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St. Francis, born in 1567 to a wealthy family, led an interesting life, the details of which are too great to expound here, but I recommend the Catholic Encyclopedia article on his life for a good recounting of the details.

Statue of St. Francis De Sales at St. Peter's Basilica

For our purposes, the most important aspect of Francis’ life and ministry was his mission to convert the Calvinists of Geneva. In 1594, a young priest at the age of 27, he volunteered to evangelize the Calvinists there.

Francis’ ministry was not well received by the Calvinists at first. In fact, most of them wouldn’t even talk to him. As such, Francis turned to the tactic of writing pamphlets that he would slip under the door of the people of the town. These tracts were later collected into a book called The Catholic Controversy that can be read in its entirety at the preceding link. Of course, what passed for a tract in those days is much more like what we would call a scholarly essay, so the book is a very meaty examination of the problems that separate Calvinists and Catholics.

Little by little, Francis gained himself a hearing among the Calvinists and eventually converted them by the thousands. His success was so great that he was later elevated to the post of Bishop of Geneva.

I have found it interesting how many converts to Catholicism from the Reformed faith have found De Sales work so compelling, even to this day. Speaking for myself, his chapter on the concept of the mission of ministers of God was one of the turning points in my own conversion.

I hope our Reformed brothers will give a hearing to this very holy man of God whose work resonates down through the centuries.

Rev. Alvin Hoksbergen, a retired minister in the Christian Reformed Church, proposes in The Banner that a major retooling of election-speak from Reformed pulpits is needed.  While making the claim that “most [Reformed] seem to have moved away from the concept of double predestination,” Rev. Hoksbergen believes that “the biblically based concept of election remains a major factor in [the Reformed] theological structure.” Reluctance to preach on election to heaven after death may follow from it being “an arrogant position that may consign good acquaintances to hell while granting heaven to only a select few.”  To solve this teaching silence, Rev. Hoksbergen proposes that Reformed pastors “shift the focus of election away from eternal bliss to the biblical concept of God calling the elect to be a blessing in the world.”  The pastor’s primary emphasis should be “on how believers are to conduct their lives,” rather than on the eternal end of the decree of election. This would allow the world to see the positive impact made on it by Calvinists.

Such a change of preaching, he believes, would bring his particular denomination (and its sister denomination, the Reformed Church in America) into partnership with the “new Calvinism” that was recently highlighted with admiration in Time magazine. But is this focus on how believers conduct their lives, over a focus on the mystery of God’s sovereign grace, Calvinism at all?  Or is it rather a turning back to pre-16th century catholic thought on the meaning of election and predestination?

In a way, Rev. Hoksbergen’s call to preachers to stress the Christian’s duties in this world is a predictable turn of events.  Double election, being based on the fixedness of God’s eternal determinations, leaves the soteriologically focused Reformed preacher only to marvel at the mystery of God’s will.  He can’t very well dwell on that topic week in and week out, year in and year out, so naturally he will turn to the likes of “how believers are to conduct their lives.” But in another way, this is an unusual turn of events, since Calvin denied the necessity of man’s cooperation in (along with any other condition on) his election to salvation.

Calvin and the confessional Reformed denominations centrally teach that God, by his sovereign grace, unconditionally chose some, and not others, from before all time to salvation.  A “new Calvinism” that leaves this position behind in favor of emphasizing the Christian’s call to bless the world is something other than Calvinism.  If it is something that wants to marvel at God’s sovereignty and grace, while calling us to holiness and leaving room for debate on the conditions or rigidity of election, then it is far closer to the catholic position on election and predestination that existed before Calvin taught.  In that sense, Rev. Hoksbergen is actually calling Reformed pastors to preach in the way of Roman priests prior to the Reformation.

Stellman writes:

The options, as I see them, are as follows: confessional denominations like the PCA [Presbyterian Church in America] ]can either (1) broaden our theological parameters to make room for someone who can make a case that his theology is biblically plausible, or (2) we can insist that our ministers at times must avoid speaking the Bible’s language for fear of muddying the systematic waters.

And I must say, I’m not completely thrilled about either of those choices (but then, who ever said being confessional would be easy?).

I find this fascinating. Would it be accurate say that there is a built-in tension in magisterial Protestant traditions since the magisterial documents (WCF, Belgic Conf, 39 Articles, etc.) are considered fallible interpretations of the infallible Scriptures?

It’s almost like multiplying a positive number times a negative number – you always get a negative product. No matter how big your positive number, the negative number always yields a negative product. If you have a fallible document interpreting an infallible document, the produce will always be fallible. Hence, the built-in tension of magisterial Protestantism.

With Catholicism you get an infallible interpretation of an infallible document. It’s like multiplying a positive number by positive number. The answer is always positive. As Hannibal from the A-Team says: “I love it when a plan comes together!“

Flannery O’Conner once remarked at a dinner party concerning the Holy Eucharist:

“Well, if it’s a symbol, to hell with it.”

Perhaps we might say the same about any magisterial tradition without the claim of infallibility:

“Well, if confessionalism relies on a fallible magisterium, to hell with it.”

Thomas Aquinas makes a similar argument in Summa theologiae I, q. 23, a. 5. First, Thomas refutes three versions of predestination in light of God’s foreknowledge of human merit. The first he identifies with Origen, namely that souls pre-merited their final states before becoming embodied in time. The second he identifies with the Pelagian error holding that good begins within us and receives its consummation in grace by God. Both theories of predestination are incorrect according to Thomas because each confuses the order of causality. The final cause is always prior in the order of execution and not conditional on intermediary causes. A third option is put forth and also rejected, namely that God gives grace to those whom he knows will rightly use it. This seems less Pelagian, but this theory also places the cause of salvation in us and not in God. Here also grace fails to be grace.

