Some Thoughts on Calvin’s Catechism (1537)

John Calvin’s first catechism was originally written in French in 1537 and subsequently in Latin in 1538. It does not take a question-and-answer format like many catechisms from the early modern period, but rather sets out doctrinal points in essay form. It is very much a pearl of great price and provides a concise introduction to his theology. Many associate John Calvin’s name with the doctrine of predestination and the absolute sovereignty of God. While it is true that Calvin did write about these themes, and is justly considered famous for them, his theology was actually more comprehensive than the topic of predestination alone and considered a wide range of theological topics including the doctrine of God, man, sin and death, the law of God, faith, justification, sanctification, repentance, regeneration, prayer, the sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper, and the return of Christ. His first catechism provides a window into his understanding of theology as it should be taught to children and adults. This article will explore the salient themes in his catechism and offer commentary on his thought drawing upon the English edition of his catechism edited by James. T. Dennison, Jr.[1]

The Knowledge of God and of Man

Calvin begins his catechism by arguing that ‘all men are born in order to know God’ (p. 354). This is Calvin’s famous notion of the sensus divinitatis or the awareness of God shared by every human being. There is no such thing as an atheist as far as Calvin is concerned, just someone who is engaged in the business of supressing the knowledge of God revealed in his own constitution as a creature of God and as one made after the image and likeness of the divine being. Given this awareness of God, Calvin argues, ‘the principal care and solicitude of our life [must] be to seek God, to aspire to him with all the affection of our heart, and to repose nowhere else but in him alone’. (p. 354). As St. Augustine famously said, our hearts are restless until their find their rest in God.[2] Calvin distinguishes between true and false religion in the heart and argues that true religion or piety consists ‘in a pure and true zeal which loves God altogether as Father, and revers him truly as Lord, embraces his justice and dreads to offend him more than to die’ (p. 355). Such is the holiness which God requires of humankind.

What must we know of God? Calvin lists several divine attributes of God – his immortality, his great power, his wisdom, his goodness, his justice, and his mercy. Humankind was originally created after the image and likeness of God, but fell into sin to the extent that the ‘intellect of man is indeed blinded, wrapped with infinite errors and always contrary to the wisdom of God; the will, bad and full of corrupt affections, [which] hates nothing more than God’s justice; and the bodily strength, incapable of all good deeds, tends furiously toward iniquity’ (p. 357). This is known as the doctrine of total depravity in the acronym for five-point Calvinism, TULIP. The others which summarise Calvinistic teaching are unconditional election, limited atonement, irresistible grace, and perseverance of the saints. The acronym would not find widespread use until the twentieth century, and some find the specific terminology unhelpful – preferring to speak of definite atonement or particular redemption and effectual calling rather than irresistible grace. Calvin affirms that human beings in the state of sin have no ‘free power’ of choosing between good and evil – or what is commonly known as the freedom of the will. Calvin argues that man is a sinner by nature and a slave to sin: ‘man’s spirit is so alienated from the justice of God that man conceives, covets, and undertakes nothing that is not evil, perverse, iniquitous, and soiled’ (p. 357). It is not that man sins by compulsion, but according to his sinful desires. He wants to sin and delights in wickedness. Human beings sin because they are sinners both by nature and by choice, and the wages and consequences of which are divine retribution, judgement, and everlasting death.

The Moral Law of God

However, according to Calvin, God in his mercy chooses to redeem a great multitude of sinners of lost humanity by his grace and mercy: ‘[God] recalls us from error to the right way, from death to life, from ruin to salvation, from the kingdom of the devil to his own reign’ (p. 358). God first stings our conscience with the severity of the law to reveal our utter helplessness in the state of sin and then offers the healing balm of the Gospel which sweetens the law with love and grace. The moral law reveals sin and drives the sinner to Christ for mercy – it has evangelical and Gospel purposes. It is the schoolmaster to bring us to Christ. The law in Exodus 20 was given in the context of grace: ‘I am the Lord thy God, who has gotten thee out of the land of Egypt, from the house of slavery. Thou shalt not have other gods in my presence’ (Exodus 20:2). God redeemed Israel from the hand of the Egyptians and brought them into a state of freedom – and this before he gave them the moral law. Grace precedes giving of the law in Scripture. There was grace in Eden before there was condemnation. The first commandment teaches us to worship God alone, to rest ourselves in him with all our reliance and hope, to acknowledge that all good and holy things come from him alone, and to praise him for all goodness and holiness.

The second commandment instructs us against the making of any images or representations of the divine – which Calvin connects to the doctrine of John 4:23 which teaches that God is a most pure and holy spirit and must be worshipped in spirit and in truth. He has no body or parts that we should represent him. He is the invisible God. In the context of the Reformation, Calvin takes aim at the Roman Catholic veneration of images and reminds us ‘how gravely the transgression of this commandment offends him’. (p. 360). The third commandment teaches us never to take the name of the Lord in vain. In the broadest sense, this commandment forbids all profane and foul language, but especially takes issue with those who blaspheme the sacred and holy name of God. When we approach the Father, we must do so with reverence and grace upon our lips. Calvin views the sabbath as an ordinance fulfilled in Christ: ‘He is the truth by the presence of which all images vanish’ (p. 360). Christians should not be bound by the superstitious observance of days as in the Roman Catholic Church. This is not to say there is no place for the Sabbath in the Christian life, but that we should not be unduly legalistic about the matter: ‘Hence, although the Sabbath is abrogated, it so happens among us that we still convene on certain days in order to hear the word of God, to break the [mystic] bread of the Supper, and to offer public prayers; and, moreover, in order that some relaxation from toil be given to servants and workingmen’ (p. 361).

Calvin commends the fifth commandment to us that we must honour our mother and father and all those ‘who are likewise constituted above us, such as princes and magistrates’ (p. 362). For this reason, the Protestant Reformation has sometimes been described as the ‘Magisterial Reformation’ which includes the Lutheran, Calvinist, and Anglican churches who allowed some role for the secular authorities or magistrates in the life of the church. This contrasts with the radical Reformation whose members often shunned the authority of the state. The sixth commandment forbids murder and all violence and injury towards our neighbours who are made in the image and likeness of a holy God. The seventh commandment forbids ‘any kind of lewdness and immodesty’ and encourages the practice of faithful marriage between husband and wife. The eighth commandment forbids theft and all kinds of fraud – we must respect our neighbours’ rights, property, and goods. The ninth commandment forbids false witness against our neighbour and all forms of malicious gossip. The final commandment forbids covetousness and evil desire. According to Calvin, the sum of this commandment means that ‘we must be so affectionate that we are no longer even solicited by any cupidity [i.e. greed] contrary to the law of love, and ready to render most willingly to each one that which is his’ (p. 364). The avarice and greed of modern capitalism would have been wholly alien and odious to Calvin who believed that all things ultimately belong to God. The sum of the whole law according to Christ is ‘that we should love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our soul, and with all our strength. And the second article is that we should love our neighbour as we love ourselves’ (p. 364). Love summarises and fulfils the law.

The law has an evangelical function to lead us to Christ. Though it convinces us of inequity and transgression, it is designed to drive us towards Christ for mercy: ‘It is in Christ his Son that God shows himself to us benevolent and propitious … in Christ his face shines full of grace and kindliness even toward miserable and unworthy sinners; for, he gave this admirable example of his infinite love, when he exposed his own Son for us, and in him opened to us all the treasures of his clemency and goodness’ (p. 365). We lay hold of this Christ through faith. ‘Just as the merciful Father offers us the Son through the word of the Gospel, so we embrace him through faith and acknowledge him as given to us’ (p. 365). Christ is freely offered towards sinners in all his fullness in the Gospel, but it is only believers who apprehend and receive him by faith. At the back of faith, however, stands God’s eternal purpose of election or predestination. Without the foreknowledge and predestination of God, none would ever come to Christ or make the first step towards him. ‘For, if he willed to ruin all mankind, he has the right to do it, and in those whom he rescues from perdition one can contemplate nothing but his sovereign goodness. We acknowledge, therefore, the elect to be recipients of his mercy (as truly they are) and the rejected to be the recipients of his wrath, a wrath, however, which is nothing but just’ (p. 366). The fact that God chooses to save anybody is a testimony to his grace and favour. He would have been perfectly just to condemn all humankind to eternal misery, yet he chose in grace to save some – his elect people in Christ Jesus.

Faith and Repentance

What is the nature of true faith? According to Calvin, ‘Faith is a firm and solid confidence of the heart, by means of which we rest surely in the mercy of God which is promised to us in the Gospel’ (p. 367). He ties this to the definition of faith offered by the writer to the Hebrews who argues that faith is the certainty the things to be hoped for and the demonstration of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1). This element of a certain hope seems to be the essence of faith in Calvin’s system. On this point, he may be said to differ somewhat from the English Puritans who correctly argued that assurance was not the essence of faith and who distinguished between strong and weak faith in believers. However, Calvin and the Puritans were agreed on one point: faith should not be seen as a ‘good work’, but as a ‘good gift’ from the hand of God. Salvation is all of grace (sola gratia) and not of works lest any man should boast. Calvin, in agreement with Martin Luther, argues that we are justified in Christ alone (solus Christus) through faith alone (sola fide). We are not declared right before God on the basis of our own merits and works, but on the basis of Christ’s absolute righteousness which is credited or imputed to our account. Justification is a forensic term and has to do with our legal standing before God. We are either guilty in Adam or justified in Christ. There is no middle ground. Sanctification, however, must be properly distinguished from justification. It is a work that follows justification and remains an unfinished work during this life until we are glorified with Christ. It is progressive, rather than declarative. Sanctification also comes to us by faith and through the grace of God in Christ. As Calvin argues, ‘Observance of the Law, therefore, is not a work that our power can accomplish, but it is a work of a spiritual power. Through this spiritual power it is brought about that our hearts are cleansed from their corruption and are softened to obey unto righteousness’ (p. 369). We are not sanctified by our own strength or efforts, but by the strength and efforts of the Holy Spirit working in us by his grace. The law becomes sweet and holy to us, and we desire to keep God’s commandments as a rule of life because of the Spirit of grace at work within us.

Calvin argues that repentance follows faith in the Christian life and becomes a continual habit until glorification. ‘This repentance depends upon regeneration, which has two aspects, that is to say: the mortification of our flesh, that is, a killing of our inborn corruption; and the spiritual vivification through which man’s nature is restored to integrity’ (p. 370). Believers are called to die to sin and to live for Christ for the glory and honour of God alone (soli deo gloria). Those who are justified by faith are also sanctified by God’s grace. They must kill sin, or it will kill them. ‘We must, therefore, meditate during all our life on the fact that, being dead unto sin and our former selves, we may live unto Christ and his righteousness’ (p. 370). Good works are the fruit of sanctification, but never the cause or ground of our justification. They have no merit before God and are always tainted with the stain of sin in our lives. We always need Christ to wash and sanctify our good deeds in order for them to be acceptable before the Father. ‘We always need Christ, so that his perfection may cover our imperfection, [so that] his purity may wash our impurity, his obedience may efface our iniquity; and finally his righteousness may … credit us with righteousness’ (p. 371). We are only ever presentable to the Father when we are washed in the blood of Christ and clothed in his righteousness divine.

