As I mentioned a few posts back, I've been reading John Bolt's little volume, Christian and Reformed Today. The book is available as a free PDF here. I have been plugging the book on Twitter and Facebook in the last few days because as I have been reading through it, I have come to realise how important of a book it is. If you consider yourself to be an adherent of the Reformed tradition, this book should be required reading. Bolt does an excellent job of summarising the tradition and demonstrating it to be a holistic worldview, not just a soteriological perspective. The recent resurgence in Reformed theology, specifically amongst the so-called New Calvinists, has led many to adopt the label of 'Reformed' without understanding the fullness and breadth of the tradition. Reformed theology, Bolt argues, is about a lot more than the redemption of our souls.

I may post more on this as I continue to read. Since we are in the middle of traveling and moving right now, I was not sure I would get the time to do so, but it seems I might. Stay tuned for more. In the meantime, be sure to download and read Bolt's book, and spread the word. With the increasing number of people claiming to be Reformed, this is becoming especially important.

If you study the history of American Christianity, as I have been doing over the past couple of months, one of the themes that appears again and again is the emphasis on conversion. It is not an emphasis that has faded over time, either—even today many Christians continue to hold to the idea that one must have a definable moment of conversion followed by a decision on their part to follow Christ in order to legitimately be considered a Christian.

In the 18th and 19th century, during a period of revivalism, men like Charles Finney made this emphasis the cornerstone of their preaching. These preachers would constantly urge their listeners to make a decision to follow Christ in the hopes of seeing many conversions take place on the spot, much like the modern "altar call." Predictably, there was strong reaction against this from certain quarters. Back in 1902, for example, the Reformed Church in the United States had published an edition of the Heidelberg Catechism (rather unoriginally titled The Heidelberg Catechism of the Reformed Church in the United States, 20th Century Edition) in which it was made clear that while some people would legitimately be able to point to a time when they first believed, this was not something that every Christian had to articulate (contrary to the opinion of Finney, et. al.). Under the heading "On Confirmation, Catechism, and Conversion," was this:

What are the qualifications for full [communicant] membership?

Answer: an intelligent, cheerful, humble, sincere, earnest 'yes' to the three confirmation vows of repentance, faith, and obedience.

Need I tell you that this fitness is conversion? Some persons, not understanding our church life and customs, foolishly think that we confirm our young people no matter what their state of mind and heart is, and that we do not believe in conversion. This is a great mistake. We require a high degree of fitness for confirmation, namely, an intelligent, sincere, and unreserved taking of three most searching and far-reaching vows in the name of the holy Trinity.

Then, too, this fitness for confirmation may be called 'a change in heart,' though this is only another name for conversion. This change is not sudden, but runs through years. You have not had any wonderful religious experiences, such as you hear about in others; but the Holy Ghost has done much in you in a very quiet way.

Nor need you doubt your conversion, your change in heart, because you cannot tell the day when it took place, as many profess to do. It did not take place in a day, or you might tell it. It is the growth of years (Mark 4:26-28), and therefore all the more reliable. You cannot tell when you learned to walk, talk, think, and work. You do not know when you learned to love your earthly father, much less the heavenly.

This the Reformed doctrine of 'getting religion.' We get religion, not in bulk but little by little. Just as we get natural life and strength, so spiritual life and strength, day by day.

To this fitness, this preparation of heart and mind, you profess to have come. You are about to take your vows, turning your back to the Devil, the world, and the flesh, while you look heavenward. Fix your whole heart upon Christ. Consecrate yourself fully to his service, realizing that with body and soul, in life and in death, you are his.

I found this to be very interesting, not least for its emphasis on the idea that precisely because you cannot point to a specific time of conversion, you should consider it all the more reliable. One did not need a Damascus Road experience to be certain of their faith, for the work of God in the heart of the believer was a gradual, ongoing process. Religion does not come in bulk, it is here argued. What do you think?

*Thanks to my professor, John Muether, for sending this my way.

Cornelius Van Til argued that Reformed theology demanded a Reformed apologetic, one based on its doctrine of God and doctrines of grace. John Muether, in his excellent biography of Van Til, quotes him at length on this issue:

A generally evangelical apologetic to a large extent defeats its own purposes. True enough much good may be accomplished, both by an Arminian theology and by a generally evangelical method of apologetic. In this fact all who love the Lord will rejoice. But how much more good may be accomplished by the grace of God through a more consistently Biblical theology and a more consistenly Biblical apologetic. A generally evangelical apologetic does not drive the natural man down into a corner with no hope of escape. It does not track him down till he is at bay. It does not destroy his last shelter. His fire is not altogether extinguished...A plea for a vigorous apologetic ought therefore to be a plea for a genuinely Reformed apologetic. We may not be clear, indeed as to the full implications of a truly Reformed apologetic. But this fact does not justify us in refusing to point out those who, with us, love the Christian faith that a generally evanglical apologetic...is inadequate for any time and especially inadequate for our time.

