Scripture Says More Than You Think: Edwards’s Exegesis of Mutual Love

If you scan the literature, there’s been a recent boom in scholarship on Jonathan Edwards’ doctrine of the Trinity. If there’s something everyone agrees on nowadays is that whatever else Edwards is, he’s a trinitarian. One other takeaway, though, is that his trinitarianism is at once traditional and innovative.

In his context, pressured by Deists, Subordinationists, and other varieties of anti-trinitarian theologians, he sought to defend and deliver the doctrine of the Trinity to his people. He aimed to show both that it was fitting with the best speculative, idealistic philosophy of the day, but more importantly that it was the plain teaching of Scripture. (Though, it’s good to note Edwards’ readiness to blend the two is somewhat unique since most Reformed Scholastics shied away from the speculative moves developed by some of the Fathers and the Medievals, preferring to focus on exegetical defenses of the doctrine.)

This comes out clearly in his originally unpublished Discourse on the Trinity. While a good chunk of it is dedicated to parsing theological and philosophical analysis of persons, ideas, and so forth, the bulk is concerned with demonstrating the Scriptural foundations of his view. Edwards opines, “I think the Scripture reveals a great deal more about it than is ordinarily taken notice of.”

One place this comes out is in his treatment of the Holy Spirit. Edwards could be considered a broadly Augustinian theologian of the Trinity here. Augustine famously developed a number of psychological triads in De Trinitate. Taking his cue from man being made in the image of God (Gen. 1:26), he takes the rational soul as the closest (dark) mirror of the Godhead in the world (7:12; 12.6-7). Augustine then proposes three mental triads on the basis of God being love (1 John 4:8). First, he posits that love needs a lover, beloved, and love itself (8:12-14). Second, in the activities of the mind remembering, understanding, and loving itself (10:17-18). Third, and this was his favored analogy, the mind’s ascent in wisdom to remembering, understanding, and loving God (14:15, 25).

Edwards’ formulation most closely resembles the triad of Book 9, but with modifications due to his different metaphysics and context. The thing to note, though, is that in both Augustine and Edwards, the Holy Spirit is identified with the love of God, especially as its understood as the mutual love of the Father and the Son. In their work The Trinitarian Theology of Jonathan Edwards (106), Steven Studebaker and Robert Caldwell identify key components of the model:

Five elements tend to characterize the Augustinian mutual love tradition in its various historical expressions. These characteristics form a fivefold gestalt. These are: 1.) the use of mental triads or the operations of the rational soul to illustrate the Trinity, 2.) the Father as the unbegotten, 3.) the generation of the Son as the Word, 4.) the procession of the Holy Spirit as the mutual love of the Father and the Son, and 5.) the reciprocity between the economic missions and the immanent processions of the divine persons.

Here’s Edwards stating the doctrine positively:

The Godhead being thus begotten by God’s having an idea of himself and standing forth in a distinct subsistence or person in that idea, there proceeds a most pure act, and infinitely holy and sweet energy arises between the Father and the Son: for their love and joy is mutual, in mutually loving and delighting in each other. Prov. 8:30, “I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before [him].” This is the eternal and most perfect and essential act of the divine nature, wherein the Godhead acts to an infinite degree and in the most perfect manner possible. The Deity becomes all act; the divine essence itself flows out and is as it were breathed forth in love and joy. So that the Godhead therein stands forth in yet another manner of subsistence, and there proceeds the third person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit, viz. the Deity in act: for there is no other act by the act of the will.

Now, we can’t get into all the details about how Edwards’ idealism has inflected the whole account, but you see the basic elements in play here: the psychological analogy, the Father unbegotten, the generation of the Word, the Spirit as mutual love of Father and Son, and so forth.

Whether consciously or not, Edwards also follows some of Augustine’s key, exegetical moves, including his focus on 1 John 4. (On which, see Matthew Levering, “The Holy Spirit in the Trinitarian Communion: ‘Love’ and ‘Gift’?” IJST Volume 16 Number 2 April 2014, 126-142.) Edwards suggests the “Godhead or the divine nature and essence does subsist in love” is confirmed in the statement of 1 John 4:8, “God is love.”

But he argues that verses 12-13 in the same chapter “plainly” suggest to us that love is the Holy Spirit, since they read, “If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us. Hereby we know that we dwell in him, because he hath given us the Spirit.” For Edwards, it is clear that the apostle John has identified the love of God in us as God’s dwelling with us, which happens by the Spirit’s dwelling within us. This “confirms not only that the divine nature subsists in love, but also that this love is the Spirit; for it is the Spirit of God by which God dwells in his saints.”

