Lessons from an Old Theological Controversy
By
D. Patrick Ramsey
Introduction
Theological
controversies are nothing new. Acrimonious theological controversies are not
new either. One example of the latter occurred among the English Dissenters in
London at the end of the seventeenth century. This controversy lasted for
nearly a decade, and it focused primarily on the doctrines of justification and
the atonement. Unfortunately, it disrupted the newly formed union between
English Presbyterians and Congregationalists. My goal in this article, however,
is not to examine the theological issues of this debate. That has been done
elsewhere.[1] Instead,
I would like to focus on the manner of the debate, looking at how the two sides
engaged each other and how they sought to resolve their differences. There are several
lessons to be gleaned from this old controversy about how to, or perhaps more
accurately, how not to engage in public theological debate. I will draw out
five lessons, applying them to our own day and age.[2]
Know When to Run
The
history of this old controversy itself provides an important lesson, which may
be summed up by the words of a country song, The Gambler: “You’ve got to know when to hold ’em, know when to
fold ’em, know when to walk away, and know when to run.”
In
1690 the Presbyterians and Congregationalists joined forces to help one another
financially with a common fund and then corporately in 1691 by uniting the
ministers together on the basis of a doctrinal document. This latter union was
well received by many. Matthew Mead took the occasion to preach a sermon on
Ezekiel 37:19 entitled, Two Sticks Made
One: Or the Excellency of Unity. Unfortunately, the celebration didn’t last
long because a theological controversy that had already been brewing, in part
due to the reprinting of the sermons of Tobias Crisp in 1690, would wreak havoc
upon the Union.
Besides
the lecture hall, the debate played itself out in the public eye via the
printing press. Although a number of people wrote on the issues, including
Richard Baxter shortly before he died in 1691, it was the book by Daniel
Williams (Gospel-Truth Stated and
Vindicated) that became the center of debate. In this book, Williams
attacked the views of Tobias Crisp, but many Congregationalists (correctly)
believed it was aimed at them. They also believed that Williams went too far
and expressed unorthodox views himself. In response, Isaac Chauncy published a
lengthy reply to Williams in three parts entitled Neonomianism Unmask’d.
Williams responded to the first part with his A Defense of Gospel-Truth, only to be answered by Chauncy’s A Rejoynder. Robert Traill also entered
the fray when he published anonymously A
Vindication of the Protestant Doctrine Concerning Justification, and of its
Preachers and Professors from the unjust charge of Antinomianism. This
displeased a number of Presbyterians who had recommended Williams’ book and so
they prevailed upon William Lorimer to pen a book length response to Traill, An Apology for the Ministers Who Subsribed
only unto the Stating of The Truths and Errours in Mr. Williams’ Book.
Many
more books and pamphlets kept rolling off the presses, even after all forms of
cooperation between the two sides were severed by 1695. People on both sides
kept responding and replying to one another so that one gets the impression
that all parties were fueled by the need for self-vindication, which could only
be accomplished by having the last word.
In
reflecting upon the numerous writings of Isaac Chauncy, the Congregationalist
historians, David Bogue and James Bennett, remarked: “for what controversialist
will be outdone.”[3] A true
statement indeed, not only of Chauncy, but also of Williams and the
others. And it is equally true of
theological controversialists today. The temptation to defend ourselves or to
defend our critiques continuously is a clear and present danger. Publishers and
editorial policies are helpful in this regard because they compel us to stop. But
now with the internet the safeguards are removed in many cases and we are free
to post our reviews, responses, defenses, further defenses, rejoinders,
surrejoinders and so on.
One
lesson then that we ought to learn from this past controversy is to know when
to fold ’em and when to run away. We need to learn to put to death the desire
to have the last word. After all, God’s truth will triumph and its success is
not dependent upon our relentless and unending barrage of articles, posts,
podcasts and tweets. This is not to say, of course, that all prolonged public
debate is to be dismissed. The English dissenters spent a good deal of time
debating the issues in order to maintain their unity and to correct error. Surely,
that time was well spent even if it didn’t result in the desired outcome. And
yet wisdom dictates that there is a time when the public debate should end and
someone has to end it. But what controversialist will be outdone?
Over the Top
Although
this controversy involved godly ministers who were all part of the same but
broad Reformed family—most of them had even formally united together on the
basis of Reformed confessions—they did not treat one another very well during
their public debate. This debate among “friends” began with a bang and only
continued to get worse. Indeed, the caustic rhetoric and over the top charges
were at times out of control. There is no question that the manner of this
debate sullied the Dissenters’ name and cause.
