Skip to main content

Calvin on Participation in Christ

In his fascinating work, Calvin, Participation, and the Gift: The Activity of Believers in Union with Christ,[1] J. Todd Billings sheds light on Calvin’s eclectively developed (yet speculatively restrained) metaphysic that structures his understanding of a believer’s union with God. In so doing, Billings dispels contemporary critics (Radical Orthodoxy ‘Gift’ theologians) who claim that Calvin’s theology was heavily influenced by late medieval ‘nominalist’ tendencies. Gift-giving specialists adopt the metaphor as a framework for “the relation of divine giving (in creation and redemption) and human giving (self-giving love)”(2). And according to ‘Gift’ theologians, the place of unilateral sovereignty in the Reformed tradition—with Calvin as the poster child—has eradicated any type of active (gift-giving) role in man’s relationship with God (and with that, a believer’s communion with Christ—the “en Christo” hallmark of Pauline theology). From Calvin’s account (not according to Calvin), God is a unilateral gift-giver, which “evacuates human agency as it claims the receiver”(2).[2]

Through rigorous examination of Calvin’s writings, Billings elucidates Calvin’s doctrine of participation, showing that it is firmly grounded in exegesis, particularly the book of Romans, and through his reading of the church fathers. Images of participation, adoption, and engrafting are all brought together to develop a theology of koinonia that extends beyond fellowship—rather a real metaphysical union with Christ. And Calvin’s doctrine of participation, so well outlined through Billings’ meticulous mining of Calvin, is the focal point of this piece.

In chapter 2 of his work, Billings’ outlines the context of Calvin’s doctrine of participation by tracing out Calvin’s own development of it through his various editions of the Institutes and his commentaries. Patristic writers Irenaeus, Augustine, and Cyril are strong support figures, as Calvin looks to them in his appropriation of terms and metaphors employed in his theology. A key work where Calvin introduces the Aristotelian distinctions of substance and accidents into his anthropology,[3] which we do not find in his Institutes, is in his, The Bondage and Liberation of the Will.[4] Calvin adopts these distinctions to develop his understanding of man’s union with God in original creation (46). Calvin deploys substance to classify the pre-Fall Adam’s state, whereby humanity is originally created good by God and is united to God. And then in the Fall, humanity is corrupted, which Calvin utilizes the distinction accidental to speak of this corruption, which remains with the believer during his life on earth but will diminish as he is being perfected and restored to a pre-Fall state.

The Pauline term “old self,” referring to the “flesh,” which a new creation in Christ dies to, “is a mortification of the sinful desires which corrupt the good creation in Adam” (47). The telos of redemption is to return to the ‘good’ substance of human nature. The ‘good will’ of humanity is activated when a believer is united to God by the Spirit. And this union, Calvin considers, is real.[5] In order for a human to do a good action, one must be fundamentally united to God (48). And for Calvin, this is the ‘gift’ of faith, in order to sanctify believers. And this gift is a pay-it-forward gift (which should appease the ‘Gift’ theologians), whereby the believer voluntarily acts in gifting God’s love towards others. But this is where Calvin gets chided due to his ‘nominalist’ tendencies (which, as Billings’ notes, is an over exaggeration). How can Calvin speak of human voluntary acts when they only occur because of the work of the Spirit? Well, such actions are human actions, but the Spirit deserves the praise because he has freed and empowered a believer’s will to carry them out. The Spirit doesn’t bypass man’s faculties; rather, he “renews a right spirit in their inner nature.”[6] Clarifying Irenaeus’ redemptive theology, Calvin adopts substance-accident language to express the real connection between Christ and humanity, whereby the Second Adam restores creation (i.e., the union man had with God) (49).

To advance further his real-connection motif, Calvin appropriates Cyril’s eucharistic theology, whereby “the flesh of Christ is ‘life-giving,’ ‘pervaded with the fullness of life,’ and then ‘transmitted to us’ in the Lord’s Supper” (50).[7] Calvin was indebted to Cyril’s concept of vivification in the Eucharist, in that the flesh of Christ—his substance—is vivified through the Spirit, nourishing the souls of believers. The elements do not become his physical body; rather, the Spirit, as agent, manifests the spiritual body—substance—of Christ in the hearts and minds of those partaking in the Supper, elevating them to the heavenly kingdom of God (50).