Edwards finds this logic confirmed in dozens of texts (Rom. 5:5; Phil 2:1; 2 Cor. 6:6; Col. 1:8), the name of the Spirit, the work of the Spirit in sanctification, types of the Spirit (oil), symbols of the Spirit (dove), metaphors and similitudes (water, fire, breath, wind, a spring, a river, etc), and so on.

Returning to the Spirit’s work in sanctification, Edwards says that communion with God is to participate in the Holy Spirit:

Communion is a common partaking of good, either of excellency or happiness, so that when it is said the saints have communion or fellowship with the Father and with the Son, the meaning of it is that they partake with the Father and the Son of their good, which is either their excellency and glory, (2 Pet. 1:4, “ye are made partakers of the divine nature;” Heb. 12:10, “that we might be partakers of his holiness;” John 17:22–23, “and the glory which thou hast given me I have given them that they may be one even as we are one I in them and thou in me”); or of their joy and happiness: John 17:13, “that they might have my joy fulfilled in themselves.” But the Holy Ghost, being the love and joy of God, is his beauty and happiness, and it is in our partaking of the same Holy Spirit that our communion with God consists…

Here Edwards moves on to make a very interesting observation that demonstrates how attentive he is to Scripture in these matters. He supposes that this notion that the Spirit is the mutual love of the Father and the Son which is given to believers is the only good account for the fact that Paul (13x!) wishes grace and peace from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, without ever mentioning the Holy Spirit by name. This only makes sense if, “the Holy Ghost is himself love and grace of God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” Or again, in places like John 14:21 and 23, Christ mentions the love of Father and Son for believers, “but no mention is made of the Holy Ghost” or “never any mention of the Holy Ghost’s love.”

Even more strikingly, Edwards notes how Scripture seems to be silent about the love of the Spirit within the Godhead itself:

I suppose to be the reason why we have never any account of the Holy Ghost’s loving either the Father or the Son, or of the Son’s or the Father’s loving the Holy Ghost, or of the Holy Ghost’s loving the saints, though these things are so often predicated of both the other persons.

The only account Edwards can give for Scripture’s silence regarding the Spirit’s mutual love for Father and Son is rooted in the abundance Scripture’s witness regarding the Spirit mutual love of Father and Son.

This isn’t even close to a full account of either Edwards’s exegesis, pneumatology, or his trinitarian theology.  What’s more recent works by Kyle Strobel, Oliver Crisp, and others have pointed out, Edwards’s account of the Trinity has some very serious, conceptual oddities. Still, even if one does not follow Edwards in all of his theological maneuvers, it’s clear articulation serves as a model for theologians who believe careful, committed exegesis need not be pitted against speculative, metaphysical reasoning in theology.

More importantly, on the material question of the Spirit as the mutual bond of love, he shows the plausibility and seriousness that should be given it on Scriptural grounds. Recognizing the Spirit as the, “infinitely holy and sweet energy [which] arises between the Father and the Son” need not be a matter of philosophical fancy after all, but rather of God’s own Self-Witness in his Word.

Soli Deo Gloria

Edwards: Heaven is a World of Triune Love (W/ Some Help From Strobel)

Cheesy

Cheesy “Heaven” Image, because nobody clicks on pages with Jonathan Edwards.

Recently, I’ve been on something a Jonathan Edwards kick. Though I’d been kind of interested in Edwards before–his The End for Which God Created the World and a collection of his sermons exercised a deep influence on me a few years ago–I hadn’t really dug deeply into his voluminous and wide-ranging works (sermons, treatises, miscellanies), partially because I felt I needed a guide into them. Some might think, “A guide for Edwards? Really?” Yup.

See, generations of U.S. History students have been spoiled for reading Jonathan Edwards simply because they’ve only been exposed to hostile expositions of his classic Great Awakening sermon “Sinner in the Hands of an Angry God” at the age of 15, or so. The unfortunate picture that emerges is of a hell-obsessed, brimstone preacher, with little to no theological imagination except in expositing the tortures of the damned. Push a little beyond that, though, and you come to find out the revival preacher was also a creative theologian, pastor, and philosophical innovator of the highest order. Indeed, according to many intellectual historians, it’s likely he’s the first and most original theologian the Americas ever produced, capable of being ranked among the greatest intellects of his age across the Atlantic.  Theologian Robert Jenson, himself no slouch, has called him “America’s Theologian.”