The Apostles’ Creed

Calvin walks the reader step by step through the Apostles’ creed which he describes as the symbol of our faith. This symbol adopts a tripartite formula and invites the reader to consider the work of the one true God as Holy Trinity. For within the one divine being, there are three co-equal and co-eternal persons: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. And these three are one God, equal in power and in glory. God the Father is the Almighty who by his great power brought the earth and heavens into being. God the Son is our Lord and Saviour. And God the Holy Spirit is the Lord and Giver of life. Jesus Christ is Lord both according to his divinity and according to his humanity whereby he rules and defends us. He was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the virgin Mary. His conception was the work of God the Holy Spirit in the womb of the holy virgin and mother of God. This was to preserve Christ from all taint of original sin and mark his eternal divinity as the Son of God. He was also born of the virgin Mary and adopted by Joseph in order that he should be known as ‘the true Son of Abraham and of David, who had been promised in the law and the prophets, and as true man, in all things similar to us except only in sin’ (p. 373). Jesus Christ is very God of very God according to the divinity, and he is truly man – bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh – according to the humanity, in every way like unto us, yet without sin. He suffered under Pontius Pilate and was crucified by the Romans at the request of the Sanhedrin. He died, was buried, and descended into hell. According to Calvin, ‘He has shed his sacred blood for the price of our redemption in order to extinguish the wrath of God inflamed against us and to purge away our iniquity’ (p. 373). His death and descent into hell secured our atonement once and for all. Calvin quite clearly views the death of Christ in terms of penal substitution and vicarious satisfaction. It is worth quoting Calvin at length on this point:

He has been crucified in order to bear upon the cross ... our curse which our sins deserved. He died in order to conquer by his death the death which was against us and in order to swallow that death which otherwise would have swallowed and devoured us all. He has been buried in order that we too ... [might] be buried unto sin, being freed from the power of the devil and of death (p. 374).

Here Calvin comes close to expressing the title that would later by penned by the English Puritan John Owen – The Death of Death in the Death of Christ (1648) – so accurately capturing the nature of Christ’s death for us. In terms of Christ’s descent into hell, Calvin understands this difficult phrase to mean his suffering of the undiluted wrath of God against human sin upon the cross, rather than any literal descent into the abode of the dead.

The third day, Christ rose from the dead. After being seen by many witnesses, he ascended into heaven, and sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on High, even God the Father Almighty – and from heaven he will come again with glory to judge the living and the dead. He is no longer dead and death itself has been swallowed up in victory. There is a man in the glory – a man of human bones and flesh with teeth, nails, hair, and skin, with human organs, a human brain, a human mind, human affections, and a human heart. Christ has ascended into heaven and sat down. His work of atonement is finished. He is at the right hand of his Father making intercession for his elect people before the throne of grace. And one day he will come again with glory as judge of the whole earth. None shall escape the rod of his judgement. He will break the teeth of the wicked and condemn those to hell who have lived unrepentant lives before his Father in heaven. But the elect he shall fully and finally save at last, transforming their earthly bodies to be like his heavenly body, glorified and free from sin forever in a world of righteousness and peace.

The creed turns towards a consideration of the person and work of God the Holy Spirit. ‘By the power of the Spirit, Christ makes, upholds, maintains, and vivifies all things; by [the Spirit] he justifies, sanctifies, and purifies, calls and attracts us to himself in order that we may obtain deliverance’ (p. 375). In other words, the Holy Spirit applies the work of redemption to the hearts of the elect – enflaming them with love to God and love to humanity. The church universal and the communion of the saints come together under the Lordship of Christ and his Holy Spirit. There is one living head of the church – namely Christ – and those sanctified in the Spirit belong to his body and function together as various parts. The church is catholic or universal and found in every part of the world, united together by Christ. The church is holy, having been sanctified by the Holy Spirit, bound in one sacred holy communion or fellowship and united in one faith, one hope, one charity, and one inheritance of eternal life. The elect in this one holy and universal church believe in the remission of sins – ‘not through any merit of their own, but through the sole mercy of the Lord’ (pp. 376–77). Outside of this fellowship with Christ and his people, there is no forgiveness for sin. In the words of St. Cyprian, if we would have God as our Father, then we must have the church as our mother.[3]

The incredible news of the creed is that there is forgiveness for all our transgressions in the blood, righteousness, and satisfaction of Christ. The symbol closes with a reference to the resurrection of the body and the glorious life of the world to come. ‘It will so happen that the Lord will call back from the dust and from corruption to a new life the flesh of those who have been consumed by death before the day of judgement. And it shall be so through the one same power by which he has resuscitated his own Son from the dead’ (p. 377). Death is not the end of all being. We were created for eternity and God has stamped eternal life in our hearts. The reprobate will be raised in the misery of his sins to face the final judgement and the lake of fire for all eternity, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth, where the worm never dies and the fire does not go out, and where the smoke of their torment rises forever. The elect, however, will be raised in glory with exceeding joy and the eternal happiness of a new heaven and a new earth wherein righteousness dwells. Heaven is a place of love where we shall see his glory – not as in a mirror darkly – but face to face. Believers have a great hope in Christ. According to Calvin, ‘Hope is nothing else than the expectation of the things that faith has believed to be truly promised by God’ (p. 378). Every true believer should be an optimist about the future, since we have a certain hope of redemption in the Lord Jesus Christ – both body and soul – for all eternity.

The Lord’s Prayer

Believers are called to seek God and ask our petitions in prayer. The Lord Christ gave us a model prayer to use and reflect upon in personal devotion. ‘Prayer’, according to Calvin, ‘is similar to a communication between God and us whereby we expound to him our desires, our joys, our sighs, [and] in a word, all the thoughts [and meditations] of our hearts’.(p. 379). In other words, prayer is communion with God. The Lord’s Prayer is made up of six petitions. The first three petitions focus on God and his glory, while the latter three consider the needs of our humanity. Prayer requires knowledge both of God and humanity – and much as Calvin begins his Institutes of the Christian Religion with the knowledge of God and of mankind, so must we begin our prayer life with an awareness of the power of God and the plight of man. Our prayers must be offered to God as our Father in the name of Christ. Prayer in any other name than the name of Christ is wholly displeasing and odious to God. Observe that we are to pray to our Father who art in heaven. According to Calvin, ‘His marvellous majesty … is thus signified, inasmuch as there is nothing before our eyes more excellent and full of all majesty than the sky. The phrase in heaven is equivalent to saying that God is lofty, mighty, [and] incomprehensible’ (p. 381).

The first petition reminds us of the absolute sanctity of the divine name: hallowed be thy name. ‘The name of God is the renown whereby he is celebrated among men for his virtues, as are his wisdom, goodness, might, justice, truth, [and] mercy’ (p. 380). When we remember God’s name, it is fitting also to remember his attributes and gracious character – that we approach him as our Father, and not as a tyrant. The second petition looks to the coming and advancement of God’s kingdom on earth: ‘We pray, therefore, that God’s reign may come, that is to say, that the Lord may from day to day multiply the number of his faithful believers who celebrate his glory in all works, and that he may continually spread on them more largely the affluence of his graces, whereby he may live and reign in them more and more, until, having perfectly conjoined them to himself, he may fill them wholly’ (p. 382). The kingdom of God is already present on earth, but it is not yet finally consummated as it shall be at the last day. Therefore, we pray that his kingdom may come and that our Lord might reign and put all his and our enemies beneath his feet. The already/not yet eschatological dynamic in Calvin’s approach to prayer reminds us to be optimistic and hopeful as Christians about the future of the church and God’s righteous kingdom. The third petition concerns itself with the divine will in heaven and earth. God’s will in heaven is the pattern for his rule upon earth. He desires that all should keep his will even as the elect angels in heaven observe and do all that God requires of them. The will of man should be wholly and utterly subservient to the divine will so ‘that we wish nothing from ourselves, but that his Spirit may will in us, through whose inspiration we may learn to love all things pleasing to him and to hate and to detest all that which displeases him’ (pp. 382–83).

The fourth petition turns to a consideration of our bodily needs: give us today our daily bread. That we need sustenance, water, and nourishment is part of our condition as being human beings. Even Adam needed to eat fruits and vegetables in Paradise and was to look for the Lord’s hand and provision in this regard. ‘And we must have this trust that, when our Father shall have nourished us today, he will not fail us tomorrow either’ (p. 383). As far as Calvin is concerned, all private property belongs ultimately to God – not even sources of nourishment generated by our own labour and industry belong to us – since all things belong ultimately to God and are rightfully his, and they are given to us in grace, freely and without necessity by his fatherly hand. The fifth petition encourages us to pray for the forgiveness of our sins, even as we learn to forgive others who have sinned against us. Those who harbour grudges against their enemies have never truly experienced forgiveness for their own sins against God and humanity. But those who have been forgiven much, love much and forgive others for their trespasses as freely as God forgives those who have sinned against his awful majesty. The sixth petition of the Lord’s prayer urges us to pray against temptation and Satan’s devices. As Calvin points out, we are not so much asking for no temptations in life, but rather that we would be ‘waked up, stimulated, and agitated for fear that through too long a rest we become too soft and lazy’ (p. 384). According to the Holy Scriptures, we have an enemy – the evil one – even Satan who opposes us and we must be ready with remedies against his devices to ensnare us and to lead us into temptation and sin. We must cast ourselves wholly upon the arm of God in prayer to resist the devil – and the devil seeing the power and promises of God will flee before us – that ‘we may remain invincible above the devil, death, and all the weapons of hell’ (p. 384). And the danger of temptation is a constant reminder for the need of perseverance in prayer and the duty we have to pray without ceasing. Prayer is not a one off, or a quick fix, or a pick me up, it is a sacred and holy act of communion with God. We approach God as our hallowed Father with due reverence, love, and fear.