Crucial to Calvin’s theology of participation, adoption, and engrafting is Paul’s letter to the Romans. For Calvin, Romans is the loci of Christian theology; it is the window to the mysteries of God. From Romans 6:1–11, Calvin puts forth his theme of union in Christ, as identified in his death (thus our death) and his resurrection (thus our resurrection). In Romans 8:12–17 and 26–7, Calvin underscores the communion element of access that we as adopted children have to God. And in 11:17–19, Calvin’s preferred metaphor of “engrafting” redeemed creatures to God by faith, together (with the previous passages) culminate in “a collage of mutually illuminating images” (51). The telos of Calvin’s doctrine of union with Christ is that of Trinitarian union with God, in which all believers participate, not only in the benefits of God’s grace but in God himself (52).[8] Redeemed humanity’s union with God is real in that it takes place in Christ. The final end of the gospel is ‘to render us eventually conformable to God, and, if we may so speak, to deify us’(53).[9]

Deification, if not clarified correctly, can place a classical theologian in exile. And Calvin is under enough scrutiny as it is. For Calvin, deification is not ontological enhancement. His view is soteriological, in that the union between man and God is transformative (i.e., communication of idioms), whereby through Christ believers are incorporated into the Triune life of God. Following an Antiochene tradition, the language of deification then is hyperbole; it is a per se-ism (54–5).[10] Calvin’s doctrine of deification is catholic, in that he maintains the Creator-creature distinction; however, his understanding of participation is not mere but a real substantial participation (61). In this manner, believers receive this participation through grace, “which brings about the death of the ‘depravity of our flesh’ along with a ‘resurrection to a better nature within us’”(61).[11] And here is where the real participatory element of Calvin’s theology emerges:

There is great force in this word [engrafted], and it clearly shows, that the Apostle does not exhort, but rather teach us what benefit we derive from Christ; for he requires nothing from us, which is to be done by our attention and diligence but speaks of the grafting made by the hand of God. But there is no reason why you should seek to apply the metaphor or comparison in every particular; for between the grafting of trees, and this which is spiritual, a disparity will soon meet us: in the former the graft draws its aliment from the root but retains its own nature in the fruit; but in the latter not only we derive the vigor and nourishment of life from Christ, but we also pass from our own to his nature.[12] (62) 

Billings’ designation of Calvin’s theology as substantial participation, is, as he admits, a departure from other Calvin commentators. However, Billings holds his ground because he is keen to Calvin’s thinking, not Calvin’s critics who understand substance as the “inflowing or transfusion of a substance” (63). Rather, as Billings’ writes: “For Calvin, union with Christ is always mediated by the Spirit, and participation in Christ is not simply participation in his divinity, but also in his humanity. Indeed, Calvin does not hesitate to speak about participating in the substance of Christ; moreover, Calvin sometimes speaks of union with Christ making believers in Christ into ‘one substance.’ In these examples, Calvin is not avoiding terms which have ontological implications” (63). Calvin’s nuanced doctrine of participation is Triune, in that a believer is brought into union with Christ through the Spirit, thus it is an ontic relationship. God does not infuse his divine essence into a creature; rather, it is an immediate working of the Divine Essence, whereby a believer is made one with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Triune God brings creatures into a perichoretic-like activity with himself. And in so doing, we “do not follow Christ at a distance; [we] follow Christ by partaking of Christ along the Christian path of death, resurrection, and ascension—living en Christo”(65).

Conclusion

There is much more to undertake in Billings’ exposition, and I have passed over Billings’ other avenues of exploration in order to keep my post brief. I want to save it for the first-hand reader to mine for himself. Like I said, it is a fascinating work of scholarship. I am very complimentary of Billings’ work because he has expounded an area of Reformed studies that is desperately needed in contemporary theology—the relational side of Reformed classical theism that is overlooked by its critics. A doctrine of unilateral divine sovereignty has become a deleterious phrase, leading to a religious me-too movement that looks down on a theology that holds such views of God. Billings’ work helps close the gap on a view of God that seems to only emphasize his transcendence. Billings’ (thus Calvin’s) exposition promotes a balanced (Reformed) view of Calvin’s God of the Bible, one who is completely transcendent yet fully immanent to his children.