As it turns out, Edwards was rather metaphysically-sophisticated, and, in some places, kind of a quirky odd-ball in the Reformed tradition, which plays out in places you wouldn’t expect. For that reason, I decided to get my hands on Kyle Strobel’s Jonathan Edwards’ Theology: A Reinterpetation. It’s been an eye-opener. Thing is, this isn’t just a modest field-guide for the novice reader. Strobel’s work comes in the midst of a recent wave of Edwards scholarship in the blossoming field of “Edwards Studies”, with an aim to correct a lot of the discussion that’s gone before, and reset a lot of the conversation surrounding the basic shape of Edwards’ theology. Now, from where I stand as a total non-expert and unqualified observer, I can’t judge how much he does that. What I can say is that’s been a fascinating, helpful read so far.

At the heart of Strobel’s argument–insofar as I’m following it–is that Edwards’ Reformed theology (not philosophy, mind you), is a vision of the Triune God whose fundamental existence is one of “personal beatific delight.” The God from whom are all things and to whom all things are oriented, is the one whose inner life is that of the Father and Son’s mutual gaze in the delight of the Spirit. The Father’s own knowledge is the Son whom he loves and delights in through the love that is the Spirit. But it does not end with the Father’s love of the Son, in the Spirit. As he writes in Heaven is a World of Love:

And the Son of God is not only the infinite object of love, but he is also an infinite subject of it. He is not only the beloved of the Father, but he infinitely loves him. The infinite essential love of God, is, as it were, an infinite and eternal, mutual, holy, energy between the Father and the Son: a pure and holy act, whereby the Deity becomes, as it were, one infinite and unchangeable emotion of love proceeding from both the Father and the Son. This divine love has its seat in the Deity, as it is exercised within the Deity, or in God toward himself.

From this eternally happy and glorious self-knowledge and love, flows God’s purpose in creation and the history of redemption: God’s benevolent self-glorification in the communication of the overflow of that good to creatures. Everything else from Edwards’ quirky take on the attributes of God, his understanding of heaven, earth, and hell, the structure of redemptive history, the nature of union, justification, sanctification, and glorification, and so on, has its ground in Edwards’ irrefragably trinitarian theology.

And yes, thinking these things through with Edwards and Strobel really is as heady, intoxicating, difficult, and rewarding it sounds.

Heaven is a World of Triune Love

One particular section that caught my attention was the way this vision grounds Edwards’ vision of heaven as “a world of love”, which he gets into in a sermon by the same title I have already quoted above. Edwards’ vision of heaven is fascinating for a number of reasons, not least of which is his appreciation for its dynamic, historical character. Yes, according to Edwards, even heaven has a history, with different eras ushered in by the different stage of Christ’s historical work of redemption. Heaven and earth and more intimately bound up with each other, in that respect, than many of us typically appreciate.

But what makes heaven a world of love? Well, God, of course:

Here I remark that the God of love himself dwells in heaven. Heaven is the palace or presence-chamber of the high and holy One, whose name is love, and who is both the cause and source of all holy love…And this renders heaven a world of love; for God is the fountain of love, as the sun is the fountain of light. And therefore the glorious presence of God in heaven, fills heaven with love, as the sun, placed in the midst of the visible heavens in a clear day, fills the world with light. The apostle tells us that “God is love;” and therefore, seeing he is an infinite being, it follows that he is an infinite fountain of love.

Like Bavinck, Edwards knows that the best part of Heaven or the New Creation is that it is the dwelling of God himself. God is not secondary or tertiary to the good of heaven, but the central focus of it. God is what makes heaven heavenly.

It’s not enough, though, to talk about God as the fountain of love, as the source of love, or the presence of love. We must press forward and understand that it is because this God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit that heaven is a world of love:

There, even in heaven, dwells the God from whom every stream of holy love, yea, every drop that is, or ever was, proceeds. There dwells God the Father, God the Son, and God the Spirit, united as one, in infinitely dear, and incomprehensible, and mutual, and eternal love.

There dwells God the Father, who is the father of mercies, and so the father of love, who so loved the world as to give his only-begotten Son to die for it.

There dwells Christ, the Lamb of God, the prince of peace and of love, who so loved the world that he shed his blood, and poured out his soul unto death for men. There dwells the great Mediator, through whom all the divine love is expressed toward men, and by whom the fruits of that love have been purchased, and through whom they are communicated, and through whom love is imparted to the hearts of all God’s people. There dwells Christ in both his natures, the human and the divine, sitting on the same throne with the Father.

And there dwells the Holy Spirit — the Spirit of divine love, in whom the very essence of God, as it were, flows out, and is breathed forth in love, and by whose immediate influence all holy love is shed abroad in the hearts of all the saints on earth and in heaven.

Strobel points out that this vision of heaven is one of “personal beatific delight” in God (106). The God of Heaven is the God given us in the Son, our Mediator in two natures, who reveals the Father who sent him and the Spirit who comes to us as another Advocate to apply the Son’s work in our lives. In other words, the delight is one that believers (and angels as well) receive through the mediating work of Jesus, which continues even in heaven and is effected in us by the Spirit. In this way, Christians participate in a secondary and derived sense, in “God’s own personal beatific delight.”

