I know I have a reputation for being somewhat of a Calvinist. I’m amused by it. I was raised a Baptist. Not “Southern,” “Independent,” “American,” or any other variation—just Baptist. I never read Calvin. I never heard of the “Reformed faith.” Just your vanilla Christian. I was raised in the church, taught the Bible, urged to memorize Scripture. I went to Christian school from kindergarten through eighth grade and was in church—a lot. I believed you were a Christian when you put your faith in Jesus, and I and all of my siblings did that at a young age. I had heard about those “Calvinists” and “Arminians.” Since “Arminians” believed you could lose your salvation and I didn’t, I concluded I was a “Calvinist.” Imagine my surprise when I discovered I was a “one point Calvinist.” To be accurate, a “half point Calvinist.”
It was in my late thirties that I started hearing R.C. Sproul. He wasn’t focusing on Reformed theology; he was focusing on the holiness of God, and it was amazing stuff. I was an elder in my church, and I was talking to my pastor about it, and he warned me: “Watch out! That guy is a Calvinist.” I was confused. I was, too, right? Actually, no. So it wasn't Sproul that led me here, even if he contributed later.
I had my daily devotions—“QTs,” we called them—and I was in the ever-popular Gospel of John and read, “But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name” (John 1:12). There, see? When we accept Jesus, we become His children. Wait… no… that’s not what it says. We don’t “accept” Him. That sounds active: “I give Him my acceptance. I approve.” No, this is more passive—like a tight end receiving a pass. It just comes to you. Practically hits you. You don’t ask for it. You just receive it.
But maybe I’m being overanalytical. Then I read the rest of the sentence, and it clarified: “who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God” (John 1:13). I did not see that coming. It says explicitly we aren’t born into it, we don’t work for it, we don’t choose it. We receive it—passively—as a work of God at the will of God alone.
Suddenly it appeared all over (e.g., Rom 9:6–8; Gal 3:7; John 8:39–47; Rom 9:16; John 3:6; John 6:63; Eph 2:1–5; 1 Cor 3:6–7; James 1:18; 1 Pet 1:23; John 3:3–8; Ezek 36:26–27; Titus 3:5; 1 John 5:1). It was everywhere—Old Testament and New. And more piled on. If we’re “dead in sin,” as Paul says in Ephesians 2, how do we choose Christ? Dead people don’t do that. If we can’t understand spiritual things in the flesh (1 Cor 2:14), how do we understand? If the reason we don’t believe is because we aren’t His sheep (John 10:26), don’t we need to be His sheep before we arrive at faith? If there is none righteous and none good (Rom 3:10–12), in what sense can we be righteous or good? If we are saved by grace through faith apart from works (Eph 2:8–9), wouldn’t coming in faith be a work that saves? If “no one can” come to Christ “unless” (John 6:44, 64–65), doesn’t that “unless” have to be met prior to coming? I wrestled with this and more for a long time.
Eventually I was dragged—practically kicking and screaming—by the weight of Scripture into this ridiculous position. We are radically depraved (Gen 8:21; Rom 3:10–12; Eph 2:1–3), chosen apart from anything in us (Eph 1:4–5; Rom 9:11–16; Acts 13:48), forgiven by Christ’s blood specifically and completely (John 10:11–15; John 17:9; Eph 5:25), drawn to Him irresistibly (John 6:37; Rom 8:30; Ezek 36:26–27), and saved eternally by God (John 10:27–29; Php 1:6; Jude 1:24; Rom 8:28–39). (Note: that’s merely a sample of the passages I’ve had to deal with.) My “ridiculous position” wasn’t taught to me in my youth. It wasn’t assigned to me by teachers or theologians. It was fed to me—gagging and choking sometimes—by God’s Word. Like Martin Luther, I ended up here: “Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason, I am bound by the Scriptures, and my conscience is captive to the Word of God.”