The Sacraments and Church Order

Calvin closes his catechism with a consideration of the sacraments of baptism and holy communion. What is a sacrament? According to Calvin, ‘A sacrament is an external sign through which the Lord presents and testifies to us his good will towards us in order to sustain us in the weakness of our faith … It is a testimony of the grace of God declared by an external sign’ (p. 386). Contrary to the claims of the Roman Catholic Church, there are only two sacraments according to the Scriptures and the witness of Christ, namely baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Baptism is an outward sign of inward grace. It is a public declaration that we belong to God and are numbered among his covenant people. The Lord has commanded that his own church be ‘sanctified through her bridegroom [namely Christ] and cleansed through the washing of water unto the word of life’ (p. 386). Calvin argues that we rightly baptise the children of believers ‘since they are already participants in the eternal covenant through which the Lord promises that he will be God not only of us, but also of our posterity’ (p. 387). In the New Covenant, baptism is the sign of God’s eternal promise to be faithful to his people, even as circumcision was the sign of the covenant under the Old Testament – and therefore was rightly administered to children. The signs of the Supper of the Lord or Holy Eucharist are ‘the bread and wine, under which the Lord presents to us the true yet spiritual communication of his body and blood’ (p. 387). This is not to say that the elements of the Lord’s Supper literally become the body and blood of Christ, but rather that they signify these elements of Christ’s death to us as we feed upon him crucified, dead, and buried for us. According to Calvin, ‘He gives us in the supper an instruction concerning this matter so certain and manifest that without any doubt we must be assured that Christ with all his riches is there presented to us, not less than if he could be put in the presence of our eyes and be touched by our hands’ (p. 387). This is not to say that we literally masticate the body and blood of Christ as the Roman Catholic Church insists, but that we partake of Christ spiritually by faith and under the direction of his word.

Calvin closes with a consideration of the pastors of the church and their power, the place of human traditions, the role of church discipline and excommunication, and the relationship between the magistrate or civic officer and the church. Since God has ordained that the word and sacraments be administered to his people, it is necessary for the church to appoint pastors and teachers for the flock – such who are pure in doctrine privately and publicly, prayerful in the administration of the sacraments, and who by their good example and teaching instruct God’s people to live lives of holiness and purity. They bind and loose as Christ teaches by the power and under the authority of his word. ‘For the sum of the Gospel is that we are slaves of sin and death, and that we are loosed and freed by the redemption which is in Christ Jesus, while those who do not receive him as redeemer are bound as by new bonds of a graver condemnation’ (pp. 388–89). Pastors and teachers however have no more authority than such as is given to them in the Holy Scriptures. The power to bind and loose is wholly contained in the word of God and not in the office of pastor itself. As Calvin argues,

Let pastors boldly dare all things by the word of God, of which they have been constituted dispensators; let them constrain all the power, glory, and haughtiness of the world to make room for and to obey the majesty of that word; let them by means of that word command all from the greatest to the smallest; let them edify the house of Christ; let them demolish the reign of Satan; let them feed the sheep, kill the wolves, instruct the docile; let them rebuke, reprove, reproach, and convince the rebel – but all through and in the word of God (p. 389).

Notice how carefully Calvin ties the authority of pastors and teachers to the word of God as given in the Holy Scriptures alone (sola scriptura). Should a pastor or teacher exceed the divine word or turn away from what God commands in Holy Scripture, then they must be seen as ‘pernicious wolves’, who must be chased away from the flock of God.

Human traditions are to be allowed in the church only in so far as they conform to the word of God and are edifying for the body. Traditions which upset, distort, undermine, or turn away from the Scriptures are to be rejected. What may be reasonably deduced from the Scriptures for our edification is permitted as necessary, but we should be careful not to ensnare ourselves in the commandments and legalities of men. According to Calvin, excommunication is the act whereby those who are manifestly sinful without repentance or desire to reform their lives are excluded from the membership of the church and are subject to proper discipline. Although this may seem harsh to modern readers, it is actually a kindness to graciously admonish and rebuke the wicked so that they may see their sins and repent of them in order that they might be welcomed back into the fold of God, but only when there is clear evidence of their true faith and repentance. As Calvin says, ‘When this result is obtained, the church with kindliness will receive them again in her communion and in the participation of that union from which they had been excluded’ (p. 390). Discipline is a necessary kindness for the health and wellbeing of the church. However, we are not to sit in pharisaical judgement of others, but kindly and with grace show them their sins in the mirror of the law and lead them back to Christ for mercy, knowing that we ourselves are sinners saved by grace. God welcomes repentant prodigals with open arms and fatherly love. The civil magistrates are to be obeyed in so far as they uphold the word of God. They are called by God to ‘keep in true purity the public form of religion, to establish and to guide the life of the people by good laws, and to procure the welfare and the tranquillity of their subjects, both in public and in private’ (p. 391). For this work, civil magistrates require both justice and judgement: ‘Justice is to safeguard the innocent, to maintain, to keep, and to free them; judgement is to resist the audacity of evil men, to repress violence, and to punish misdeeds’.(p. 391). It is the duty of subjects to obey those in authority over them and to render unto Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.

Select Bibliography

There is a wealth of literature out there on Calvin and Calvinism. The following titles include material about John Calvin and his theology, but also about how Calvinism emerged and developed as a distinct tradition after his death in 1564.

Benedict, Philip, Christ’s Churches Purely Reformed: A Social History of Calvinism (Yale, 2002).

Daniel, Curt, The History and Theology of Calvinism (Durham, 2019).

Dennison, Jr., James T., Reformed Confessions of the 16th and 17th Centuries in English Translation, 4 vols (Grand Rapids, MI, 2008–2014).

Gordon, Bruce, and Carl Trueman (eds), The Oxford Handbook of Calvin and Calvinism (Oxford, 2021).

Gordon, Bruce, Calvin (New Haven and London, 2011).

Hart, D. G., Calvinism: A History (New Haven and London, 2013).

Lehner, Ulrich L., Richard A Muller, A. G. Roeber (eds), The Oxford Handbook of Early Modern Theology, 1600–1800 (Oxford, 2016).

Muller, Richard A., After Calvin: Studies in the Development of a Theological Tradition (Oxford, 2003).

Muller, Richard A., Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics: The Rise and Development of Reformed Orthodoxy, ca. 1520–1725, 4 vols (Grand Rapids, MI, 2003).

Muller, Richard A., The Unaccommodated Calvin: Studies in the Foundation of a Theological Tradition (Oxford, 2000).

Wallance, Jr., Dewey D., Shapers of English Calvinism 1660–1714: Variety, Persistence, and Transformation (Oxford, 2011).

Wendel, Francois, Calvin: The Origins and Development of His Religious Thought (New York, 1963). 


[1] James T. Dennison Jr. (ed.), Reformed Confessions of the 16th and 17th Centuries in English Translation, vol. 1, 1523–1552 (Grand Rapids, MI, 2008). All page number references in the text are to this volume.

[2] See Augustine, Confessions (1. 1).

[3] St. Cyprian, De unit. 6: PL 4, 519. 

The Calvinistic Methodist Fathers of Wales

(Photo credit: Llyfrgell Genedlaethol Cymru / The National Library of Wales)

Two things may strike you as unusual about the title I have chosen for this article. The phrase ‘Calvinistic Methodist’ may seem strange to those who expect Methodists to be Wesleyan or Arminian rather than Calvinistic in their theology. By way of definition, a Calvinist is someone who believes that God has sovereignly chosen or predestined a people for his own glory from before the foundation of the world – a people for whom Christ died upon the cross and who by the power of the Holy Spirit are effectually called to conversion and the life of faith. A Methodist is someone who believes in the primacy of Scripture, the place of apostolic tradition as expressed in the ecumenical creeds, the use of reason to rightly interpret the Scriptures, and who places a high value on the role of experience in theology. Methodism is a theology of experience. The Calvinistic Methodists brought together a robust Calvinistic orthodoxy with a rich, warm, and experiential Methodist piety. In dialectical terms, we might describe Calvinistic Methodism as a synthesis of theology and experience. It brings together both head and heart in a rich experiential theology. 

The choice of the word ‘fathers’ in the title perhaps sounds somewhat patriarchal to modern readers and does not accurately reflect the substantial role played by many women in the early evangelical movement in Wales. Consider, for example, the beautiful hymnody of Ann Griffiths (1776–1805), the devotion of Mary Jones (1784–1864) in her quest to obtain a Bible, or the influence of Selina Hastings, the Countess of Huntingdon (1707–91), on key Methodist leaders. The choice of title is actually influenced by a translation from the original Welsh volumes Y Tadau Methodistaidd (‘The Methodist Fathers’) by John Morgan Jones and William Morgan. They were originally published in 1890 and 1897 and printed in two volumes respectively.  They were translated by John Aaron for the Banner of Truth and published in English for the first time in 2008, revealing considerable contemporary interest in the subject. It is significant to note that John Aaron and the publishers added ‘Calvinistic’ into the title of their translation, suggesting a concern for theological matters relating to Methodism and as an effort to distinguish this type of Methodism from its Wesleyan counterpart. Despite its popularity in Reformed circles, Y Tadau Methodistaidd is not a work of history and should be read critically in the context of nineteenth-century hagiography. 

This article aims to explore the lives, theology, and publications of the major representatives of the Calvinistic Methodist tradition in Wales during the eighteenth century and early nineteenth-century. It aims to highlight many of the key individuals chosen by Jones and Morgan to represent this tradition, while offering a critique of their tendency towards hagiography. Attention is given to the antecedent movements influencing Methodism in England and Wales, the role of Griffith Jones as the ‘morning star’ of the revival, and to the main representatives of the Calvinistic Methodist tradition in Wales including Howell Harris, Daniel Rowland, Williams Pantycelyn, John Elias, and Thomas Charles of Bala. Some space is also given to the best literature available on the subject of Calvinistic Methodism in Wales for those who are interested in pursuing further research. This article aims to be an introduction and survey, rather than a piece of original research. Nonetheless, some aspects particularly those on Williams Pantycelyn emerge from my doctoral research on the subject.

Antecedent Movements

Jones and Morgan argue that Wales was in dire straits during the early eighteenth century and in desperate need of moral and spiritual reformation. They seem to ignore in its entirety the hard work played by many nonconformists in Wales prior to the advent of Methodism and the considerable acumen of their theological seminaries. There are obvious apologetic reasons for portraying Wales in dark colours at this time and offering the Methodist movement as the ‘only solution’ to this darkness. The point is to emphasise that revival is not a work of human effort or agency, but a sudden and unexpected work of the Holy Spirit. In fact, however, the evangelical movement in Wales during the eighteenth-century was deeply influenced by at least three antecedent movements which share some hallmarks with the evangelical Calvinist movement itself. These movements include Puritanism, continental Pietism, and Anglicanism.