Both
the Presbyterians and the Congregationalists were, of course, at fault for
infusing heat into the debate and for overreaching at times. Richard Baxter did
not help matters when he used the name Jezebel to refer to Tobias Crisp. Also,
Daniel Williams didn’t bring calm to the brewing storm when he went overboard
in his attack on Crisp, which was occasionally misguided. Still further, the charge of antinomianism
inflamed the debate. Nevertheless, the lion’s share of the blame belonged to
the Congregationalists, a point observed by several historians, including Bogue
and Bennett. The Congregationalists relentlessly went after Williams and
accused him of not only contradicting the Thirty-nine Articles and the
Westminster Standards on some doctrines but of heterodoxy and heresy:
Arminianism, Semi-Socinianism/Socinianism, Pelagianism and legalism or
justification by works. Williams was looked upon “as undermining the very
foundation of the Gospel,”[4]
and so was “run down, both from the pulpit and the press, as a notorious
heretic.”[5]
Isaac
Chauncy was particularly nasty. After noting that he had been reading books all
his life, Williams said that he had “never met with a Tract parallel to his
[Chauncy], for abusive Language, violent Rage and uncharitable Censures.”[6] Although
Williams was far from being an impartial observer, his comment should not be
quickly brushed aside because even a cursory reading of Chauncy’s book will
demonstrate that there is a large measure of truth to it. Bogue and Bennett
pointed out that Chauncy’s “spirit was bad, and his accusations against Dr.
Williams for heresy were numerous; but they were mostly as weak as they were
bitter.”[7] Chauncy
even coined a new term “Neonomianism” in order to “disgrace Dr. Williams’s
sentiments, and his book.”[8]
Of
all the heated writing produced by this controversy, and there was a lot of it,
J.I. Packer has observed that Robert Traill’s pamphlet was the best and the
coolest.[9] The
Presbyterians, however, did not share Packer’s assessment. In fact, Edmund
Calamy described it as “angry letter,”[10]
commenting that with its appearance “the hopes of a free brotherly
Correspondence vanish’d away.”[11] The
Presbyterians were furious with Traill in part because they understood him to
be accusing them of rationalism, Arminianism, Pelagianism, Popery and of
corrupting the gospel. At one point in his letter Traill presented himself and
his cohorts as being the true proclaimers and defenders of the gospel and the
Reformed faith; while the Presbyterians had imbibed Arminian schemes of the
gospel, vilified and contemned their opponents, and were probably closet
Pelagians and Arminians. Traill even suggested that their true colors would
soon be exposed and that the people they had “seduced by their craft” would
then turn on them.[12] Contrary
to Packer, Traill’s letter was anything but cool.
The
fact of the matter is that Williams and his fellow moderate Presbyterians such
as John Howe and William Bates were not Pelagians or Arminians. David Field has
recently shown that they were “committed to the fundamentals of a Calvinist
theology.”[13] Though
it may be true that they veered somewhat from some forms or formulas of
Calvinism, the Congregationalists overreached with their accusations of heresy,
which in turn made their heated rhetoric unnecessary, even ridiculous.
Unfortunately,
in-house theological debates do seem to bring out the worst in theologians. Robert
Traill noted, somewhat ironically as we have seen, that “it is a sad but true
observation, That no contentions are more easily kindled, more fiercely
pursued, and more hardly composed, than those of divines; sometimes from their
zeal for truth; and sometimes from worse principles, that may act in them, as
well as in other men.”[14] In
reflecting upon this statement Peter Toon quipped, “will theologians ever
learn?”[15]
Another
lesson then that should be gleaned from this controversy is that we need to be
careful to avoid using over the top language. Overreaching is a sign of a lack
of charity or incompetence or both. Consequently, it makes the accuser and his
position look bad. And if he is on the side of truth, then he, instead of his
message, will be the reason people stumble at the truth. Furthermore, if you
come out with both guns blazing then you will squelch constructive dialogue and
diminish the chances of an edifying resolution. This is not to say that you
shouldn’t argue your case or even that you shouldn’t do so vigorously. Present
your case well for what you believe and why you believe your opponent is in
error. But do so without the inflammatory and excessive language.
Sadly,
the use of exaggerated language in debate is something that we still witness
today. The internet surely has helped us
in this regard. In the 1690’s one had to wait for the next pamphlet to come off
the presses or for the next lecture to be given. But now the publication of
outrageous theological discourse is one click away. Peter Toon was right to
ask: will theologians ever learn?