This delight doesn’t consist only in the believer’s union with God, but, if I’m getting it right, in the greater union believers have with each other. Strobel says, “seeing and knowing God in this manner results in unity among the members” as they jointly grow in their love, knowledge, and worship of the Redeemer to whom they are mutually united (106). The communion of the saints is part of the delight of heaven brought about by, founded on, and participating in the communion of the Triune God.

At the heart of Edwards’ vision of heaven, then, is this:

…infinite fountain of love — this eternal Three in One — is set open without any obstacle to hinder access to it, as it flows forever. There this glorious God is manifested, and shines forth, in full glory, in beams of love. And there this glorious fountain forever flows forth in streams, yea, in rivers of love and delight, and these rivers swell, as it were, to an ocean of love, in which the souls of the ransomed may bathe with the sweetest enjoyment, and their hearts, as it were, be deluged with love!

That is a vision to stir the affections, create a longing in our hearts, and a vision of hope that ought to press us to anticipate our future with God even now.

How?

Well, first by seeking after the glory of the Triune God through prayer. Remember, we have access even now through Jesus and the Spirit, to the throne room of the Father. What’s more, in Scripture, we are presented with a vision of Jesus, our Redeemer, working in the power of the Spirit, in whom we see the perfect Image of the Father.

Soli Deo Gloria

Leveraging the Attributes *for* Salvation (Edwards on the Glory of God in Salvation–Again)

chess 2Yes, this is another post on salvation, the attributes, and Jonathan Edwards in The Wisdom of God, Displayed in the Way of Salvation. He’s already demonstrated the way that each, or at least a good many, of the attributes are glorified and displayed the work of redemption, as well as the particular persons of the Trinity. But Edwards doesn’t stop there. From another angle, Edwards makes the argument that it is the wisdom of God in salvation to act in such a way that the very attributes which would seem to most make us his enemy, put us in peril of damnation, separation, and the annihilation, are actually the foundation of our redemption and hope. In this way, “God’s greatest dishonor is made an occasion of his greatest glory.”

What do I mean by that? Well, Edwards reminds us of the basic reality of sin: it is a denial of God, a rebellious refusal to give God glory and honor, and set ourselves up as his enemies. We attempt to dethrone the God of the universe in our vanity. In light of this reality, all of God’s attributes seem to demand vindication. His truth demands the public demonstration that he keeps his word to curse disobedience. His holiness demands the eradication of impurity. His justice seems to demand the punishment of sin, lest God be an unjust judge. And yet, “so has God contrived, that those very attributes not only allow of man’s redemption, and are not inconsistent with it, but they are glorified in it.”

Indeed, the Triune one has so arranged the work of salvation such that his attributes now demand the salvation of sinners: “it is so ordered now that the glory of these attributes requires the salvation of those that believe.”

This argument taps into the logic of the apostle, John. John writes to the church in Ephesus that, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). God is faithful and just to forgive sins? Why is it a matter of justice to forgive sins? Well, because in verses 2:1-2, John continues on: “But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.”

In this section, Edwards explains:

The justice of God that required man’s damnation, and seemed inconsistent with his salvation, now as much requires the salvation of those that believe in Christ, as ever before it required their damnation. Salvation is an absolute debt to the believer from God, so that he may in justice demand it, on account of what his surety has done. For Christ has satisfied justice fully for his sin. It is but a piece of justice, that the creditor should release the debtor, when he has fully paid the debt. And again, the believer may demand eternal life, because it has been merited by Christ, by a merit of condignity. So is it contrived, that justice that seemed to require man’s destruction, now requires his salvation.

He then moves on to show how the same movement is at work in God’s attributes of truth and holiness. Where it seemed they demand our total rejection, God orders things so that, upon faith in Christ, these things “require” our acceptance.

Not only that, it’s not just that redemption displays God’s attributes better than any other act. Nor is it only that God wisely arranges things so that his attributes require man’s salvation. In this way, we see God’s attributes more magnificently displayed in a way than we ever could have otherwise. “Those very attributes which seemed to require man’s destruction are more glorious in his salvation than they would have been in his destruction.”

How so? Simply damning sinners for eternity cannot compare to the utter vindication of God’s justice seen in his taking the consequences of sin upon himself in the Son all at once, in public, on the cross. The public trial in history of God’s unchangeable justice reveals God’s willingness to do justice in a way that simply leaving sinners to their fate ever could.