~ Romans 11:36

___________________________________
[1] J. Todd Billings, Calvin, Participation, and the Gift: The Activity of Believers in Union with Christ, 1st ed. (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2008). All page numbers will be parenthetically noted in the body of the essay.
[2] I am not going to devote attention to this aspect of Billings’ work, though it is important to the full scope of his thesis.
[3] The term substance refers to what something is to be what it is. An accident is an addition or property added to a substance, yet it is not required or necessary for the substance to be what it is. For example, a man is a human substance (essence or nature are more appropriate terms). A man can have red hair or brown hair, which would be considered an accident because his “human” substance does not require a certain color hair (or any hair for that matter) in order to be human. Otherwise, there would be many men losing their “humanness” (or manliness) when they reach their 40s.
[4] John Calvin, The Bondage and Liberation of the Will: A Defence of the Orthodox Doctrine of Human Choice against Pighius, ed. A. N. S. Lane, trans. G. I. Davies (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2002).
[5] As we will see later, real for Calvin is ontological.
[6] Calvin, The Bondage and Liberation of the Will, 193–94.
[7] John Calvin, Calvin: Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1960), 4.17.9. It is interesting to see the parallels Calvin has with Augustine in developing his views of participation, in that Augustine came over from the dark side (Manichaeism) after adopting a platonic understanding of substance. Doing so allowed him to see God as a real spiritual thing and not a physical/material thing, which cornered Manichaeism into a dualist ontology. It was perplexing for Augustine to understand how God could be omnipresent if he is a material being; spiritual substance was the key to unlock that door.
[8] Ibid., 3.2.24.
[9] John Calvin, Commentaries on the Catholic Epistles: 1 Peter, 1 John, James, 2 Peter, Jude, ed. and trans. John Owen (Bellingham, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 2010), 2 Pet. 1:4.
[10] Calvin’s participation doctrine aroused controversy in his time, on which Billings elaborates in detail.
[11] John Calvin, Commentary on the Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Romans, trans. John Owen (Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2010), 221.
[12] Ibid., 223.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Gregory of Nyssa: Trinity–Not Tri-deity

Gregory, a bishop of Nyssa in 371, was part of the Cappadocian trio, and was instrumental in the development of Trinitarian orthodoxy. His theological prowess proved vital in response to the Arian and Sabellian heresies. Key to Gregory’s theology we find “an emergence of a pro-Nicene ‘grammar’ of divinity through his developed account of divine power,” [1] conceived through a nature-power-activity formulation revealed in the created order and articulated in Scripture. Understanding the Triune God in this manner afforded a conception of the Trinity that was logical and thoroughly biblical. And this letter is paradigmatic on Gregory’s account of the divine nature. (* This article was later published with Credo Magazine, titled, “ The Grammar of Divinity (On Theology). ” See link below) To Ablabius, though short, is a polemical address whereby Gregory lays out a complex argument in response to the claim that three Divine Persons equal three gods. Basically put, Ablabius (his opponent,

St. John Chrysostom — for God is simple

Below is part of the introductory section to my exposition of John Chrysostom’s doctrine of God. I posted it because I thought it was fascinating to find such an important theologian known for avoiding (even having a disdain of) speculative theology refer to the classical doctrine of divine simplicity as common place in his thoroughly biblical doctrine of God. Toward the end I include a link to my full exposition. John Chrysostom (ca. 347–407) was the archbishop of Constantinople. Being the most prolific of all the Eastern fathers, he fought against the ecclesiastical and political leaders for their abuse of authority. He was called Chrysostom (meaning “golden-mouthed”) for his eloquent sermons. [1] This most distinguished of Greek patristic preachers excelled in spiritual and moral application in the Antiochene tradition of literal exegesis, largely disinterested, even untutored in speculative and controversial theology. [2] On the Incomprehensible Nature of G

John 17:3 – Eternal Life is Knowing God and Christ–the One, True God

    John 17:1–5. “ Jesus spoke these things, looked up to heaven, and said, “Father, the hour has come. Glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you gave him authority over all people, so that he may give eternal life to everyone you have given him. This is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and the one you have sent—Jesus Christ. I have glorified you on the earth by completing the work you gave me to do. Now, Father, glorify me in your presence with that glory I had with you before the world existed .”

A Brief Exposition of Augustine's Doctrine of Divine Immutability

To much of the Western world, Augustine has no rival. He is the preeminent—uninspired—theologian of the Christian faith. When reading the titans of the church—i.e., Aquinas, Luther, and Calvin—Augustine’s theology and ideas are voluminously parroted all throughout their writings. His influence is unparalleled. Even the secular world sees Augustine as a mammoth figure in the shaping of human history. And its Augustine’s doctrine of God we will divert our attention to, looking specifically at his articulation of divine immutability Augustine’s doctrine of God is classical, through and through. He writes, “There is One invisible, from whom, as the Creator and First Cause, all things seen by us derive their being: He is supreme, eternal, unchangeable, and comprehensible by none save Himself alone” ( Ep . 232.5).[1] When reading his works, the doctrine of immutability is paramount, coming forth repeatedly. For Augustine, immutability, or God’s unchangeableness, is consequential

Gregory of Nazianzus: The Trinity - Not a Collection of Elements

Gregory of Nazianzus   One of the Cappadocian fathers, Gregory of Nazianzus (c.330–389), given the title, “The Theologian,” was instrumental in the development of the doctrine of the Trinity, specifically the distinct terms to describe the Persons of the Godhead (Unbegotten, eternally begotten, and procession). Gregory’s main contribution to the development of Christology was in his opposition to Apollinarius. He argued that when Adam fell, all of humanity fell in him; therefore, that fallen nature must be fully united to the Son—body, soul, and mind; ‘for the unassumed is the unhealed’.   Gregory’s Doctrine of the Trinity His clearest statement on the Trinity is found in his Oration 25.15–18. Oration 25 is part of a series of sermons delivered in 380. As a gesture of gratitude, Gregory dedicates Oration 25 to Christian philosopher Maximus the Cynic, as a sort of ‘charge’ for him to push forward and remain strong in the orthodox teachings of the faith. And these sections are that or

Isaiah 45:7 - “ . . . I make peace, and create evil.” — Does God create evil?