It was only as I embraced God’s Word as it was presented to me that I ended up with this incredible tapestry of God’s holiness and sovereignty and faithfulness over my every attempt at rebellion and failure. I ended up with peace and joy and love I never even dreamed of. I know lots of genuine, Bible believing Christians who disagree with me, and I don’t find it an issue to divide over. I respect them even as we disagree on these points. But I’m not really a Calvinist. I’ve never even read him. I’m a biblicist. I’m just glad that other teachers and theologians—and Calvin—agree with me on this. When God reveals my error, I’ll gladly change it, but until then …
5 comments:
We have terms that we use for shorthand that are clunky and incomplete, because they are shorthand. But they are necessary for showing quickly what we think. If all you could say was that you are a "Bible-believing Christian", there is a vast range of groups and theologies that might not agree with you. It ranges from people that say the Bible contains the words of God to King James Only. So we must dive down. We have Protestant (or Evangelical) and Catholic and Mormon and Jehovah's Witnesses and flavors innumerable of "Christian", that more specifically identify certain beliefs. So when you or I say we're a Calvinist, the wrong idea is to think we are followers of Calvin, just like it would be wrong to think an Arminian is a follower of Arminius (in fact most of them don't even know what he taught, only that he opposed Calvin). But should we do away with a term because people misunderstand it? The other option is to carry around a manifesto or confession to hand to someone explaining your theological positions. I understand the desire to separate ourselves between the actual term and the misunderstood term. But we live in a limited time world that doesn't give us the freedom to expound our position every time to its fullest with every person we talk with. So I'll cringe when identifying myself as a Calvinist, but only because I know it's their misunderstanding of what he believed and where he got his beliefs.
I was glad to read this account of your evolution from “vanilla Christian” to the more mature “biblicist.” Of course, all believers should be biblicists and “study to show yourself approved unto God, a workman that need not be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth” (2 Tim. 2:15). Your experience substantiates my observation that one cannot put any merit in declarations such as “I was raised in the church, taught the Bible, urged to memorize Scripture,” since that statement could be made just as truthfully by a person growing up within a cult as by one I would consider possessing sound doctrine--and many people in-between. There are, of course, good churches and bad churches, good Bible teaching and bad Bible teaching, and good Bible translations and bad Bible translations, so nothing can be known for certain by such a statement. (There are even good Baptist churches and bad Baptist churches, of course.)
Having said this, I believe I understand your experience, and I can relate, as my knowledge and understanding of God’s Word also surely evolved from the days of my youth. In addition to R.C. Sproul’s teaching, a major influence on me in this area was John Piper’s book, Finally Alive: What Happens When We Are Born Again. From it I learned that the order of conversion--regeneration by the Holy Spirit bestows one the faith to proclaim Christ as Lord and Savior--was in reverse from what I had always believed--a proclamation of faith causes the new birth. This teaching was validated by numerous Scriptures, as you pointed out, so it became my new understanding going forward.
I know lots of genuine, Bible believing Christians who disagree with me, and I don’t find it an issue to divide over.
Unlike you, I do. To me, the doctrines you mentioned in your sixth paragraph (which I recognized as “the Doctrines of Grace,” of course) are core teachings from Scripture pertaining to God’s nature and actions and man’s nature and actions; I believe it is my obligation as a Bible student, possessor of a biblical faith, and lover of God’s Word to hold only the biblical position on things and to genuinely grieve over those in error. (I guess I am a stickler that way.)
Lorna, by "divide over" I mean "divide" as in "cut off communication and relationship, consider heretical--possibly not saved--put out of the church" kind of "divide." I gladly discuss and examine these things with anyone point out (as I have here) how it's biblical and reasonable. I don't nod and say, "Well, sure, whatever." I stand here because of Scripture. But I don't view those who disagree on these points as hostile to God or the Word ... enemies. That was what I meant by "divide." I can still fellowship with them in good faith.
Absolutely, the shorthand terms are convenient but problematic. The fact that I agree with Calvin on some issues, because Scripture and Calvin align, doesn't mean that Calvin is my authority. Scripture is. Likewise, I will identify as Reformed when asked about my theological/denominational beliefs. It's not perfect, but it's what we are stuck with.
I understand how you mean it; I just can’t do it, that’s all.
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