Before appealing to God’s will, Thomas secures the goodness of God by appealing to his previous understanding of providence as it relates to primary and secondary causes (I, q. 22, a. 3). Free will is a secondary cause flowing out from predestination. This distinction ensures that God is not the direct cause of murder or final damnation. This is where Calvin departs from Saint Thomas. In chapter 23 of Book III of the Institutes, Calvin seems to deny the distinction between primary and secondary causation. Calvin mocks those who want to wedge in the claim that the wicked perish by the permission of God and not by the will of God. “The first man fell because the Lord deemed it meet that he should: why he deemed it meet, we know not.”  Calvin then asserts: “It is certain, however, that it was just, because he saw that his own glory would thereby be displayed.”  It seems contrary to justice, but Calvin confirms the decree to sin was just because God obviously cannot be unjust. This argument is circular and rather unsatisfying.
Compare Calvin to Saint Thomas Aquinas. In his reply to the third objection (I, q. 23, a. 5, ad. 3), Thomas states: “The reason for the predestination of some, and reprobation of others, must be sought for in the goodness of God.” Thomas centers his discussion of predestination on God’s goodness. Appealing back to his discussion on divine providence, Thomas writes: “God allows some evils, lest many good things should never happen, as was said above” (i.e. I, q. 22, a. 2).

I still find Thomas’ solution somewhat troubling, but it does seem to track with Pauline passages that discuss election and predestination. It is troubling because it seems to indicate that God loves more than others. The now deceased priest and theologian Rev. William Most recently proposed a modified Thomistic solution. Most suggested the following logical order in the decree of God’s predestination. First, God wills all to be saved (1 Tim 2:4). Next, God foresees only those who will reject grace persistently and finally. Third, he predestinates all those not in this number to final glory. The beauty of this solution is that God does not predestinate the elect for their own foreseen merits and only damns the reprobate for their sins and their rejection of grace. No one is chosen because he would have done anything of merit. The predestinate are still predestined ante proevisa merita. The decree of predestination is negative with respect to the final state of the predestinate. I find this opinion a bit more satisfying, because it protects the Thomistic emphasis on the gratuity of grace. The predestinate are not strictly chosen for anything they have done. Rather, the elect are predestinate because they are not reprobate. God only foresees the demerits of the damned and then makes his decision based on his own standard of justice. We might even say that the predestinate are chosen only because of God’s goodness, as He is under no obligation to save them since they are sinners. Thomas does not entertain this objection, nor does he offer it as a solution. I wonder whether he would have found it compelling.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on Father Most’s position or on the distinctions made by Thomas Aquinas and/or John Calvin.

Follow Taylor Marshall @TaylorRMarshall or visit his blog at www.taylormarshall.com

17th century Calvinism became increasingly focused on predestination and “eternal decrees” – much more so than John Calvin himself had been. I think it is safe to say that Calvin presented soteriology in a more Christological way than his later followers. Later Calvinism pushed the locus of salvation out of history and into the Godhead. This also led to a fully articulated doctrine of limited atonement (i.e. that Christ’s atoning death was only accomplished for the elect and not all mankind). This “decretal” perspective also diminished the role of the sacraments in the Calvinistic tradition. Unconcerned with questions about predestination, Lutheranism was disinterested or hostile to growing influence of covenantal theology in continential Calvinism. By the 17th century, covenant or federal theology was being called the “marrow of theology” by Reformed theologians.

The Federal Theology of Cocceius
The focus on salvation arising from eternal decrees and not from redemptive history led to the development of a late medieval notion of the pactum. Dutch Calvinist theologian John Cocceius taught that God the Father and God the Son entered into a eternal pactum by which Christ agreed to be testator of an eternal testamentum. History is thus divided into two covenantal eras: the covenant of works (foedus operum) and the covenant of grace (foedus gratiae). The covenant of works is the time before the Fall of Adam. The covenant of grace is the era of redemption in which the eternal pactum is anticipated by the Old Testament and executed in history by Christ.

The Federal Theology of Amyraut
Moses Amyraut (father of Amyraldianism or what is called “four point Calvinism”) was also a Dutch Calvinist of the 17th century. He put forth a competing covenant theology that was also triplex. However, Amyraut put forth three historical covenants corresponding to redemptive history. This model is historical, less esoteric, and more Catholic. He posited the foedus naturale (from Adam to Moses), the foedus legale (from Moses to Christ), and the foedus gratiae (from Christ forward). Anyone familiar with Thomas Aquinas’ treatment of the law will notice that this basically follows the triplex model of Thomas: Natural Law, Old Law, New Law.

It was however the model of Cocceius that won the day. The covenant theology of Cocceius was enshrined in the Westminster Confession of Faith as the Covenant of Redemption (pactum salutis), the Covenant of Works (foedus operum), and the Covenant of Grace (foedus gratiae).

What Does This Mean for Catholic Theology?
Nothing really. However, we can see in these models a failure to appreciate the ecclesial and familial language of Sacred Scripture. Covenantal theology of 17th century Calvinism is heavily contractual. Calvinists rightly gravitated toward the biblical model of the covenant but they filled it with their forensic presuppositions of extrinsic righteousness and legal, courtroom imagery. The Catholic Church, while not possessing an advanced “covenant theology”, has maintained the substance of what a covenant is – a unitive bond that creates a real ontological or familial union between God and man and man and man.

Taylor Marshall also writes at his personal blog Canterbury Tales.