My daughter watched a video this morning where a deconstructionist, an ex vangelical, was attempting to profane the goodness of God, by pointing out that Isaiah 45:7 says God creates evil. She was referring to the KJV version of this passage which says, “I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things.” So, what do we do with that? Below is a brief response. Proper biblical interpretation considers context when seeking the meaning of a passage. Furthermore, when it comes to difficult or obscure passages, a helpful rule of interpretation is to look to the plainer passages of the Bible and draw examples from them to shed light on the more obscure passages ( thanks Augustine ). We let Scripture interpret Scripture. The point is to remove all hesitation on doubtful passages. So, in this passage, on the face it seems to imply that God creates evil, thus making God evil. But is that what the Bible teaches about God? The plainer passages te

Clement of Alexandria: Nuances of the Classical God

Clement of Alexandria (c. 150–c. 215) was the head of the Catechetical School of Alexandria (c. 190), and the teacher of Origen. Concerned that Christianity is not seen as an unsophisticated religion, Clement sought to reconcile his faith with the best of Greek philosophy, specifically in the usefulness of Middle Platonism.[1] He believed that the kernels of truth found in Plato and Greek Philosophy were preparatory for the Gentiles in leading them to Christ, just as the Law was a guide or guardian for the Hebrews. Clement’s esoteric exegesis and speculative theology emphasized a higher knowledge, but this knowledge was obtained only through the Logos.

Ambrose: A Nicene Defense of Jesus Not Knowing the Day or the Hour ~ Mark 13:32

Ambrose (c. 339–397), was Bishop of Milan (northern Italy). His name is familiar to many because of Augustine, in that it was through Ambrose’s preaching that Augustine was saved by the gospel. Ambrose was a rigorous exponent of Nicene orthodoxy, and as with his other contemporaries, he was an ardent opponent against Arianism. His works, therefore, were aimed at refuting Arian heresy, paying special attention to the exposition and defense of the divinity of Christ and the Trinity. In his most prominent work, The Exposition of the Christian Faith (abbr. De fide ), Ambrose makes a lucid, scripturally saturated articulation of the Christian faith couched in Nicene orthodoxy. De fide is devoted to proving the full divinity of Christ, co-equal in substance, wisdom, power, and glory as God the Father, derived through elucidating the plain sense of the text. Ambrose’s aim is polemical and apologetic, addressing and refuting objections from the Arians. This post will ex

Origen: How is the Son the Invisible Image of the Invisible God?

Early Church Father Origen of Alexandria (c. 185–c. 254), considered the “greatest theological luminary of his age,” [1] his prolific writings amassed to some six thousand works. While his exegetical contribution to the formulation of Christian doctrine greatly shaped the theology of the fourth century, he is also a controversial fellow. Nevertheless, it is important that when we read such figures writing theology in the nascent stages of the Christian Faith, we must do our best to keep them in their context—to prevent hasty anathematizing. We have the privilege of 1900 years of theological development to stand on, passed on to us through toil, tears, and even death. Anyway...   I have been studying Origen’s writings, particularly his First Principles ( De Principiis) , and came across a wonderful insight that illuminated my thinking on Christ as the image of God. I am working on a doctrine of God course. Below is an excerpt from my lecture material. So, we are going to drop right i

“A New Heaven and New Earth” ~ A (Partial) Preterist Reading of Isaiah 65:17–25

When God says he will create a new heaven and a new earth, what will this new heaven and earth be like? Is it describing an obliteration of the material world, with a new material heaven and earth to follow? Early Church Father Jerome did not see a destruction of the elements; instead, he saw newness , a change into something better. Commenting on this passage, he writes, “The Apostle Paul said, ‘for the form of this world is perishing’ [1Co 7:31]. Notice that he said ‘form,’ not ‘substance.’”[1] Thomas Aquinas sees the new heavens and earth to be “the restoration of goods, for behold I create a new heavens , with new help from heaven, and a new earth , new benefits from the earth; this refers to the day of judgment, when the world will be renewed to the glory of the saints: the former things have passed away (Re 21:4).”[2] Closer to the immediate historical context, another understanding sees this as “a hyperbolic expression of the future restoration of the people of Judah after the