Amazing Grace, A Paradigm for Piety

by Tom Schwanda

[Tom Schwanda is Associate Professor of Christian Formation & Ministry at Wheaton College in Wheaton, Illinois]

[This article first appeared in the January 1994 issue of Perspectives. Reprinted with permission.]

Last July a significant event took place in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Twenty-five representatives from the United States and Canada convened for a Gathering on Reformed Spirituality. The participants included members of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), RCA, CRC, UCC, as well as a scattering of non-Reformed delegates. For two days we worshiped together and listened and responded to various presentations .that explored the historic roots and future dimensions of a Reformed spirituality. The guiding prem­ise for this gathering was to discern the nature of Re­formed spirituality so we might be better able to engage in dialogue with other faith traditions.

Ours was not an easy task, and as we wrestled with the centuries of our collected heritage it became clear that our limited time together would not yield any clear consensus. We live in an age of pluralism. What is obvious at a quick glance today is also accurate as we view the landscape of our almost five 'hundredyears of Reformed history. Time, context, and ethnicity have placed their stamp on the for­mation and variegation of Reformed spirituality. That is to say, Calvin did not follow the same patterns as Zwingli, nor did Olevianus parrot Knox. Within our closet we find a great cloud of witnesses that appear to stretch the pa­rameters and complicate the task of 'assembling a neatly organized definition. Puritanism produced both a John Owen and a Francis Rous. In the United States a similar contrast can be seen between Charles Hodge and John Nevin and the Mercersberg Movement. The list is legion but alsoincludes the likes of Gisbertus Voetius, Gerhardt Tersteegen, Jonathan Edwards, Andrew Murray, Emily Herman, Karl Barth, Hughes Oliphant Old, Don Postema, and Eugene Peterson.

Further; we should recognize that the early reformers would take exception to the term spirituality. Even today the word often conveys the impression that our spiritual life is something private and isolated from the real world. I echo the chorus of many others who find value in re­claiming the preferred term piety. While years of abuse and neglect have tarnished the image of piety, properly under­stood it challenges us to live out our entire life before and under God's presence and guidance.

What then constitutes a Reformed piety? A random sampling would probably begin by asserting the primacy of God, Scripture, and ecumenicity. The sovereignty of God was foundational not only to Calvin but to other reformers. Tragically, fringe representatives and distortions of this radically God-centered focus have often communi­cated an image of God as someone who is distant and apathetic to the human situation. This picture of a "tyrant" God reveals a faulty grasp of the reformers.-In reality, the correct perception of God is of a heavenly father who de­sires to bless us with the abundance of divine goodness and care. Calvin frequently employed the approachable image of God as the "fountain of all good," envisioning God as a tender and gracious father. If Reformed piety has been guilty of giving greater attention to the transcen­dence of God, it is due, at least in part, to the resistance to mystical spirituality that reflects more of God's imma­nence.

Scripture has long held center stage for the Reformed tradition. Scripture reveals Cod's objective revelation to a people who need to experience the saving knowledge of their Creator. Calvin repeatedly maintained that this knowledge was more than a factual collection of biblical data. Rather, it was a lively, experiential knowing within the human heart.

Unfortunately, people today are increasingly elevating the importance of experience to the exclusion of truth and revelation. Subjectivity continues to gain ground, resulting in a certain reductionism under its spell. There is too much accommodating to the culture rather than grappling with and growing into the transformative nature of the Scrip­tures. There is little wonder that the sermon has been the dominant means of forming Reformed Christians. People of Reformed persuasion have always valued the mind as a gift from God that should be harnessed and used to God's glory. To this end, scholarship and the development of schools and universities have occupied a central concern for those of the Reformed tradition.

Another element that reflects the core tenets of a Re­formed understanding of life is its catholic or ecumenical flavor, The best of Reformed thinking has not been narrow or constrictive. Rather it realizes the adage that all truth is God'struth, and you may occasionally be surprised where you discover it. That is to say, our Reformed brothers and sisters were not averse to interacting with and borrowing from people of various traditions. Alexander Whyte's pi­ety was decisively formed by the Puritans. In particular, he had a great affection for Thomas Goodwin. However, this did not limit his reading to the Reformed tradition. In his desire to discover spiritual truth he took excursions into numerous other devotional writers. Whyte wrote a book in appreciation of Saint Teresa of Avila that was actually used in a monastery.

