, by
using them in the contexts of preaching, of teaching,
and of corporate worship, can they fulfill their
intended role as positive guides, arising out of the
faith of the church in its meditation on Scripture, to
the ongoing work of the Reformed churches.
In closing, I would simply commend to you our great
heritage and commend to you as well the work of holding
fast to what is most valuable in our tradition for the
sake of our present and future work in the service of
the gospel. Our unity will appear clearly in the
declaration of our faith through our distinctive
confessions and through the reflection of our
confessional heritage in our forms of worship. Our
Reformed identity depends on our willingness to
declare our confessions and in so doing to confess the
faith.
Endnotes
1 J. Wayne Baker,
Heinrich Bullinger and the Covenant: The Other
Reformed Tradition (Athens, Ohio, 1980).
2 The Book of
Common Worship (Philadelphia, 1946, 121).
3 Psalter Hymnal
(Grand Rapids, 1987), 961.
4. Belgic
Confession, 35. |
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