This is one more reason to marvel at the wisdom of God:

Such is the wisdom of salvation, that the more any of the elect have dishonored God, the more is God glorified in this redemption. Such wonders as these are accomplished by the wisdom of this way of salvation.

Not only does this give us reason to praise and glorify God, but it also is the foundation of unspeakable comfort. Many of us might look to God’s goodness, his holiness, his righteous justice, or purity, and only see reasons for guilt, rejection, shame, and despair. Edwards will not have. To think in such a way underestimated the glorious wisdom of God:

So sufficient is this way of salvation, that it is not inconsistent with any of God’s attributes to save the chief of sinners. However great a sinner any one has been, yet God can, if he pleased, save without any injury to the glory of any one attribute. And not only so, but the more sinful any one has been, the more does God glorify himself in his salvation. The more does he glorify his power, that he can redeem one in whom sin so abounds, and of whom Satan has such strong possession. — The greater triumph has Christ over his grand adversary, in redeeming and setting at liberty from his bondage those that were his greatest vassals. The more does the sufficiency of Christ appear, in that it is sufficient for such vile wretches.

This is not an excuse to sin that grace might abound, but an invitation to worship the wise grace of God, the sufficiency of Christ, which alone can give us the love for God that drives out all desire to sin.

Such is the wisdom of God. All things work for his glory and for our ultimate good.

Now think on his works, his attributes, worship, and sin no more.

Soli Deo Gloria

Conquering Our Spiritual Goliath

rubens_david_goliath_grtOne more section in Jonathan Edwards’ work on The Wisdom of God, Displayed in Salvation concerns the way this benefits the holy angels as well as the effects it has upon Satan and his minions. After a surprising amount of applications, Edwards closes with this smashing paragraph that I simply could not help but pass on:

One end why God suffered Satan to do what he did in procuring the fall of man was that his Son might be glorified in conquering that strong, subtle, and proud spirit, and triumphing over him. How glorious does Christ Jesus appear in baffling and triumphing over this proud king of darkness, and all the haughty confederate rulers of hell. How glorious a sight is it to see the meek and patient Lamb of God leading that proud, malicious, and mighty enemy in triumph! What songs does this cause in heaven! It was a glorious sight in Israel, who came out with timbrels and with dances, and sang, “Saul hath slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands.” But how much more glorious to see the Son of David, the Son of God, carrying the head of the spiritual Goliath, the champion of the armies of hell, in triumph to the heavenly Jerusalem! It is with a principal view to this, that Christ is called, “the Lord of hosts, or armies, and a man of war,” Exo. 15:3. And Psa. 24:8, “Who is this king of glory! The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle.” –Jonathan Edwards, The Wisdom of God, Displayed in the Way of Salvation, Sec. IV

All Glory to Our Mighty David, King Jesus!

Soli Deo Gloria

How Does God’s Wisdom in Salvation Display the Glory of All of God’s Attributes and Each of The Persons?

edwards2Good theology texts usually point you to other good theology texts. Recently, Adam Johnson’s little book Atonement: A Guide to the Perplexedtipped me off to Jonathan Edwards’ fascinating collection of sermons The Wisdom of God, Displayed in the Way Salvation. The title basically says it all. Taking his cue from Ephesian 3:10 (“To the intent that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places, might be known by the church the manifold wisdom of God“), Edwards sets himself investigate in just what way the multifaceted wisdom of God is displayed before the angels and heavenly authorities in the way of salvation.

This is a particularly creative work because, as Johnson notes, the emphasis on the display of wisdom presses Edwards to look at the work of God in salvation in a holistic way extending beyond the narrow focus on sin, guilt, wrath, satisfaction, and forgiveness (important as that is). In one section, for instance, Edwards expounds the wisdom of God in everything, including his choice of the person of Christ, and the way he is particularly suited as the Godman to be our Redeemer. Not only that, he examines the necessity and wisdom of the various dimensions of Christ including his birth, his life, his teaching, his death, his resurrection, and even his exaltation. Each of these facets is shown to be an important component for our reconciliation, growth in holiness, and restoration to God.

Commenting on the exaltation, he writes:

As it is wonderful, that a person who is truly divine should be humbled so as to become a servant, and to suffer as a malefactor, so it is in like manner wonderful that he who is God-man, not exclusive of the manhood, should be exalted to the power and honor of the great God of heaven and earth. But such wonders as these has infinite wisdom contrived, and accomplished in order to our salvation (emphasis added).

Attributes and Glory. The section that most caught my attention so far is the second in which he discusses the way God’s wise procurement of our of salvation in Christ points us to the glory of God’s being and attributes with particular force:

God has greatly glorified himself in the work of creation and providence. All his works praise him, and his glory shines brightly from them all. But as some stars differ from others in glory, so the glory of God shines brighter in some of his works than in others. And amongst all these, the work of redemption is like the sun in his strength. The glory of the author is abundantly the most resplendent in this work.