The Calvinistic soteriology of Welsh Puritanism was formative in shaping the thought and practice of early evangelicals in Wales like Daniel Rowland and William Williams Pantycelyn. Notable Welsh Puritan influences included Walter Cradock (1606–59), Vavasor Powell (1617–70), and Morgan Llwyd (1619–59) – not to mention an entire host of English Puritans like John Bunyan (1628–88), John Owen (1616–83), and Richard Baxter (1615–91). The second movement to influence early evangelicalism in Wales was continental pietism. The warm devotion and small-group religion of continental pietism as well as their experiential hymnody also shaped early evangelical thought as W. R. Ward has convincingly argued in The Protestant Evangelical Awakening (1992) and Early Evangelicalism: A Global Intellectual History, 1670–1789 (2006). The circulating schools of Griffith Jones (1683–1761) would build upon the pioneering work of continental pietists. Early evangelicals in Wales and were influenced by pietist thinkers such as Phillip Jakob Spener (1635–1705), August Herman Francke (1663–1727), and Count Nicholas Ludwig von Zinzendorf (1700–1760). They founded small devotional groups patterned after those of continental pietism and the Moravian movement. These quasi-conventicles became known as ‘experience meetings’ or seiadau and were established all over Wales during the eighteenth century by Howell Harris (1714–73), Daniel Rowland, and William Williams, Pantycelyn. The third movement to influence early evangelical spirituality in Wales – particularly that of Griffith Jones and Howell Harris – was High Church Anglicanism with its emphasis on apostolic primitivism and Eucharistic theology. It was significant that Howell Harris experienced conversion while partaking the elements of Holy Eucharist. In terms of Anglican activism, the Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge (SPCK) founded in 1698, as well as the Society for the Promotion of the Gospel in Foreign Parts (SPG) founded in 1701, were to exercise considerable influence in Wales through the ministry of Griffith Jones and both were to have a formative influence on evangelical publishing, mission, and social activism in Wales for generations to come.

The evangelical revival during the eighteenth century emerged from a confluence of three antecedent movements and ideas. The Calvinistic Methodist movement in Wales was not a creation ex nihilo, but a development and evolution of pre-existing Puritan, Pietist, and Anglican spiritualities. The position of Jones and Morgan that Wales lay in moral and spiritual degradation before the evangelical revival is simply untenable in the light of the evidence to the contrary. This touches upon a problem with evangelical historiography in general. A reliance upon secondary sources from the nineteenth century to explore the evangelical revival, while perhaps offering a romantic or thrilling story, is no substitute for a careful examination of primary sources during the eighteenth century and the application of modern social and historical criticism.

Griffith Jones (1684–1761)

Griffith Jones was the founder of the Welsh circulating schools during the eighteenth century which served to educate a large proportion of the Welsh population – some 200,000 people in total – and train children and adults to read the Bible in Welsh and memorise the Catechism of the Anglican Church. He passionately advocated learning and study through the medium of Welsh. Jones has been described as the ‘morning star’ of the evangelical revival in Wales, though he would likely have repudiated such an accolade. Though he often gave advice and counsel to the leaders of the evangelical revival in Wales, he was cautious about identifying himself with the movement in its entirety owing to its tendency towards enthusiasm and separation from the Established Church. Nonetheless, Jones was thoroughly evangelical in his theological sympathies and was the first to preach the Gospel in the outdoors – beating George Whitefield and Howell Harris to the post – often in cemeteries attached to the local church. His work in promoting Welsh literacy prepared the ground for the advent of Methodism which was a bookish religion as it encouraged Bible and devotional reading and depended on some degree of literacy for the singing of hymns.

Daniel Rowland (1713–90)

Daniel Rowland was one of the first Calvinistic Methodist leaders in Wales and served in the parishes of Nantcwnlle and Llangeitho. He converted to Methodism after an experience of new birth upon hearing the preaching of Griffith Jones. His preaching at first was characterised by its forensic emphasis on moral law, judgement, and condemnation, but was subsequently softened by Gospel and evangelical emphases. Rowland met with Howell Harris in 1737 and they shared leadership of the evangelical revival for several years. However, serious disagreement arose between them when Harris displayed tendencies towards patripassianism and took the prophetess Madam Sydney Griffiths into his retinue. Rowland rebuked Harris in his Ymddiddan rhwng Methodist Uniongred ac un Cyfeiliornus (‘A discourse between and orthodox Methodist and a heretical one’) which was published in 1749 and he parted ways with Harris in 1752. Rowland constructed a chapel for himself in Llangeitho and famously led the 1762 revival associated with the name of this village. Several sermons by Rowland were published in 1876 as Deuddeg Pregeth ar Bynciau Ymarferol ('Twelve Sermons on Practical Subjects'), however most of his papers and documents which had been entrusted to the Countess of Huntingdon were lost – making detailed biography and analysis of his life and work difficult.

Howell Harris (1714–73)

Howell Harris is generally regarded as the great organiser of Calvinistic Methodism in Wales, as well as being an eloquent preacher, and avid diarist and letter writer. He was converted in 1735 by hearing the vicar of Talgarth preach at Holy Eucharist and set about evangelising in his local community, winning many converts. He soon made contact with the other leaders of the Calvinistic Methodist movement in Wales including Daniel Rowland and Williams Pantycelyn. He subsequently met George Whitefield who spearheaded the Calvinist awakenings in England and America, along with the Wesley bothers who took the movement in an Arminian direction. Howell Harris organised his converts into ‘societies’ and ‘associations’ and developed a system for organising lay preachers throughout south Wales. Though Harris was an avowed Calvinist, he came under the influence of Moravianism and their tendencies towards patripassianism – emphasising a ‘blood and wounds’ theology in which God the Father was also said to suffer at the crucifixion along with God the Son. Tensions were increased when Harris took the prophetess Madam Sidney Griffith (d. 1752) into his retinue and followed her guidance on many spiritual matters. There subsequently occur a considerable disruption or schism within Welsh Calvinistic Methodism between the major personalities of the movement. Daniel Rowland maintained a high degree of orthodoxy and the majority of the movement, while Harris was led into patripassian views of the atonement and establishing a small family at Trevecka. This family was made up of converts from the various parts of the principality with the aim of living communally and sharing goods and services together in the spirit of primitive Christianity described in Acts 4:2.

After being excluded from Calvinistic Methodist circles for some time, Howell Harris was eventually restored to fellowship with Rowland and Williams Pantycelyn, but he did not make the same sweeping successes with converts as he had done at the outset of his ministry. With his responsibilities now at Trevecka, including a newly formed printing press and theological college, Harris found himself with plenty to work on locally and did not take as deep an interest in the societies as he had formerly done. He was less gifted as a preacher than Daniel Rowland and did not produce the same calibre of literary works as William Pantycelyn. He outshone both however with his passion, enthusiasm, and ability to organise – leading some historians to describe Harris as the greatest Welshman of his generation. In addition to his role as a lay preacher, Howell Harris also founded the Brecknockshire Agricultural Society (1755) and served as a militia captain with members drawn from his own evangelical society at Trevecka. A large collection of Harris’s diaries, letters, and papers are held at the National Library of Wales. Though some effort has been made to organise and publish aspects of this collection, the bulk remains in manuscript form but offers considerable insight into 18th century Welsh evangelicalism.

William Williams, Pantycelyn (1717–91)

William Williams, widely regarded as Wales’s greatest evangelical hymnwriter and known simply as Pantycelyn, was also an accomplished poet, author and prose writer, as well as being an evangelical preacher and theologian of some renown among Calvinistic Methodists in Wales. Along with Daniel Rowland and Howell Harris, he was one of three leaders of the early Calvinistic Methodist movement in Wales. He was born at Cefn-coed in the parish of Llanfair-ar-y-bryn in 1717 and educated at a local Nonconformist Academy near Talgarth. He had originally intended to become a physician but was converted dramatically upon hearing the preaching of Howell Harris in a graveyard, and soon joined the Calvinistic Methodists seeking to revitalise the worship of the Established Church. Though raised in nonconformity, with his father being an elder of Cefnarthen Independent Church, Williams took deacon’s orders in 1740 and was appointed as a curate to Theophilus Evans (1693–1767), a vociferous opponent of the Methodism of George Whitefield and Howell Harris. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Williams was refused priest’s orders in 1743 because of his Methodist associations, which Theophilus undoubtedly viewed with deep suspicion. 

Williams devoted the rest of his life to the Methodist cause as an assistant to Daniel Rowland and as a leader of the Methodist societies (seiadau) in Wales. He married Mary Francis of Llansawel around 1748 and they settled together at Pantycelyn, his mother’s farmhouse. They had several children, and lived in reasonable comfort from their farmstead income and the sale of Williams books. Williams is romantically remembered for his itinerant ministry as he travelled around Wales on horseback, peddling his hymns, books, and possibly tea to supplement his livings as a landowner and Methodist preacher.  His role in the evangelical revival in Wales was decisive and his hymns played a crucial part in sparking a religious awakening at Llangeitho in 1762.

Williams chose to convey the dramatic experiential theology of the evangelical awakenings in Wales through poetry and prose. Williams’ epic poems Golwg ar Deyrnas Crist (1764) and Bywyd a Marwolaeth Theomemphus (1764) are thousands of lines long and together form two of his most substantial works of theological reflection. Golwg ar Deyrnas Crist considers the sovereignty of Christ over creation, providence, and redemption, and strikes a decisively Calvinistic tone within a covenantal framework. The poem is also of interest for its extensive footnotes, revealing something of Williams’ interest science and physico-theology. Theomemphus considers the Christian life as pilgrimage from the darkness of sin to redemption and reflects upon the trials of the Christian life with considerable honesty. Though not identical as to its contents, the poem is comparable with The Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan. 

In addition to his epic poems, Williams wrote over eight hundred hymns expressing a deeply personal and heartfelt love to God and Jesus Christ. Most of these hymns were published as collections through the medium of Welsh:  Aleluia (1744–7), Hosanna i Fab Dafydd (1751–4), Caniadau y Rhai sydd ar y Môr o Wydr (1762), Ffarwel Weledig, Groesaw Anweledig Bethau (1763–9), and Gloria in Excelsis (1771–2). However, Williams also published a number of English hymns as collections in Hosannah to the Son of David (1759) and Gloria in Excelsis (1772). His most well-known hymns in the anglophone world include, ‘Guide me, O Thou Great Jehovah’, ‘O’er the Gloomy Hills of Darkness’, ‘Jesus, Jesus, all sufficient’, and ‘In Eden – sad indeed that day’. His hymns are noted for their warm evangelical fervour and experiential divinity. As well as writing hymns, Williams published over thirty elegies (marwnadau) upon the deaths of his fellow Methodists. His elegies often romantically extol the virtues of Methodist leaders and reflect rapturously on the joys of heaven.

Williams similarly published several substantial works of prose, especially following the outbreak of revival in 1762, forming his mature theological and devotional reflections. Pantheologia, neu Hanes Holl Grefyddau’r Byd (1762–79) was published in several parts following the revival. It is a dense treatise on the history of world religions and culture, and one of the earliest examples of comparative religion in the Welsh language. At over six hundred pages, this is not a book for the fainthearted. Williams also published two fictional letters, Llythyr Martha Philopur at y Parchedig Philo Evangelius (1762) and Atteb Philo Evangelius (1763), following the Llangeitho revival in 1762. Although Martha is a fictional character in Williams’ prose, she arguably represents the many hundreds of young converts from the Llangeitho revival. Her letter to Philo Evangelius details the dramatic nature of her conversion experience and her attempt from Scripture to justify her religious enthusiasm. Philo Evangelius responds pastorally to Martha’s letter and locates the revival within the wider context of an international evangelical awakening, and as part of a series of such religious awakenings throughout history. 

