Calvin does use the word “heart” in many ways throughout The Institutes. But at least when he’s talking about the depravity of the psychological faculties, he takes the biblical uses of “heart” as references to the corrupt will. I think this is a problem, but I make no comment about that here. But to preserve a key example:
God, therefore, begins the good work in us by exciting in our hearts a desire, a love, and a study of righteousness, or (to speak more correctly) by turning, training, and guiding our hearts unto righteousness; and he completes this good work by confirming us unto perseverance. But lest any one should cavil that the good work thus begun by the Lord consists in aiding the will, which is in itself weak, the Spirit elsewhere declares what the will, when left to itself, is able to do. His words are, “A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judgments, and do them,” (Ezek. 36:26, 27). How can it be said that the weakness of the human will is aided so as to enable it to aspire effectually to the choice of good, when the fact is, that it must be wholly transformed and renovated?
John Calvin, Institutes, II.3.6
“To have a law conception of ethics is to hold that what is needed for conformity with the virtues failure in which is the mark of being a bad qua man (and not merely, say, qua craftsman or logician) — that what is needed for this, is required by divine law. Naturally it is not possible to have such a conception unless you believe in God as law-giver; like Jews, Stoics, and Christians. But if such a conception is dominant for many centuries, and then is given up, it is a natural result that the concepts of ‘obligation,’ of being bound or required as by a law, should remain though they had lost their root; and if the word ‘ought’ has become invested in certain contexts with the sense of ‘obligation,’ it too will remain to be spoken with a special emphasis and special feeling in these contexts.
“It is as if the notion ‘criminal’ were to remain when criminal law and criminal courts had been abolished and forgotten. A Hume discovering this situation might conclude that there was a special sentiment, expressed by ‘criminal,’ which alone gave the word its sense. So Hume discovered the situation which the notion ‘obligation’ survived, and the notion ‘ought’ was invested with that peculiar for having which it has said to be used in a ‘moral’ sense, but in which the belief in divine law had long since been abandoned: for it was substantially given up among Protestants at the time of the Reformation.(2) The situation, if I am right, was the interesting one of the survival of a concept outside the framework of thought that made it a really intelligible one.”
2 They did not deny the existence of divine law; but their most characteristic doctrine was that it was given, not to be obeyed, but to show man’s incapacity to obey it, even by grace; and this applied merely to the ramified prescriptions of the Torah, but to the requirements of ‘natural divine law.’ Cf. in this connection the decree of Trent against the teaching that Christ was only to be trusted in as mediator, not obeyed as legislator.”
Anscombe, Modern Moral Philosophy, 5.
Comment: Her comments confirm a long held suspicion on my part that the notion of something being “obligated” implies stipulation of punishments. I used to consider, what are the punishments for forgoing “obligation” in the New Testament? Furthermore, her observation about Protestants functionally rejecting the law is fascinating to me, not least because I am from a tradition which explicitly rejects the third use of the law. I suppose I could simply conclude that my Reformation heritage is all the more reason for me to be happy Aristotelian (non-law conception) and reject moral grounding in “divine law.” The question really presses me, is God’s law in the Old Testament really timeless and universally valid? Or was it a construal of his will directed to that time and context–a vehicle of soul-making?
“Our wisdom, in so far as it ought to be deemed true and solid Wisdom, consists almost entirely of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves.”
John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion
In honor of, an old paper on Justification.
If You Can’t Defeat ’em, Distort ’em
Sometimes scholarship rivals politics for warped renderings of the opponent. Consider this from Etienne Gilson, a Roman Catholic historian of philosophy:
For the first time, with the Reformation, there appeared this conception of a grace that saved a man without changing him, of a justice that redeems corrupted nature without restoring it, of a Christ who pardons the sinner for self-inflicted wounds but does not heal them. (The Spirit of Medieval Philosophy, 421)
How desperately some want to believe that justification by faith is cut off from holiness and is powerless to produce love. Michael Horton counters, “In actual fact, there are no Protestant accounts of this kind, at least of which I am aware” (Covenant and Salvation, 243).
“Unless I am convinced by proofs from Scriptures or by plain and clear reasons and arguments, I can and will not retract, for it is neither safe nor wise to do anything against conscience. Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me. Amen.”
I’m thankful to God for the courage of Martin Luther to fight established dogmas with a reasonable and common sense interpretation of Scriptures. The world could use more theologians like Luther who can move beyond prolegomena to teach the meaning of scripture and its glorious implications for Christ’s church. Post Tenebras Lux!