While the triad of above characteristics is indicative of a Reformed piety, I wish to advance an alternative para­digm. I suggest that grace is both foundational to our heritage­ and that, due to its elusive nature, it needs to be re­claimed again and again. Exploring this concept assists us in understanding our own roots, as well as realizing the insights we can offer to others as we grow more fully into our life in Jesus Christ.

The startling news of the Scriptures is that God is for us (Rom. 8:31). While we have resisted and rebelled against God, while we have abused and attacked others, God satu­rates us with the amazing grace of mercy, providential care, and myriad blessings. The Heidelberg Catechism fo­cuses on this essential truth from the first question when it asks, "What is your only comfort in life and death?" and answers in these liberating words: "That I am not my own, but belong body and soul, in life and death to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ." The Scriptures overflows with re­minders of this gracious offering of God to us in need (cf. Rom. 2:4; 3:24; 5:15, 20; 11:6; Gal. 2:15-21; Eph. 1:7; 2:7-10; 1 Tim. 1:14; Tit. 2:11; et al.).

While neither time nor space permits an extensive re­view of the multifaceted dimensions of grace, I will offer five implications as a primer for piety. Inherent in the very nature of grace is the initiating presence of God. While we are unable to act, God initiates the dawning movement. This reliance on the divine initiative is not common to all species of spirituality. By examining the first chapters of Kenneth Leech's SoulFriend and Tilden Edwards's Spiritual Friend we observe the original focus is on the human quest. While this is important and crucial to the process, this in­version would make the early reformers uneasy. Grace is so essential to a Reformed piety because it takes reality seriously. What John Owen and the Puritans called "in­dwelling or residual sin" is manifest in the divided hearts and twisted loyalties that surround us even on our best days. Much Reformed thinking reflects the Augustinian position that mirrors the biblical expressions of the apostle Paul. Paul's spiritual wrestling match recorded in Romans 7:14-25 is a further reminder of our need for grace.

Related to this development of God's initiative is the awareness of the heavy reliance the Reformed tradition has placed on revelation. The Scriptures, inspired by God as authentic and authoritative, are received and revered more than the writings of tradition or of church councils.

Further, any consideration of God's initiative calls us to the task of paying attention to the specific context in which we live. At the dawn of the Reformation there was wide­spread spiritual anxiety as a result of the medieval peni­tential system. Many people lived in fear regarding their salvation. Unfortunately, there are numerous reminders of the same malady today. The misunderstanding of grace and overly generous application of shame have created similar spiritual anxiety in our generation. The failure to appropriate the genius of Reformed piety has created plenty of patients for hospitals and a steady stream of cli­ents for counselors, as well as a higher than average per­centage of victims of abuse and domestic violence.

Amid the tremendous fear and hunger of the contem­porary soul, there is a renewed need for us first to claim and live by God's initiating grace so we might reflect the same graciousness to others. One of the recurring themes discussed during the Gathering on Reformed Spirituality last July was the difficulty of truly living by grace. Guilt is much simpler, and frequently we revert to it.

Next, grace compels us to differentiate between coop­eration with God and our own effort. There is an aspect of humanity that appears intent on quantifying every compo­nent of life. The Christian life rarely escapes this tendency. Medieval spirituality sought to measure the soul's pro­gress through the stages of purgation, illumination, and union with God. This type of thinking confronted the re­formers with two problems. First, while they often spoke of communion with God and union with Christ, they re­sisted the phrase "union with God." Central to their rea­soning was a mistrust of Neo-Platonism that often blurred the distinction between God and humanity and denigrated the physical world.

Second, Reformed thinking has had serious problems with a staged approach to Christian growth. This is evi­denced in the 1989 document of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), Growing in the Life of Christian Faith. However, much earlier a similar concern was voiced by the Aberdeen pastor Henry Scougal:

I doubt it hath occasioned much unnecessary disquie­tude to some holy persons, that they have not found such a regular and orderly transaction in their souls as they have seen described in books; that they have not passed through all those steps and stages of conversion which some "who, perhaps, have felt themselves, have too peremptorily" prescribed unto others: God hath
several ways of dealing with the souls of men, and it sufficeth if the work be accomplished, whatever the methods have been. (The Life of God in-the Soul of Man,
94-95)