Crocodil Afon yr Aipht (1767) is a short discussion on the subject of envy among Christians which Williams Pantycelyn describes as being like a monstrous crocodile, perhaps his own version of the green-eyed monster. It seems to be directed against Sandemanianism from a reference Williams makes near the beginning of the text, though he does not elaborate on this point in any detail. The Sandemanians emphasised a simple doctrine of faith as intellectual assent to the truths of the Gospel, without a subsequent change of life and heart. They were often accused of antinomianism because of this, though they confessed to be orthodox Calvinists. It is difficult to see why a treatise on envy should be relevant to this debate, though evidently Williams thinks it was appropriate at the time. Hanes Bywyd a Marwolaeth Tri WÅ·r o Sodom a’r Aipht (1768) concerns the moral conduct and eternal destiny of three fictional characters: Avaritius (a covetous man), Prodigalus (a wasteful and extravagant man), and Fidelius (a Christian). Fidelius represents a model Christian believer who shuns both covetousness and extravagance and upholds the virtues of charity and compassion to the poor and needy. Aurora Borealis: neu Goleuni yn y Gogledd, fel Arwydd o lwyddiant yr Efengyl (1774) is a fascinating eschatological reflection on the appearance of the Northern Lights across Wales during the eighteenth century. Pantycelyn interprets the lights in postmillennial terms as a sign of the success of the Gospel and perhaps the beginning of the spiritual reign of Christ upon earth. His eschatological optimism emerges from his belief in the success of the Gospel and its capacity to transform the world. 

Williams also wrote about practical matters such as the organisation of religious societies in Wales and the complex relations between society members. Templum Experientiae Apertum: neu Ddrws y Society Profiad (1777) is tract in the form of a dialogue on the importance of the Seiat or Experience Meeting for the Calvinistic Methodists. It is an essential source for understanding the experiential theology and structure of the Calvinistic Methodist societies. Published in the same year, Ductor Nuptiarum: neu Gyfarwyddwr Priodas (1777) is a practical guide concerning marriage, sexuality, and relationships for society members. It was a very forward thinking and progressive booklet for the time, and highlights some of the socio-ethical concerns of the early Calvinistic Methodists in Wales.

Thomas Charles (1755–1814)

Thomas Charles was a leader among the second generation of Methodists and builder of the superstructure of Calvinistic Methodism in Wales. He became prominent among the Calvinistic Methodists in Wales as a promoter of Sunday School education and Bible distribution. The literacy of Welsh children and adults greatly improved under his efforts as they learned to read the Bible in Welsh and answer questions from Thomas Charles’ catechism. He is remembered for the story of Mary Jones, a young girl of sixteen years, who travelled some twenty-five miles barefooted to buy a Welsh Bible from him using her life savings. Many believe this devotion to Scripture moved Thomas Charles to consider founding the British and Foreign Bible Society for the distribution of Bibles throughout the Wales and the Empire. His magnum opus is his Geiriadur Ysgrythyrawl (‘Scriptural Dictionary’) published over four volumes from 1805 to 1811. This work contains important information about the geography and history of Biblical narratives, as well as important theological and philosophical discussion concerning Biblical topics. Charles liberally quotes from classical and religious writers throughout the ages and evidently displays his considerable learning as a Master of Arts graduate from Jesus College, Oxford. Charles subsumes everything in Scripture, theology, philosophy, and history under the overarching sovereignty and providence of God. His evangelical Calvinism is clearly revealed in its pages. Thomas Charles was responsible for ordaining the first Calvinistic Methodist ministers in 1811 and for leading the Welsh Methodists out of the Established Church. This denomination of Calvinistic Methodists eventually became known as the Presbyterian Church of Wales.

John Elias (1774–1841)

John Elias is generally associated with Anglesey where he lived and ministered from 1799 and was sometimes disparagingly described as the ‘The Pope of Anglesey’ (Pab Methodistaidd) by his detractors. He succeeded Thomas Charles as the principal leader of the Calvinistic Methodist Church in Wales and was by all accounts an eloquent preacher. As a child, he learned to read the Bible from the instruction of his grandfather and would often read Holy Scripture aloud at meetings while waiting for the preacher to arrive. He had a tender conscience and was often greatly afraid of divine punishment, though these fears were gradually relieved as he learned to rest upon the righteousness of Christ for salvation. He played an important role in drawing up the denominations’ Declaration of Faith (1823) and its Constitutional Deed (1826). His most important publication was Golygiad Ysgrythyrol ar Gyfiawnhad published in 1821. This essay aimed to show the way in which God, by his free grace, justifies the sinner for Christ’s sake. He is also famous for the Welsh hymn ‘Ai am fy meiau i’ (‘And was it for my sin’) which greatly emphasises the doctrine of Christ suffering and the payment of our debt to God through the atoning working of Christ. Though John Elias was generally orthodox in his theology, he clashed with Thomas Jones (1756–1820) and John Jones, Tal-y-Sarn (1796–1857) over the extent of Christ’s atonement and for a while embraced several heretical ultra-Calvinistic viewpoints.

Conclusion

Methodism in Wales was a synthesis of evangelical Calvinism and deep religious experience. It was ‘Calvinistic’ in theology, emphasising the depravity of humankind and the absolute sovereignty of God in the salvation of sinners. But it was ‘Methodist’ in practice, emphasizing the role of personal religious experience and a high degree of religious and social activism. It brought together mind and heart in fresh and invigorating ways which sometimes provoked opposition from the Established Church, not to mention from unruly and aggressive persecutors. In putting Calvinism back on the menu, it can be said that the Methodist movement in Wales restored the Augustinianism which had been an emphasis of the Catholicism of Medieval Wales. The well-known debate between Calvinists such as George Whitefield and Arminians like John Wesley was essentially a revival of a much older debate between St. Augustine and Pelagius. Calvinism had been a frequent emphasis among Welsh Puritans like Morgan Llwyd and Walter Cradock, but it truly came to its own in the preaching of the Welsh Calvinistic Methodists who most conscientiously preached the doctrines of grace throughout the Principality. Methodism speaks to us of experience, emotion, fervour, and discipline. Calvinism speaks to us of absolute divine sovereignty, total depravity, predestination, and eternal security. Their combination in Welsh Calvinistic Methodism proved to be an electric synthesis which brought together the affections, the intellect, and the human will in a remarkable and attractive combination. Calvinistic Methodism was truly a movement of head, heart, and hand. Many thousands were converted under the preaching of the Calvinistic Methodists in Wales and the movement has left and enduring legacy in Wales as land of evangelical awakenings.

Recommended Reading

With regard to Calvinistic Methodism in England and Wales, readers should consult the history provided in David Ceri Jones, Boyd Stanley Schlenther, and Eryn Mant White, The Elect Methodists: Calvinistic Methodism in England and Wales (2012). Arguably this is the best single scholarly overview of the subject and represents the definitive history of the movement in the light of the latest scholarship. Offering a more literary and theological perspective on Calvinistic Methodism in Wales is Derec Llwyd Morgan’s The Great Awakening in Wales (1988). The thought of Williams Pantycelyn is a particular concern of this volume, and Williams Pantycelyn emerges as a leading theologian in its pages. For a broader contextualised perspective on the movement in Wales – setting Calvinistic Methodism within its international context – readers should consult David Ceri Jones’ scholarly monograph, ‘A Glorious Work in the World’: Welsh Methodism and the International Evangelical Revival, 1735–1750 (2004). Some consideration is also given to various Welsh Calvinistic Methodists in David Ceri Jones, The Fire Divine: An Introduction to the Evangelical Revival (2015). This popular survey introduces readers to the evangelical revival and situates Welsh evangelicalism globally. The Methodist societies or ‘seiadau’ have received considerable attention from Eryn M. White in her study, The Welsh Methodist Society: The Early Societies in South-West Wales 1737–1750 (2020).

On Griffith Jones and his education programme, see E. Wyn James, 'Griffith Jones (16841761) of Llanddowror and his "Striking Experiment in Mass Religious Education" in Wales in the Eighteenth Century', The Carmarthenshire Antiquary 56 (2020), 63–73. The life of Howell Harris has been given significant scholarly attention in Geraint Tudur’s Howell Harris: From Conversion to Separation, 1735–1750 (2000), though Eifion Evans’ Howell Harris: Evangelist 1714–1773 (1974) and Geoffrey F. Nuttall, Howell Harris 1714–1773: The Last Enthusiast (1965) remain useful studies. Eifion Evans has produced useful, if somewhat hagiographical, studies of Daniel Rowland and William Williams: Daniel Rowland and the Great Evangelical Awakening in Wales (1985) and Bread of Heaven the Life and Work of William Williams, Pantycelyn (2010). Other notable studies of the life and work of William Williams include Gelyn Tegai Hughes, Williams Pantycelyn (1983) for the Writers of Wales series and Kathryn Jenkins, ‘Williams Pantycelyn’, in Branwen Jarvis (ed.), A Guide to Welsh Literature c. 1700–1800 (2000), pp. 256–78. With respect to Welsh hymnody, Ann Griffiths, and Williams Pantycelyn, see E. Wyn. James (ed.), Flame in the Mountains: Williams Pantycelyn, Ann Griffiths, and the Welsh Hymn (2017). Regarding Thomas Charles of Bala, John Aaron’s recent publication  Thomas Charles of Bala (2022)  for the Banner of Truth is largely a summary and condensation of D. E. Jenkins’s three volume study of the life and work of Thomas Charles, The Rev. Thomas Charles of Bala, 3 vols (1908). With regard to the story of Mary Jones and Thomas Charles, see E. Wyn James, ‘Bala and the Bible’: Thomas Charles, Ann Griffiths and Mary Jones’, Eusebeia 5 (Autumn 2005), 69–98. The Banner of Truth also publishes Thomas Charles’ Spiritual Counsels: Selected from His Letters and Papers by Edward Morgan (originally published in 1836 and reprinted by the Banner of Truth in 1993 and 2021). For those who read Welsh, D. Densil Morgan has put together a collection of scholarly essays by various academic authors entitled Thomas Charles o’r Bala (2014). The Banner of Truth also publishes John Elias: Life, Letters, and Essays (1973) by Edward Morgan. For a more literary approach to the literature of the evangelical revival in Wales, see T. Robin Chapman, 'Reading the Word, 174090', in The Oxford Literary History of Wales: Writing in Welsh 1740–2010: A Troubled Heritage (Oxford, 2020), pp. 15–30. On the evolution of the Welsh hymn, see E. Wyn James, 'Popular Poetry, Methodism, and the Ascendancy of the Hymn', in Geraint Evans and Helen Fulton (eds), The Cambridge History of Welsh Literature (Cambridge, 2019), pp. 306–34. With regard to the theology of Calvinistic Methodism, readers should consult D. Densil Morgan's Theologia Cambrensis: Protestant Theology in Wales: The Long Nineteenth Century, 1760–1900 (Cardiff, 2021) which discusses developments in the theology of Calvinistic Methodism at some considerable length.  