Van Til's presuppositionalism reflected his debt to the theology of Herman Bavinck, who had written in the first volume of his Reformed Dogmatics years earlier:

Apologetics cannot precede faith and does not attempt a priori to argue the truth of revelation. It assumes the truth and belief in the truth. It does not, as the introductory part or as the foundational science, precede theology and dogmatics. It is itself a theological science through and through, which presupposes the faith and dogmatics and now maintains and defends the dogma against the opposition to which it is exposed.

...If Christian revelation, which presupposes the darkness and error of unspiritual humanity, submitted in advance to the judgments of reason, it would by that token contradict itself. It would thereby place itself before a tribunal whose jurisdiction it had first denied. And having once recognized the authority of reason on the level of first principles, it could no longer oppose that authority in the articles of faith.

Anyone with even a cursory knowledge of Van Til knows that the first thing he would do when entering a classroom is to draw the diagram you see at the left on the chalkboard. The two circle diagram was representative of the Creator-creature distinction, one which Van Til unapologetically (no pun intended) maintained was absolutely crucial to Christian thought. The two lines connecting the circles represented the covenantal relationship between God and man. Man, the creature, was always dependent on God, the Creator, and His revelation. The one circle on the left represented non-Christian thought, where any idea of "God" was rooted in the creature.

It was for this reason that apologetics could never have its foundation in any thought that rejected the Creator-creature distinction. No vague notions of reason would suffice, neither would the idea that Christians and non-Christians could find some sort of neutral ground from which to engage in apologetics. And so he devoted himself to working out an apologetic that honoured the relationship between God and man and rooted itself fully in the revelation of God. For Van Til, there simply was no other way.

R. Scott Clark, a professor at Westminster Seminary in California, wrote a book recently called Recovering the Reformed Confession: Our Theology, Piety, and Practice. The premise of the book is that the Reformed community is losing or has lost its sense of identity, and that it needs to recover it. Clark writes, "Much of what passes as Reformed among our churches is not. Its sources, spirit, and methods are alien to Reformed theology, piety, and practice. There are significant segments within the Reformed communion that define 'Reformed' in ways that our forefathers would not understand" (4).

Earlier today, John Frame posted a review of the book on his website. Someone apparently told Frame that the book should instead be called, Why John Frame is Wrong About Absolutely Everything. While that is humorous, it recognizes that there is a tension between Clark's and Frame's ideas of being Reformed, and that Clark is, in part, taking Frame to task in the book. If you're going to read the review, be sure to sit back in a comfortable chair—it is very long.

I haven't read Clark's book, and I won't if his writing in the book is anything like his blog (which I've had to stop reading because I have to keep my blood pressure under control). The problem with guys like Clark is that while they sometimes raise good questions—and I think the points in his book are largely worth discussing—they do it without humility and grace. Frame has taken to calling contentious voices like this the "Reformed Controversialists," and for good reason. More time seems to be spent on tearing others down than on constructively working through the issues at hand. It is unfortunate, because they could bring a lot of good questions to the table, and their voices could contribute a lot more to the building up of the Church.

In Ephesians 4, Paul talks about the need to speak the truth in love to preserve the unity of the body of Christ. As I've mentioned before, there is a reason that they honoured Frame by titling his festschrift with those words. All of us who have been privileged and blessed to study under him will tell you that there are few men who are willing to interact with those they disagree with as lovingly and graciously as Frame does. He has been a wonderful role model for us and for the Church. Jude 3 says that we must "contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints," something Frame devotes himself to. And he does it recognizing that, like Paul in 1 Corinthians 13, if he has not love, he has nothing.

I'll be the first to admit that our traditions are important, and that we cannot live in a historical vacuum, ignorant of where we came from and who we are. These are good things to talk about, and I think Clark is right to raise questions about our Reformed identity. But resorting to a sort of hostile polemic to argue a case and misrepresenting those who hold views you don't agree with is not helpful; indeed, it's harmful and destructive to the Church (again I must acknowledged that I haven't read the book, but have spent quite a lot of time reading Clark's blog). Maybe this is the reason large segments of the Reformed community don't want to be identified with that small (albeit disproportinately vocal) segment of the Reformed community.

Read Frame's review if you want his take on the nuances of Clark's argument. All I want to emphasize is that when we interact with others who don't share our perspectives, we must do it with love and charity. We do so because of our love for God, because of our love for our neighbour, and because of our love for the Church. Granted, this is a lot harder than just lobbing grenades at your opponents. But it is required of us, and doesn't leave a trail of destruction in our wake; instead, it leaves a Church that is strengthened, edified, and brought closer to the unity Christ calls us to.

By all means, raise questions, provoke thought, discuss issues. But do so in love.