John Calvin on Religion and Morality

I’ve been wondering about this connection—especially since reading some difficult sections of 1 John1—and I’m glad Calvin is here to clear it up for me:

Surely the first foundation of righteousness is the worship of God. When this is overthrown, all the remaining parts of righteousness, like the pieces of a shattered and fallen building, are mangled and scattered. What kind of righteousness will you call it not to harass men with theft and plundering, if through impious sacrilege you at the same time deprive God’s majesty of its glory? Or that you do not defile your body with fornication, if with your blasphemies you profane God’s most holy name? Or that you do not slay a man, if you strive to kill and to quench the remembrance of God? It is vain to cry up righteousness without religion. This is as unreasonable as to display a mutilated, decapitated body as something beautiful. Not only is religion the chief part but the very soul, whereby the whole breathes and thrives. And apart from the fear of God men do not preserve equity and love among themselves. Therefore we call the worship of God the beginning and foundation of righteousness. (Institutes, 2.8.11)

1“If you know that he is righteous, you know that everyone who does what is right has been born of him” (1 John 2:29). “Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God” (1 John 4:7). “Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ is born of God” (1 John 5:1).

Life-Giving Morality

It seems like an oxymoron, because morality is immediately perceived simply as a collection of “don’t” statements. But morality is really about allowing the life-giving presence of God to emerge in the midst of our life together. What follows is a beautiful quote from the bizarrely titled Womanpriest, by Alla Bozarth:

Morality in the Christian community flows spontaneously out of a shared perception of Christ’s love. It is a shared attitude of desire for the common good, an attitude of well-wishing toward life so forceful that it shapes the good it intends. Genuine morality is the actualized overflow of the love of Christ into the world; it is an acted yearning for the wholeness and well-being of others. It is, finally, a mutual empowerment toward wholeness in creation.

The source of this quote is a blog titled “Even the Devils Believe.” The article is found here.

John Calvin on Truth

I knew Rob Bell believed that “all truth is God’s truth.” I didn’t, however, expect to find it in Calvin:

If we regard the Spirit of God as the sole fountain of truth, we shall neither reject the truth itself, nor despise it wherever it shall appear, unless we wish to dishonour the Spirit of God. For by holding the gifts of the Spirit in slight esteem, we contemn and reproach the Spirit himself. What then? Shall we deny that the truth shone upon the ancient jurists who established civic order and discipline with such great equity? Shall we say that the philosophers were blind in their fine observation and artful description of nature? Shall we say that those men were devoid of understanding who conceived the art of disputation and taught us to speak reasonably? Shall we say that they are insane who developed medicine, devoting their labour to our benefit? What shall we say of all the mathematical sciences? Shall we consider them the ravings of madmen? No, we cannot read the writings of the ancients on these subjects without great admiration. We marvel at them because we are compelled to recognize how preeminent they are. But shall we count anything praiseworthy or noble without recognizing at the same time that it comes from God? (Institutes, 2.2.15)

 

On Pilgrimage: Mennonite

Starbucks. Dasani. SilverCity. BMW. Suburban. Privilege. Nothing one traditionally associates with Mennonites. Yet The Meeting House, a Brethren in Christ church, is one of the quickest growing churches in North America. That, of course, has nothing to do with ecumenical work, but The Meeting House does bear two ecumenically-significant qualities: a commitment to biblical teaching and ecclesial flexibility.

Now, I’m envisioning biblical teaching in a different sense than, perhaps, my Reformed friends might. Bruxy Cavey doesn’t tend to pump out hour-long lectures drawing on heavy Greek and Hebrew exegesis—though I’m sure he has the ability. Instead, Bruxy pays firm attention to context and narrative. Bruxy is one of the increasing number of people recognizing that Jesus was, in fact, Jewish. Jesus taught people with a Jewish mindset, attended Jewish synagogue, read from the Jewish Scriptures, and discussed the Jewish religion with Jewish religious authorities. Knowing this affects how one interprets Jesus. Bruxy knows this.

Bruxy also has the delightful tendency of teaching on long narratives, rather than picking and choosing from Word-of-the-Day style fragments. This sort of teaching brings the understanding that the Scriptures are not primarily aphorisms or fortune cookie statements, but are narratives of the history of God’s business with humanity. The Bible is made up largely of histories. Rather than just teaching on the cushy part in the middle, Bruxy draws us into the whole story—a healthy alternative.

Along with this solid method of biblical teaching, The Meeting House is flexible. Its set-up isn’t set in stone, “the only valid structure” or “this is the way the apostles did it.” They are open to new possibilities, new forms and ways of “doing church.” They understand, perhaps intuitively, that the church is simply ekklesia, a gathering or assembly of the people. This openness and flexibility provides a helpful model for future attempts at faithfulness to God’s purposes.

Even though The Meeting House is sans horse and buggy as well as neat bonnets, it does bear the marks of that radical branch of the Reformation: a commitment to hearing God through Scripture and to the new community formed by God’s Spirit. These are qualities no truly ecumenical movement ought to be without.

Ecumenical Pilgrimage:
III: The Meeting House
II: Wentworth Baptist
I: The Freeway
Introduction

Rules

Why do we have them? While talking with five-year-olds, I thought of four good reasons:

  1. To keep us safe. Rules keep us from harm. We look both ways before looking, pass scissors by the handle and don’t play with matches.
  2. To help each other out. We clean up our toys, do the dishes and take out the trash to make life a bit easier on our parents.
  3. To make things fair. Rules level the playing field. We can’t cheat on tests, have more cookies than the other kid or fail to file tax returns.
  4. To keep everyone happy. Sometimes we make each other unhappy. Thus, we have rules against being mean, calling one another names or excluding the kid who’s a bit different.

These four categories apply to more important and serious laws that citizens and even nations must obey. There may be one or more other categories as well. All of these reasons for creating rules have at their base a concern for the preservation of life—life meaning not just breathing and brain function, but fulfillment, peace and happiness.