The Trevecka letters have been catalogued and summarized by Boyd Stanley Schlenther and Eryn Mant White in their Calendar of the Trevecka Letters (2003) – arguably one of the most important collections of correspondence on the evangelical revival in Great Britain. Consideration should also be given to Gomer M. Roberts (ed.), Selected Trevecka Letters 1742–1747 (1956) and the second volume, Selected Trevecka Letters 1747–1794 (1962) as selected letters from the collection. A similar source relating to the personal life of Howell Harris are his journals or diaries. There is no scholarly edition of his journals currently in print, but readers should consult the extracts in Howell Harris: Reformer and Soldier (1958), Howell Harris’ Visits to London (1960), and Howell Harris’ Visits to Pembrokeshire (1966) by Tom Beynon. The published works of William Williams, Pantycelyn also offer insight into the intellectual history and theology of the movement. Readers should consult the scholarly editions of his epic poetry and prose writings in Gweithiau William Williams Pantycelyn (Cyfrol I) (1964) and Gweithiau William Williams Pantycelyn (Cyfrol II) (1967). His hymns may be found in older editions of his works such as those by N. Cynhafal Jones or J. R. Kilsby Jones, but there is currently no textually authoritative edition of his hymns in print. A selection of Daniel Rowland's sermons may be found in a collected edition by Morris Davies (ed.), Deuddeg Pregeth ar Bynciau Ymarferol ('Twelve Sermons on Practical Subjects') (1876), however many papers and documents on the life and work of Rowland have been lost. Thomas Charles’ magnum opus was his Geiriadur Ysgrythyrol published over four volumes from 1805 to 1811, and finally collated as one complete volume in 1853. A much shorter but no less significant work is his catechism on the principles of the Christian religion – Hyfforddwr yn Egwyddorion y Grefydd Gristionogol – which has been through hundreds of editions since its publication in 1807. Another text of relevance by Thomas Charles is his exposition of decalogue – Esboniad Byr ar y Deg Gorchymyn (‘An Exposition of the Ten Commandments’) (1801) which was originally written to combat fears of antinomianism and licentiousness in Wales at the turn of the century. John Elias' most influential works in his day were Traethawd ar y Saboth ('An Essay on the Sabbath') (1804) and Golygiad Ysgrythurol ar Gyfiawnhad Pechadur ('A Scriptural Commentary on the Justification of a Sinner') (1821). He also published numerous items for the Calvinistic Methodist journal Y Drysorfa

‘A bombshell on the playground of theologians’: Karl Barth on the Epistle to the Romans

Life and Ministry

The Swiss Calvinist Karl Barth (1886–1968) was a giant among theologians. He stands securely with the likes of St Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, John Calvin, Jonathan Edwards, and Friedrich Schleiermacher as one of the greatest theologians of all time. He is known for his critique and rejection of theological liberalism as voiced in his commentary on St Paul’s epistle to the Romans which, according to one commentator, ‘dropped like a bombshell on the playground of theologians’ (Karl Adam). His critique of religion represents a key-theme of his commentary on the epistle to the Romans. According to Barth, ‘It was the Church, not the world, which crucified Christ’.[1] This idea could very well have influenced the early 21st century "Why I hate religion, but love Jesus" movement made popular by Jefferson Bethke's viral poem on YouTube. Barth is also known for his role in the Confessing Church, his opposition to Nazism, his theological involvement in formulating the Barmen Declaration, and for his multivolume but unfinished Church Dogmatics. His fame was sufficiently noted in his lifetime when he appeared on the cover of Time Magazine for the 20th April 1962. Barth has exercised a decisive influence on modern theology during the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Notable thinkers indebted to his theology include Dietrich Bonhoffer, Jürgen Moltmann, Wolfhart Pannenberg, Thomas F. Torrance, and Reinhold Niebuhr among many others. He has been described as the father of ‘neo-orthodoxy’, though he would repudiate the title, which itself suggests a return to orthodox theology of Calvin and the Reformers as opposed to the inventions of theological liberalism.

Barth was born into a Swiss theologically-minded family and himself influenced by the liberal theology of his day and age, particularly as it found expression in the thought of Adolf von Harnack, Wilhelm Herrmann, and Friedrich Schleiermacher. He worked briefly writing as a journalist for Die Christliche Welt (The Christian World) and served as an assistant pastor in Geneva before becoming pastor at Safenwil in the Aargau from 1911 to 1921. Confronted by the challenges of his congregation and pastoral ministry, Barth became increasingly disillusioned with the liberal theology of his time and increasing turned to Scripture itself for answers. This eventually led to his publication of a commentary on the epistle to the Romans which jaw-shatteringly broke with the liberalism of his university professors. Its return to the Protestant principle of Scripture alone (sola Scriptura) as the normative source of Christian theology was decisive. For some time, Barth taught theology in Göttingen and Münster and was a key figure in the emerging ‘dialectical theology’ movement, sometimes known as a theology of ‘crisis’. This theology was deeply influenced by an emerging cultural and religious backlash against liberal theology. After moving to Bonn, Barth became increasing involved in politics, especially in opposition to Adolf Hitler, and was the primary hand behind the Barmen Declaration penned in 1934. This document stood in opposition to Nazism and confessed allegiance to none but Christ and Scripture. He was subsequently dismissed from his post and took up an appointment at his native Basel where he remained for the rest of his life and where he continued working on his Church Dogmatics published over several years between 1932–67.

This article will explore Karl Barth’s theology and ethics as developed in their early stages of his life and career in his study of Paul’s epistle to the Romans. Readers would be mistaken to assume that this is merely a commentary on Pauline theology or the text of Romans itself, for it is much more than this. It is a complete reformulation of orthodox theology for the 20th century. Barth recommends studying the epistle to the Romans in the light of a ‘wide reading of contemporary secular literature – especially of newspapers’ – it is therefore a theology at once orthodox and yet wholly relevant to its time and prescient in anticipating the concerns of theology as it developed into the 21st century. Barth’s design in his study of Paul’s epistle is to explore the various theological and ethical subjects raised by the apostle. This includes Paul’s view of Holy Scripture as divine revelation, the nature of God as utterly transcendent or ‘Wholly Other’, the doctrine of justification by faith alone as developed by Luther and Calvin, the representation of humanity in Adam and Christ respectively, the distinction between flesh and spirit in Pauline theology, the doctrine of double predestination and election in Christ, and the ethical and political implications of the epistle as a whole.

The Epistle to the Romans

In his preface to the first edition of The Epistle to the Romans, Barth explores the relationship between the historical-critical method and the traditional view of Scripture as the inspired Word of God. According to Barth, ‘The historical-critical method of Biblical investigation has its rightful place: it is concerned with the preparation of the intelligence – and this can never be superfluous. But were I driven to choose between it and the venerable doctrine of Inspiration, I should without hesitation adopt the latter, which has a broader, deeper, more important justification’.[2] Barth does not deny the importance of an historical-critical method in reading Scripture, but neither does he demur the ‘venerable doctrine of Inspiration’. There is a sense in which Barth is ready to fully engage with the findings of higher criticism while also maintaining a belief that revelation is a word from God. The opening sentences view Paul as an ‘emissary’, a ‘minister’, a ‘servant’ who brings a word from another world: ‘the essential theme of his mission is not within him but above him – unapproachably distant and unutterably strange’.[3] This is the idea of transcendence in Barth. God stands above the writer of this epistle – an apostle nonetheless – as he stands above us all, and that infinitely so.

According to Barth, the Gospel is a word from another world. It comes to us from the unutterable transcendence of God. It is from beyond the world of space and time. ‘The Gospel is not a religious message to inform mankind of their divinity or to tell them how they may become divine. The Gospel proclaims a God utterly distinct from men. Salvation comes to them from Him, because they are, as men, incapable of knowing Him … The Gospel is … the Word which since it is ever new, must ever be received with a renewed fear and trembling’.[4] Human beings by nature are incapable of knowing God. This is because of their finitude and moral rebellion against their Creator. If God is to be known, he must reveal himself and humankind must receive Him with ‘fear and trembling’. These are words which echo Philippians 2:12 (‘work out your salvation with fear and trembling’) and which the Danish existentialist philosopher Soren Kierkegaard chose as the title for his book Fear and Trembling published in 1843. The point at which eternity meets time, in which God becomes man, is Jesus Christ. For Karl Barth, ‘The name Jesus defines an historical occurrence and marks the point where the unknown world cuts the known world’.[5] God steps down in Christ to redeem us.

The law, for Barth, reveals a God who is ‘wholly other’ – one who is infinite, eternal, and unchanging in his being, the same yesterday, today, and forever. His judgement inaugurates the beginning of the end. And the one who saves is also the one who created the world:

The judgement of God is the end of history, not the beginning of a new, a second, epoch. By it history is not prolonged, but done away with … the end is also the goal; the Redeemer is also the Creator; He that judgeth is also He that restoreth all things … what is new is also the deepest truth of what was old … the final subjection to the wrath of God is faith in His righteousness; and then God is known as the Unknown God. As such, He is precisely no ‘thing-in-itself’, no metaphysical substance in the midst of other substances, no second, other Stranger, side by side with those whose existence is independent of Him. On the contrary, He is the eternal, pure Origin of all things. As their non-existence, He is their true being. God is love.[6]

God is not ‘the-thing-in-itself’ – he transcends even our conception of ultimate reality. If we peer beyond the veil of time, we do not find a second substance whom we call God. For He is beyond metaphysics, beyond space, and beyond time. He is the everlasting God, the One who created all things out of nothing and into nothing. God himself is the ground of true being. Authentic existence is found in Him alone. And here is the secret at the heart of Barth’s dogmatics: God is love.

Barth quotes Luther on the paradox of justification: ‘Here therefore is the sermon of sermons and the wisdom of heaven; in order that we may believe that our righteousness and salvation and comfort come to us from outside; in order that we may believe that, though in us dwells naught but sin and unrighteousness and folly, we are nevertheless, acceptable before God, righteous and holy and wise’.[7] Justification for Luther comes from without, rather than within. It is God-given, rather than manmade. It reveals the depth of our depravity and sheer grace of God who accepts us in Christ for his mercy’s sake. For Luther, it is an alien righteousness and a forensic declaration that we are just in the sight of a holy and righteous God. With Luther, Barth sees the righteousness of God as the sovereign and royal demonstration of his absolute power. This righteousness of God is revealed in the Gospel – supremely in Christ – and is one of the principal articles of the Protestant faith. Indeed, according to Lutheran and Reformed theologians, justification was the article on which the Church stands or falls (justificatio est articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae).