Reformed piety is conscious of the presence and in­volvement of the Holy Spirit in the sanctification process and resistant to anything that minimizes God's role, such as the recent preoccupation with faith-development.john Westerhoff, whose early years were formed in the CRC, has reminded us that the dynamic process of growing in Christ really requires the three interrelated processes of forma­tion, education, and instruction. Further, he contends that developmental insights are helpful only for instruction, not for formation or education. Richard Lovelace captures the best of Reformed piety in connecting these twin con­cerns when he states "Ladders are always intimidating, and it is my suspicion that Christians should always.. as­sume that they start each day at the top of the ladder in contact with God and renew this assumption whenever they appear to have slipped a rung" (Dynamics of Spiritual Life, 19). A more helpful analogy than the ascending of a ladder is the recognition that because of God's gracious call to us in Christ Jesus, we belong to Him. We are in a rela­tionship that needs daily attention and deepening much as does a relationship to a spouse or close friend.

Lest I convey a distorted perspective that we have minimal responsibility for "growing in godliness" (a favorite term of the Puritans for the sanctification process), I wish to emphasize that we do indeed need to work out our sal­vation. The crucial distinction between Reformed and other spiritualities is that our role is to cooperate and fol­low the guidance and encouragement of the Spirit rather than barge ahead with our own effort. Ultimately it is God who gives the growth (1 Cor. 3:6), not we, or any slick combination of spiritual disciplines or techniques This is not to minimize the value of disciplines but merely to place them within the proper context. For the Puritans, the prac­tices of Scripture, meditation, prayer, and self-examination were employed regularly. Nonetheless, the danger remains that people may become so preoccupied in the practice of any given discipline that they lose the focus that these are to be "means of grace" that place us more fully at God's disposal and not a matter of self-achievement. Eugene Pe­terson articulates the proper balance of cooperating with God's grace as he discusses the "middle voice" in the Greek language. Speaking of this synergistic interplay he writes: "I enter into the action begun by another, my creating and saving Lord.and find myself participating in the results of the action" (The Contemplative Pastor, 110).

A third implication of grace for a Reformed piety is a renewed understanding of the sacraments, in particular the Lord's Supper. We gather around the Table not because we are worthy but simply because by grace we are made welcome participants through Christ who serves as our gracious host.

It is no secret that Zwingli and his austere under­standing of the Eucharist have exerted more influence on our contemporary practice than that of Calvin. It was al­ways Calvin's desire to celebrate the Supper at least weekly and preferably whenever the church gathered. Sadly, he could never convince the leaders during his first or second periods of ministry in Geneva to more than a quarterly observance. However, during his three years at Strasbourg, the Supper was celebrated monthly. Henry Scougal reflected a similar concern and recommended "the frequent and conscientious use of that holy sacrament which is peculiarly appointed to nourish and increase the spiritual life, when once it is begotten in the soul" (The Life of God in the Soul of Man, 133). The Eucharist, as a primary means of grace, facilitates both within our head and heart the much-needed experience of belonging to Christ. Hence the value of frequent celebration of the Lord's Table. It is a welcome sign thatchurches within the Reformed tradition are increasing their celebration of communion to monthly and even occasionally weekly observance of this meal of grace.

There are many faces and dynamics to the Lord's Sup­per. However, it seems that all too frequently our celebra­tions are cast more in the sacrificial-penitential mode. Most likely this reflects the pietistic influence of American revi­valism. The myopic danger of this practice is to reduce the full experience of grace that is inherent in the Supper. Re­formedpiety, if it is to be true to the Scriptures and toits heritage, needs to reclaim a more expansive and balanced practice of the Eucharist. Not only does the Supper contain
the much-needed dynamic of joy that is often in short sup­ply in many Reformed congregations; it can also summon us to live by gratitude and to address the tendency to greed and competition that is all too evident among us.