How does salvation highlight the being and nature of God so well? Far too often, we think of God’s salvation involving only one or two of his attributes. Well, it turns out that if we pay requisite attention to the shape of reconciliation, we would see that “Each attribute of God is glorified in the work or redemption.” Edwards backs his claim in this stunning section by examining the way the salvation wrought in Jesus displays or glorifies five of God’s attributes, with the understanding that he could just keep going down the line.

1. Power. First, it clearly displays God’s power (Edwards dwells on this more than any other attribute). I mean, how powerful do you have to be to unite both God and man in one person? “This is a greater and more marvelous work than creation.” Not only that, for God to save humanity in this way shows a greater power involved than in creation for two reasons. Creating a glorified creature is better than a mere creature. Also, creation involved bringing something into being out of nothing, but redemption means making something beautiful out of something already spoiled. Beyond that, God did all this in the face of the opposition of Satan and his minions, whom Christ the mighty triumphed over (Col. 2:14-15).

2. Justice. Second, it’s a beautiful work of justice. In salvation, we see God’s unfailing will that, “Justice should take place, though it cost his infinitely dear Son his precious blood, and his enduring such extraordinary reproach, and pain, and death in its most dreadful form.”

3. Holiness. Third, God’s holiness is displayed in the salvation of sinners. He is too pure to make peace with sin and so wills to save us in a way that makes clear “his hatred of sin” in the cross and suffering of his own Son.

4. Truth. Fourth, his truth is glorified and displayed, “both in his threatenings and his promisings.” The life, death, and resurrection of the Son prove God’s commitment to the curses and the blessings of his covenant in the Garden. “God showed hereby, that not only heaven and earth should pass away, but, which is more, that the blood of him who is the eternal Jehovah should be spilt, rather than one jot or tittle of his word should fail, till all be fulfilled.”

5. Mercy. Finally, his mercy is most gloriously manifested in the redemption. Here Edwards points out something interesting. Before the work of redemption, yes, we’d seen God’s goodness, his power, his truth, and yet no one had seen him exercise mercy until the coming of sin and our liability to judgment:

But now God has shown that he can find in his heart to love sinners, who deserve his infinite hatred. And not only has he shown that he can love them, but love them so as to give them more and do greater things for them than ever he did for the holy angels, that never sinned nor offended their Creator. He loved sinful men so as to give them a greater gift than ever he gave the angels; so as to give his own Son, and not only to give him to be their possession and enjoyment, but to give him to be their sacrifice. And herein he has done more for them than if he had given them all the visible world; yea, more than if he had given them all the angels, and all heaven besides. God has loved them so, that hereby he purchased for them deliverance from eternal misery, and the possession of immortal glory.

Persons and Glory. Obviously, Edwards could go on through attribute after attribute. Instead, he turns his attention to the glory that the work of salvations brings by displaying the particular work of the persons of the Trinity. In fact, it’s not just that he thinks the persons are shown to be glorious in redemption, but that they are specifically shown as glorious in a way that they are not in other works:

The attributes of God are glorious in his other works. But the three persons of the Trinity are distinctly glorified in no work as in this of redemption. In this work every distinct person has his distinct parts and offices assigned him.

In the work of salvation, Edwards thinks the works of the Trinity in the economy–the historical outward work of salvation–display in a fitting way the “distinct, personal properties, relations, and economical offices” in a way that just isn’t as clear in, say, creation. And this brings them particular glory and us a greater sense of worship each particular person.

So what does that look like? Well, it’s hard to communicate this any more elegantly or tightly than Edwards himself, so I’ll just quote him at length:

The Father appoints and provides the Redeemer, and accepts the price of redemption. The Son is the Redeemer and the price. He redeems by offering up himself. The Holy Ghost immediately communicates to us the thing purchased. Yea, and he is the good purchased. The sum of what Christ purchased for us is holiness and happiness. But the Holy Ghost is the great principle both of all holiness and happiness. The Holy Ghost is the sum of all that Christ purchased for men. Gal. 3:13, 14, “He was made a curse for us, that we might receive the promise of The Spirit, through faith.”

For Edwards, then, we have a distinct reason to depend on, praise and glorify each of the Persons: “the Father, as he provides the Redeemer, and the person of whom the purchase is made, — the Son as the purchaser, and the price, — the Holy Ghost, as the good purchased.”