Barth argues that we stand before God by faith alone and this before the cross: ‘The cross stands, and must always stand, between us and God. The cross is the bridge which creates a chasm and the promise which sounds a warning. We can never escape the paradox of faith, nor can it ever be removed. By faith only – sola fide – does mankind stand before God and is moved by Him’.[8] It is faith alone which justifies the sinner. This is known as the Reformed principle of sola fide. Notice that it is not faith plus works, but faith alone. The sinner clings to the cross of Christ. He comes for cleansing and for clothing in an alien righteousness. He helplessly looks for grace before the face of God. Abraham believed God – the emphasis being on faith in God himself.  ‘Beyond the line of death is God, the Sustainer Himself unsustained, substantial but without substance, known in his unknowableness, showing mercy in His unapproachable holiness, demanding the obedient recognition of his authority’.[9] We know God by way of negation. We say what he is not and recognise that there is in Kierkegaardian terminology an infinite qualitative distinction between us and God. God is infinite (not bound by space), eternal (not bound by time), and immutable (not subject to change). Barth here builds on what is known as apophatic theology or the via negativa, often associated with mystical theology, which itself aims at the vision of God and mystical union with Christ. For Barth, ‘God is pure negation’.[10] In other words, Barth approaches God by saying what he is not. According to Barth, God is wholly other. He is utterly transcendent. He is above space, time, and eternity. He is beyond being itself. And it is faith in just such an unknown God – a existential leap into the unknown – that justifies and redeems.

At the heart of the Gospel is the work of Christ for us. ‘Christ died for us. For us – that is, in so far as by His death we recognise the law of our own dying; in so far as His death is the place where atonement with God takes place … and where we, who have rejected our Creator return to His love; and in so far as in His death the paradox of the righteousness and the identity of His holy wrath and his forgiving mercy becomes for us – the Truth’.[11] We find in Christ atonement and redemption. The place where God’s wrath is resolved and his mercy overflows to the vilest offender. What exactly does it mean to be justified by God? And who are the justified? They are those who have been brought under the protection of divine justice and those whom He has claimed as his own Kingdom people. They receive forgiveness and freedom in Christ. As Barth says, we are those ‘who have been lifted up into the air, so that we have no standing place except the protection of God – we are they who have been reconciled to God; we are they who have peace with Him’.[12] Those who are justified live a life of love in response to God. They have no choice but to love Him in return. ‘We love because he first loved us’ (1 John 4:19).

Barth contrasts the difference between those in their respective federal heads: ‘If a man be in Adam, he is an old, fallen, imprisoned, creature: if he be in Christ, he is a creature, new, reconciled, and redeemed … There he dies, here he enters into life … Say, in Adam: then the old was and is and shall be, and the new was not and is not and shall not be. Say, in Christ: then the old has passed away, and the new is come into being’.[13] For Barth, this contrast is realised eschatologically: ‘Here the old and visible world encounters judgement unto death, and the new and invisible world encounters judgement unto life’.[14] You cannot experience life without first tasting death. Those who were once in Adam – who had tasted death – know life in Christ. According to Barth, ‘There is no discovery of God in Christ, no entering into life, except men be exposed in Adam as fallen from God and under the judgement of death. But we cannot stop here: there is falling from God in Adam, no judgement of death visible to us, except at the point where we are reconciled to God in Christ and assured of life’.[15] Only those in Christ are conscious of the previous fallenness in Adam. ‘Men live in death, and die in life’.[16] This however is not an endless cyclical process, but a linear teleological one. Christ ultimately has the victory. ‘He is not merely the second, but the last Adam … There can be no return movement from the righteousness of Christ to the fall of Adam’.[17] For Barth, this life which comes from death is the power and theme of the Gospel. Ultimately, this power is realised in the Good News of the Gospel and the Resurrection of Christ.

Barth questions the traditional view of an historical Adam. According to Barth, Adam does not have any existence in the domain of history or psychology as modern historians and psychologists would view the matter. Adam is merely a type of the second Adam, Christ. He exists only in his shadow. He does not have a separate, actual existence in himself. The Genesis account is essentially a myth invested with theological significance. In Barth’s own words, ‘It is evident that neither he nor the Christ risen and appointed to the life of God, the Christ of whom he is the projection, can be ‘historical’ figures … What Adam was before he became mortal and what Christ was after He ceased to be mortal … is therefore by definition non-historical. It follows then of necessity that the entrance of sin into the world through Adam is in no strict sense an historical or psychological happening’.[18] We cannot know what perfect man was originally in Garden in much the same sense as we cannot know what the risen Christ was like as he appeared to the disciples – both are beyond our actual experiences. The point is not Adam as such, but Adam’s sin. ‘We see all men doing what Adam did, and then suffering as Adam suffered. We see men sin, and then die’.[19] We see Adam in sinners of lost humanity, and this is the man we must overcome in Christ.

But God holds out arms of grace to welcome lost humanity: ‘Men, though fallen, are not in His sight lost. He is merciful and wonderful. He is the God who gives the gift of grace. It is therefore wholly congruous that the grace of God should abound to the many … God appears here as Creator and Redeemer, as the Giver of Life and of all good gifts. In the one man, Jesus Christ, what was invisible becomes visible: in Him God utters His “Yes”’.[20] Jesus Christ is God’s ‘Yes’ to humanity. Grace is the unmerited, undeserved favour of God in Christ. Life and good gifts are found only in Him.  If Adam is the old subject, the ego of this fallen world, then Christ is the ego of the world to come. ‘This ego receives and bears and reveals the divine justification and election – This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased’.[21] The revelation of the Resurrected Christ is also a non-historical and unobservable event from our perspective – and even from the perspective of the apostles who never actually saw the resurrection take place. Resurrection is a timeless, transcendent, eternity (see Romans 6:9). Once raised, Christ is forever raised and seated at the right hand of God.

Grace, however, does not mean we have liberty to sin or to present our religion as our own righteousness before God. In fact, grace brings us into a conflict with sin and death. The words of the Apostle Paul reminds us of this fact: ‘What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound? God forbid. How shall we, that are dead to sin, live any longer therein?’ (Romans 6: 1–2). Once captured by the grace of God, we must live before him in righteousness. In the words of Karl Barth:

Grace is the krisis from death to life. Death is therefore at once the absolute demand and the absolute power of obedience over against sin. No tension or polarity is possible between grace and sin; there can be no adjustment or equilibrium or even temporary compromise between them. As men under grace, we cannot admit or allow grace and sin to be two alternative possibilities or necessities, each with its own rights and properties. For this reason, the Gospel of Christ is a shattering disturbance, an assault which brings everything into question. For this reason, nothing is so meaningless as the attempt to construct a religion out of the Gospel, and to set it as one human possibility in the midst of others. Since Schleiermacher, this attempt has been undertaken more consciously than ever before in Protestant theology – and it is the betrayal of Christ. The man under grace is engaged unconditionally in a conflict. This conflict is a war of life and death, a war in which there can be no armistice, no agreement – and no peace.[22]  

Here Barth attempts to recover an orthodox perspective on sin and grace and offers a critique of Schleiermacher and Protestant liberalism in general. He throws down the gauntlet to the liberal ideology of his day and offers in its place a theology of crisis. From a Barthian perspective, we must kill sin, or it will kill us. Small wonder Barth’s theology was said to have dropped like a bombshell in the playground of theologians! His critique of liberalism and the attempt to make a religion out of the Gospel was cutting edge at the time of writing. It spoke directly into the post-Schleiermacherian situation and challenged liberal theology to self-reflection and critique – a crisis from which it has never fully recovered.

Barth argues that our righteousness or that which makes us right with God is found in Jesus Christ: ‘The righteousness of God in Jesus Christ is a possession which breaks through this twilight, bringing the knowledge which sets even human existence ablaze’.[23] There is something brilliant about the righteousness of Christ. It sets ablaze, purifies, and beautifies the sinner. It is an alien righteousness in that it belongs to Christ, though it is considered as belonging to us by faith. The infinite distance between the Creator and the creature is bridged by the righteousness of God in Christ:

The revelation and observation – of the Unknown God – whereby men know themselves to be known and begotten by Him whom they are not; by Him with whom they have no continuity or connection; to whom there runs no road or bridge along which they can pass; who is the Creator and their Primal Origin – this revelation and observation in so far as He reveals Himself and allows us to perceive Him as Father, makes impossibility possible. It is grace.[24]

In the Gospel, God is not merely revealed as Creator and Primal Origin, but as Father. He is the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ, and he is our Father by way of adoption. We are considered to be children of God. It makes the impossible, possible. It reveals God as our heavenly Father. It reveals his eternal ‘yes’ to lost humanity in Christ.   

Barth suggests that being justified ‘in Christ’ has an eschatological dynamic as the believer anticipates the New Jerusalem: ‘Thus related, apprehended, seen, and recognised, we become aware of the impetuous roaring of heaven, as it were a mighty rushing wind, which fills all the house … we see the Holy City, the New Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven … and know that we – are in Christ Jesus. Comprehended in the dissolution of the man of this world, which is revealed in Jesus as the Christ, we are established as new men and pass from death to life. This is the meaning of the words – in Christ Jesus’.[25] To be justified means that there is no sentence of death against those that are in Christ Jesus. They have passed from death to life. And in the face of Jesus Christ shines all the glory of God. According to Barth,

God is Personality: He is One, Unique, and Particular – and therefore He is Eternal and Omnipotent. To Him the human historical Jesus bears witness. But Jesus is the Christ: that is to say, the particularity of God is illuminated by His existentiality. Therefore, in spite of all believing and unbelieving historicism and psychologizing, we encounter in Jesus the scandal of an eternal revelation of that which Abraham and Plato had indeed already seen … In Jesus, and precisely in Him, the Love of God breaks through all historical and psychological analysis … Because God is eternal and omnipotent, He is unique and once-for-all. To this, Jesus, the Christ, the eternal Christ, bears witness … God sends Him.[26]

For Barth, the Triune God is One. He is an absolute person – eternal and omnipotent. The historical Jesus bears witness to this eternal, absolute person. But Jesus is also the Messiah (the Christ) and God is especially revealed in Him as Christ. Barth includes Plato and Greek Philosophy along with Abraham and Jewish redemptive history. Both in their own unique ways speak of God and the Logos. Historical and psychological criticism may have reduced Jesus to mere a sentimental phenomenon within the heart of the believer, but for Barth the love of God breaks through the attempts of liberal theology to reduce the person of Christ to history or psychology. The love of God in Christ is everything. And God the Father sends Him – the Christ, the Son – into this world to redeem us.