Returning to a more frequent celebration of the Supper would enable the church to recover the balanced pattern of word and sacrament. Such an observance declares the word in both its verbal and visual forms. This introduces a fourth expression of grace that devotes greater awareness to biblical imagery and symbols. Unfortunately, the early reformers' severe reaction against many of the unhealthy abuses of the sixteenth-century Roman church led to their extreme rejection of the arts, music, and symbols. Being cognizant of their context perhaps enables us to fathom their overly protective stance. However, not everyone went to the same degree of dismissing the value of imagery. Calvin brings us back in touch with the dynamic quality of figurative language when he contends

the only answer becoming to a theologian: that al­though a figurative expression, is less precise, it ex­presses with greater significance and elegance what, said simply and without figure, would have less force and address. Hence figures are called the eyes of speech, not because they explain the matter more easily than simple ordinary language, but because they win atten­tion by their propriety and arouse. the mind by their luster, and by their lively similitude so represent what is said that it enters more effectively into the heart. (The Clear Explanation of Sound Doctrine concerning the True Partaking of the Flesh and Blood ofChristin theHoly Supper [1561], in Calvin: Theological Treatises [Library of Chris­tian Classics, vol. 22, p. 319])

The Puritans captured and emphasized this principle more fully. To assist their people in meditation they were encouraged to make lively and vivid use of imagination and biblical imagery. Richard Baxter provides a repre­sentative sampling:

And the more seriously thou puttest this supposition to thyself, the more will thy meditation elevate thy heart. Do not, like the Papists, draw them in pictures, but get the liveliest picture of them in thy mind that thou possi­bly canst, by contemplating the scripture account of them, till thou canst say, "Methinks I see a glimpse of glory." (Saints Everlasting Rest, 388)

Some might object to this practice, believing it weakens or alters the Scriptures. Others might rightly remind us that Calvin and the Puritans tended to be more apophatic, that is, believing it was possible to experience God directly, eliminating the senses or any external aids. I would con­tend, however, that there is a real need and even consis­tency within the Reformed tradition for the kataphatic ap­proach, which encourages the use of senses and images for perceiving God. While extremes abound in any aspect that is considered, we need to realize that objective truth is grasped more quickly and retained much longer if illus­trated. Additionally, we must acknowledge that the church is losing the battle in many areas of life. Ours is an image-laden society. Children, youth, and adults are mesmerized by videos, MTV, and films. The church needsto awaken to the formative dynamic of biblical imagery and symbols. Preachers must become more sensitive in crafting sermons and the use of language. Musicians and artists need to be encouraged to sing a new song or create a new piece of art to the Lord. Francis Schaeffer often articulated this very concern and bemoaned the fact that Christians had abdi­cated this influential expression of art and communication. Architecturally, our churches must reflect an integrity that reinforces, rather than deny, the gospel we seek to pro­claim from pulpit and table. The Holy Spirit can direct our use of imagery and prevent us from being swept away by fancy or flighty expressions to reinforce and etch the Scrip­tures more deeply into our souls.

Much of the foregoing centers on the internal dimen­sion of piety. But grace also connects us with the external responsibility that stimulates our daily lifestyle. This fifth principle challenges us to see grace not only as a gift we receive but as one that we freely express to others. Howard Hageman is correct when he clarifies this position.

Calvin never wearies in reminding us that the assurance of our belonging to Christ is to be found not only in our own inward feelings, but in the manner of our outward lives.... We have been fed at the Table so that we may be more effective agents of the gospel in the world. (Hageman in Frank C. Senn, ed., Protestant Spiritual Tra­ditions, 63)

Abraham Kuyper manifests this wholeness both in writing the enriching devotional To Be Near Unto God and in forming Christian labor unions and schools. Earlier, the reformers placed great emphasis upon alms-giving. Hughes Oliphant Old provides this example: "As in most of the Protestant cities of the Rhineland, public begging, even at the doors of the churches, was discontinued soon after the city accepted the Reformation. The care of the poor was to be taken care of in other ways" (Worship, That is Reformed According to Scripture, 153). Those other ways included the diaconal ministry as well as the collection.

We who have received the richness of God's grace must not horde it or assume it is ours to hold in isolation. The Puritans 'understood alms-giving as an extension of their gratitude to God. Like Kuyper, we must be sensitive enough to the social evils and ills of the world so that we might respond with the same compassion that we our­selves have tasted (2 Cor. 1:3-4). Rather than separation, grace challenges us to confront the world with the trans­forming power of Jesus Christ.

These reflections have merely scratched the surface and perhaps fail to do justice to the rich heritage and variations on the theme of Reformed piety. YetI have sought to raise the theme of grace as God's marvelous gift, freely lavished upon us. The more we are able as churches and individuals to recover and live into this grace that calls us into a lively union with Jesus Christ, the more we will be able to echo the strains of John Flavel; "Everything is well and shall be well, when all is well between us and God" (The Mystery of Providence, 183).