Of course, we may want to be careful to run this through the recent posts by Fred Sanders and Scott Swain on the unity of divine actions of the Trinity. Nonetheless, Edwards’ careful attention to the shape of salvation and desire to explore its beauty in light of the nature and character of God in his triunity does two helpful things. First, he gives us very specific reasons to praise and worship our God. I don’t know how anybody could read that text and not simply marvel at the wisdom of our God. Second, Edwards serves as a role model for our own study of the Scriptures. In every work of God, we ought to be diligent to stop, meditate, and seek out the multi-faceted wisdom of God, and the multi-dimensional glory that pours forth from all of his mighty works.

Soli Deo Gloria

That Time Bavinck Said Edwards Helped the Pelagians

edwards 3Reading Bavinck for the last 6 months has been illuminating on several levels. Not only was he a top-notch constructive theologian and biblical thinker in his own right, but he was also an eminently historical thinker, steeped in the broad tradition from the patristic, medieval, Reformation, Post-Reformation, and modern periods. For that reason, novice that I am in these sorts of things, Bavinck has been instructive to me both in the conclusions that he comes to, but also in his historical judgments and discussions, and overall humbly critical approach to the tradition (including the Reformed) as a whole.

I was reminded of this just this last week as I was reading through his chapter on the spread of  sin, original sin, and total depravity. Right in the middle of it all, he has a little paragraph on Jonathan Edwards’ that is fascinating for it’s actual theological content, but also because of the broader point it illustrates about the Reformed tradition in general:

When we are taught that as a result of sin that humans are incapable of any good and this inability is called “natural,” this does not refer to a physical necessity or fatalistic coercion. Humans have not, as a result of sin, lost their will and their increated freedom: the will, in virtue of its nature, rules out all coercion and can only will freely. What humans have lost is the free inclination of the will toward the good. They now no longer want to do good; thy now voluntarily, by a natural inclination, do evil. The inclination, the direction, of the will has changed. “This will in us is always free but it is not always good.” In this sense the incapacity for good is not physical but ethical in nature; it is a kind of impotence of the will. Some theologians therefore preferred to speak of a moral rather than a natural impotence–Amyraut, Testard, Venema, and especially Jonathan Edwards among them.

Edwards in his day, one must remember, had to defend the moral impotence of humans against Whitby and Taylor, who denied original sin and deemed humans able to keep God’s law. They argued, against Edwards, that if humans could not keep God’s law, they did not have to, and if they did not keep it, they were not guilty. To defend himself, Edwards made a distinction between natural and moral impotence, saying that fallen humans did have the natural but not the moral power to do good. And he added that only natural impotence was real impotence, but moral impotence could only be figuratively so called. For sin is not a physical defect in nature or in the powers of the will; but it is an ethical defect, a lack of inclination towards or love for the good. Now Edwards did say that human beings could not give themselves this inclination toward the good nor change their will. In this respect he was completely on the side of Augustine and Calvin. But by his refusal to call this disinclination toward the good “natural impotence.” he fostered a lot of misunderstanding and actually aided the cause of Pelagianism.

Reformed Dogmatics Volume 3: Sin and Salvation, pp. 121-122

Again, this is a fascinating discussion on a number of levels. First, it begins to clear up a number of misconceptions about the Reformed approach to total depravity and natural inclination towards sin.

Beyond that, growing up as an American Evangelical, after Calvin you’re kind of trained to think of Jonathan Edwards as the other name when it comes to Reformed, or more likely, Calvinistic theology. In fact, it’s very easy to find a number of young, Reformed theological types who’ve never read Calvin, but have jumped head-first into Edwards’ sermons, treatises, and so forth. And I’m not really knocking that. I’ve benefited from a number of his sermons, not just Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God (although, fun fact, I briefly dated a girl in college who said her father read that to her and her sisters one Halloween), as well as his fabulous treatise on The End For Which God Created the World. Still, it’s fascinating to realize that in many wings of the Reformed family, Edwards is considered, not a bastion of classic Reformed orthodoxy, but a theological innovator who made some serious mistakes.

This also illustrates that very important point that often gets lost in popular discussions of Reformed theology, which is that the Reformed tradition is a tradition, not simply a set of standardized, universal answers. Now, by the word ‘tradition’ I’m invoking, or at least trying to invoke, the sense given by Alasdair MacIntyre, who says that “a tradition is an argument extended through time in which certain fundamental agreements are defined and redefined.” In that sense, while the broad Reformed tradition has some baseline agreements and shared assumptions that distinguish it from Lutheran and Roman Catholic traditions, that doesn’t mean that on every single issue you’re going to get all Reformed theologians speaking with one voice, or simply parroting what Calvin said. There is debate, discussion, disagreement, refinement, and redefinition. Which is why it is often-times very important recognize that simply because Calvin, or Edwards, or Bavinck, or name your favorite contemporary figure (Piper, Keller, Horton, etc.) says “this is what Reformed theology teaches”, it may be important to qualify it still further with “Puritan Reformed theology”, “Continental Reformed theology”, and so forth. And even that can be too simplistic. This is part of why I’m looking forward to Oliver Crisp’s forthcoming Deviant Calvinism, which should be illuminating on that score.