Barth carefully distinguishes between the Pauline terms ‘flesh’ and ‘spirit’. He argues that in this life we cannot distinguish between those who are in the flesh and those who are in the spirit. The Church, as St Augustine argued, is a mixed body of sinners and saints. ‘Should someone claim that he is competent to distinguish between those in the flesh and those in the Spirit, he thereby proclaims himself to be undoubtedly in the flesh’.[27] This was the error of the Donatists who attempted to collate a pure body of saints as the manifestation of the Church. The distinction between flesh and spirit go back to God’s eternal purpose in predestination: ‘In time, it has already been decided that we are all in the flesh; in eternity is had already been decided that we are all in the Spirit. We are rejected in the flesh, but elected in the Spirit. In the world of time and of men and things we are condemned, but in the Kingdom of God we are justified. Here we are in death, there we are in life’.[28] We are all either reprobate in the world or elect in the kingdom of God – there is no middle ground. Christ is supremely chosen by God and all those found in Him are beloved children of God in the Holy Spirit. In his Church Dogmatics, Barth argues that ‘Jesus Christ was the choice or election of God … He was the election of God’s grace towards man. He was the election of God’s covenant with man’.[29] Those in Christ are elect and assured of God’s grace towards them. He utters His ‘yes’ towards them in Christ.  

Those who love God have been called according to his eternal purpose. Election stands at the back of his love for us. In the words of Karl Barth, ‘The Unknown, the Invisible, the Eternal, is He that hath called you; and as such ye love Him’.[30] It is fitting for created beings to love their Creator who is beyond all comprehension, sight, and things temporal. He is the object of their love and has called them – chosen them – according to his perfect purposes. ‘Men are therefore foreordained by God, because they are known of him: If any man love God, the same is known of him (1 Cor. viii. 3)’.[31] God has foreordained in his eternal purpose to ‘know’ us – that is, to love us. His love stands at the back of the whole work of redemption. The reason God gave his only Son was because he loved us in Him. The contrast between our love for him and his love for us is a wide as the ocean:

When the door opens and the light of Christ exposes us as we are, who can be justified? How vast is the gulf which separates us from the love of Christ? How incommensurable is the love of God displayed in His death compared with the tiny spark of our love! How immense is the contrast between the tribulation of the life we have to live and the divine, eternal, glorious Future which we behold and believe and encounter in Him![32]

Our love pales into insignificance in the light of God’s love for us. We are swallowed up in God and lost in Christ. We are utterly consumed by the extravagance of his love for us. The doctrine of election is also the doctrine of God’s love. When we seek to pry any further or ask why has God so willed? We find nothing but love – an infinite, boundless, and bottomless ocean. ‘We love because He first loved us’ (1 John 4:19).

Barth argues that God is qualitatively distinct from humanity. He is, to use his famous term, ‘wholly Other’. He transcends being and time itself. He is radically different from us. He is the Creator, and we are the created. This Creator-creature distinction is a hallmark of classical Reformed theology and is adapted by Barth to say that God should not be identified with anything we can know or experience in the world. He created this world out of nothing; not out of himself. The world is not God. You are not God. You are not made of God-stuff. You are a creature. God is Creator. And this very God speaks with utter authority. When he says ‘Halt’, we must stop. When he says ‘Advance’, we must go forward. He is the First and the Last, the Unknown, the Lord, the Creator, the Redeemer – the living God. And He is revealed supremely in the Gospel of Christ. ‘In the Gospel, in the Message of Salvation of Jesus Christ, this Hidden, Living God has revealed Himself, as He is’.[33] Jesus Christ is the highest and fullest revelation of God himself. He was with God in the beginning and all things were made by and through Him. He is the infinite, eternal, and unchanging Son; forever blessed of the Father. In his face shines all the glory of the Godhead.

Barth argues that this same Gospel was revealed to Israel under the Old Covenant in toto. ‘Nothing that men can say or know of the Gospel is ‘new’; for everything which they possess is identical with what Israel possessed of old. Historically, and when it is treated as the negation of divine revelation, the New Testament seems to be no more than a clearly drawn, carefully distilled epitome of the Old Testament’.[34] This suggests a high view of the Old Testament in Barthian theology – something which his opponents often deny Barthians as having altogether.  The entire substance of the Gospel is found as much in the Old Testament as in the New – and this is full possession of the Christ. According to Barth, ‘If it is a matter of being Israelites, of possessing the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the fathers, the giving of the law, the service of God, the promises, and Christ according to the flesh, does not the Church possess precisely all this? Is there anything we can possess more than the whole fullness of the Old Testament?’[35] In other words, the church stands on the shoulders of giants. And this is not merely true of Biblical history, but also of Church history. We build on what has gone before us. We are one holy, catholic, and apostolic Church – against which the gates of hell shall not prevail. Barth was not concerned to establish new teachings or new doctrines. He saw himself as returning to orthodoxy post-liberalism – building on the old within the context of the 20th century.

Barth turns his attention to the doctrine of double predestination as taught in Romans chapter nine. Traditional Calvinism has argued that election refers to two categories of people: the elect and the reprobate. There is an invisible line drawn between these two categories of people eternally separated from one another by God’s sovereign choice. For Barth, this somewhat misconstrues the Scriptural doctrine of election. According to Barth, election refers principally to the person of Christ. He is the one whom God chooses, and all are chosen in him as their covenantal head. He is both the object and the subject of election. He is both the electing God and the elect man of God. Election is God’s eternal ‘yes’ to humanity in Christ. It is God’s decision to be ‘for us’ rather than ‘against us’. According to Barth, elect and reprobate do not represent two categories of being, but rather one entity in the mind of God – those who are subject to God’s condemnation of sin, but also those whom he accepts in Christ. Barth develops a Christocentric understanding of double predestination in a dialectical approach to the subject. Christ is both the object of election and reprobation. He is both God’s ‘Yes’ and ‘No’. He suffered rejection and God-forsakenness at the cross in order that lost humanity might participate in his election and become children of God – and if children, then heirs – heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ Jesus (Romans 8:17). 

 For Barth, the twelfth to fifteenth chapters of Romans consider the problem of ethics, politics, and application of the epistle to human behaviour. According to Barth, ‘human behaviour must inevitably be disturbed by the thought of God … If our thinking is not to be pseudo-thinking, we must think about life; for such a thinking is a thinking about God’.[36] Barth’s theology is not divorced from its application in reality – the here and now. It takes into consideration ‘life’ and adopts a dialectically approach to the problem of ethics. The ethical problem of ‘what shall we do?’ or ‘how then shall we live?’ bring us in relation to the ‘other’. Referring to Soren Kierkegaard, Barth argues that our neighbour – the ‘other’ with whom we have to do – is ‘every man. A man is not thy neighbour because he differs from others, or because in his difference he in some way resembles thee. A neighbour is that man who is like unto thee before God. And this likeness belongs to all men unconditionally’.[37] Our love towards our neighbour should be rooted and grounded in our love towards God:

Worship, it is true, represents love towards God; it represents the existential action of men which is directed towards the unsearchable majesty of God. But worship can only represent existential love only in so far as it is significantly engaged in the corresponding love of men which is the parable of the love towards God. Love of men is in itself trivial and temporal; as the parable of the Wholly Other, it is, however, of supreme significance … As the love of men towards men, agape is the answer of the man who under grace is directed towards the unsearchable God. Agape is the concrete analogue of election.[38]

If our love towards men is not grounded in our love towards and worship of the Triune God, then it is not true love at all. It is as Barth says, ‘trivial and temporal’. If, however, our love is rooted and grounded in that which is Wholly Other, then it is a love of infinite and eternal proportions. It is the evidence of our election in Christ. Grace compels us towards agape. It compels us to love God and in him all whom God has created to coinhabit this world with us. Love is the fulfilment of the law (Romans 13:8–10).

In conclusion, Barth's study of Paul's epistle to the Romans is more than a commentary on a human text. It is a statement of dogmatics in the light of Scripture as a whole. Barth reveals a high view of Scripture as the revealed word of God to lost humanity. His approach to exegesis is deeply Christ-centered. He considers the doctrine of justification by faith alone as taught by Luther, Calvin, and the Reformers to be one of the principal articles of faith in the light of the cross. And he develops an interesting approach to the doctrine of 'double predestination' with a decisively Christocentric focus. Barth throws down the gauntlet to the liberal theology of his time and advances a return to orthodoxy in his study of Paul's theology. He presents a God who is 'wholly other', uncanny, and different from the world of becoming. A God who is utterly transcendent, God-like, and divine. This is not to say that Barth merely regurgitates the theology of the Reformers. On the contrary, he restates the theology of the Reformers for the 20th century. It is dogmatics with relevance. Though Barth can be a challenging read at times, his study of Paul's epistle to the Romans remains clear and readable throughout. I would highly commend it to pastors, students of theology, and interested lay folk and would heartily remind readers that they are dealing with one of the most explosive texts in 20th century theology. Handle with care! 

Recommended Reading

Bromiley, Geoffrey W., Introduction to the Theology of Karl Barth (Edinburgh, 1979).

Burnett, Richard (ed.), The Westminster Handbook to Karl Barth (Louisville, Kentucky, 2013).

Busch, Eberhard, Karl Barth: His Life from Letters and Autobiographical Texts (London, 1975).

Franke, John R., Barth for Armchair Theologians (Louisville, Kentucky, 2006).

Jones, Paul Dafydd and Paul T. Nimmo, The Oxford Handbook of Karl Barth (Oxford, 2019). 

Morgan, Densil D., The SPCK Introduction to Karl Barth (London, 2010).

Morrison, Stephen D., Karl Barth in Plain English (Columbus, OH, 2017).

Tietz, Christiane, Karl Barth: A Life in Conflict (Oxford, 2021).  

Tseng, Shao Kai, Karl Barth: Great Thinkers (Phillipsburg, NJ, 2021).

Webster, John (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Karl Barth (Cambridge, 2000).

Webster, John, Karl Barth (Outstanding Christian Thinkers) (London and New York, 2000).


[1] Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans (London, 1933), p. 389.

[2] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 1.

[3] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 27.

[4] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 28.

[5] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 29.

[6] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, pp. 77–78.

[7] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 93.

[8] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 112.

[9] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 120.

[10] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 141.

[11] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 160.

[12] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 163.

[13] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 165.

[14] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 165.

[15] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 165.

[16] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 165.

[17] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 166.

[18] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 171.

[19] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 172. 

[20] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 180.

[21] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 181.

[22] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 225. Emphasis my own.

[23] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 227.

[24] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 227.

[25] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 272.

[26] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, pp. 276–77.

[27] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 284.

[28] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 284. Emphasis my own.

[29] Barth, CD II/2:101–2.

[30] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 323.

[31] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 324.

[32] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 328.

[33] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 331.

[34] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 338.

[35] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 339.

[36] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 424–25.

[37] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 442.

[38] Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 452.