Following this point, I would hasten to add that we probably should be more careful to be so quick to rule out someone out of the Reformed tradition. I have to say, I love the way Bavinck handles Edwards’ here. While being critical, and even to the point of saying his theology ended up confusing rather than helping, Bavinck still acknowledges Edwards’ efforts here positively, and reads as charitably and contextually as possible. (The engagement between N.T. Wright and his Reformed critics come to mind here as well.) For those of us, then, still “on the way” in our theological journey, we have in Bavinck a model for how to carry on that conversation, that “argument extended through time”, with our Reformed, and yes, even non-Reformed brothers and sisters in the broader tradition.

Soli Deo Gloria

Killswitch Engage, Edwards, and the Hell Inside Us All

disarmKillswitch Engage’s new album Disarm the Descent came out this last week. I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to it already, but I know I’ve got a few hundred more to go. Needless to say, it’s text-book shredding perfection. Adam D. is a metal machine; he couldn’t produce a weak metal album if he tried. Also, for those of you worried about the loss of frontman Howard Jones (who was amazing), Jesse Leach has returned to the helm stronger than ever both vocally and lyrically. He even manages to do a pretty good job filling in for Jones on the live version of “My Curse” included in the special edition.

Now, this is isn’t a full album review. In fact, I mostly just want to call attention to Leach’s forceful lyric-writing in the opening track, “The Hell in Me.”


Now, once I stopped air-shredding and paid attention to what he was saying, I realized he was speaking of the spiritual struggle at work in us all he sings:

Fall down into the chaos
Staring into the depths of pain darkness and suffering
I will not be from this place, inside of me
Until I understand this part of me that bleeds and captures my spirit
If it’s the death of me, then I will loosen its grip.

[Chorus:]
Protect me from the hell that burns inside me
No one can see this is the hell in me
Bring light into the darkness
Awaken and stir this war within us all
Reveal my true intentions

[Chorus:]
No one can see this is the hell in me
Lead me out of the darkness
Strengthen and protect the voice that makes no sound
Suffer and bleed for me
Pulled from the hell that is in me
Set me free
Will you set me free?

Leach picks up on the very biblical image of fire, torment, and hell to speak of the way a soul is consumed from within by sin. Sin burns the spirit. Indeed, this is ultimately the darkest truth of the doctrine of hell–we carry its seeds around within ourselves. Paul testifies that the wrath of God is seen, not so much in his active judgment, but in handing us over the the darkness of our own hearts as they lust after those things which dehumanize them. (Rom 1:18-15)

In depicting our spiritual struggle this way, Leach channels the spirit of Jonathan Edwards who brilliantly laid out this truth in his (in)famous sermon “Sinners in the Hand of an Angry God”:

There are in the souls of wicked men those hellish principles reigning, that would presently kindle and flame out into hell fire, if it were not for God’s restraints. There is laid in the very nature of carnal men, a foundation for the torments of hell. There are those corrupt principles, in reigning power in them, and in full possession of them, that are seeds of hell fire. These principles are active and powerful, exceeding violent in their nature, and if it were not for the restraining hand of God upon them, they would soon break out, they would flame out after the same manner as the same corruptions, the same enmity does in the hearts of damned souls, and would beget the same torments as they do in them. The souls of the wicked are in scripture compared to the troubled sea,Isa. 57:20. For the present, God restrains their wickedness by his mighty power, as he does the raging waves of the troubled sea, saying, “Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further;” but if God should withdraw that restraining power, it would soon carry all before it. Sin is the ruin and misery of the soul; it is destructive in its nature; and if God should leave it without restraint, there would need nothing else to make the soul perfectly miserable. The corruption of the heart of man is immoderate and boundless in its fury; and while wicked men live here, it is like fire pent up by God’s restraints, whereas if it were let loose, it would set on fire the course of nature; and as the heart is now a sink of sin, so if sin was not restrained, it would immediately turn the soul into fiery oven, or a furnace of fire and brimstone. -Jonathan Edwards, Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, sec. 6

Songs like this remind me to thank God for his restraining hand. Even more, I thank God that he saw the hell in me and decided to “suffer and bleed for me”, to set me free, fully and finally from the torment of sin in Jesus Christ.

Soli Deo Gloria