The Personal Side of Polemics
One
of the striking yet sad features of this debate was the evident personal
animosity towards Daniel Williams. Although John Flavel also wrote against
Antinomianism, including some of the views of Tobias Crisp, he and his book did
not become the center of a decade long controversy. That honor belonged to
Williams. Ostensibly, the reason the Congregationalists lashed out at Williams
was that he went beyond refuting antinomian doctrines and added his own
unbiblical ones. To borrow the words of Robert Traill, they were motived by a
“zeal for truth.” While there is no reason to doubt this, I do think it is fair
to say that this debate was not just about the truth. It was personal. People
didn’t merely dislike Williams’ views, they disliked him. The debate wouldn’t
have lasted as long as it did; it wouldn’t have been focused on Williams; and
it wouldn’t have been so acrimonious if it had been simply about defending the
truth amid error. Personal animosity infected the controversy from the
beginning. The details of this episode will bear this out.
Daniel
Williams’ views on the controverted subjects were well known before the
Presbyterians and Congregationalists joyfully joined together and the
publication of his book Gospel-Truth.
Furthermore, Williams was for the most part successful in his stated purpose of
avoiding contentious aspects of his teachings, or those of his fellow
Presbyterians, in his book. Yet, it sparked a firestorm. If zeal for the truth
were the whole matter, then Chauncy and company would not have joined the Union
in the first place and Williams’ book wouldn’t have set them off. But it did
and they continued to go after Williams in a vindictive manner. Chauncy
published a caustic and protracted critique wherein he accused Williams of
dishonesty among other things. New members were enrolled at Pinners-Hall for
the sole purpose of ousting Williams from the lectureship. Two months after his
dismissal, Williams had to endure a smear campaign as he was accused of sexual
immorality by some of his most ardent detractors. After an eight-week inquiry
he was fully vindicated.
By
no means was Williams alone in his views. Other moderate and leading
Presbyterians such as John Howe and William Bates were basically on the same
page theologically. Nonetheless, Williams took all the heat. An early attempt
at reunion was very short-lived in part because the Congregationalists believed
that the Presbyterians were determined to support Williams “in his Errors,”
despite the fact that Williams had subscribed to a document that was a
compilation of confessional passages addressing the controverted subjects.[16]
In another attempt at reunion, the Presbyterians asked and received from the
Congregationalists a list of errors that needed to be renounced. They then
added to it a number of errors concerning Antinomianism. The combined list was
unanimously accepted by the Presbyterians, including Williams, and sent to the
Congregationalists. This effort to bring both parties back together was
disregarded in part because it did not contain a renunciation of Williams.
Affirming confessional orthodoxy and repudiating heterodoxy and heresy were
insufficient. A person, not just error, had to be denounced. This continued to be the case throughout the
controversy. Williams was the sticking point at every turn and attempt at
reunion. The debate was not just about defending the truth. It was deeply personal.
Divisive
personalities are not foreign to heated and protracted public disputes. But why
Williams, and not Howe or Bates, generated so much animosity is hard to tell
with any degree of certainty. Perhaps it was his ardent zeal to combat anything
that smelled of antinomianism, a trait acknowledged by his friends; or his role
as a leader among the Dissenters; or his Presbyterianism; or his personality;
or a combination of these and other factors. Regardless, the hostility directed
towards Williams was sinful and destructive in many ways. Besides the hurt it
inflicted upon Williams personally, the hatred his opponents had for him was a
major stumbling block to reconciliation. This was so because hatred produces an
inability to see the truth clearly. Unsurprisingly, Williams’ opponents
continued to misrepresent his beliefs even after his many clarifications and
explanations. Commenting upon 1 John 2:11, John Stott wrote: “Hatred distorts
our perspective. We do not first misjudge people and then hate them as a
result; our view of them is already jaundiced by our hatred.”[17] This
is the problem with the personal side of polemics. Disdain for a particular
individual will make you see heresy where there is no heresy; and it will keep
you from seeing your own erroneous judgments.
Another
lesson then that we need to learn from this controversy is to be on our guard
for hatred in our hearts toward our brethren with whom we vigorously disagree. Traill
was correct to note that theologians engage in debate out of zeal for truth but
also “sometimes from worse principles.”[18] How
can we know if we are acting out of “worse principles”? Well, wise friends
should be able to give us an honest evaluation. Also, we could check for
possible signs of hatred such as overreaching and a constant need to critique a
particular person. Unfortunately, if hatred is our problem then we will
probably be deaf to our friends and blind to any signs. So perhaps the best
thing to do is to do what we are already commanded to do, namely, love. Focus
on loving your opponent. Love will dissipate any hatred you might have in your
heart. It will also enable you to see clearly and so become a good
controversialist. As Stott has written, “It is love which sees straight, thinks
clearly and makes us balanced in our outlook, judgments and conduct.”[19]
Thus,
the way to combat the personal side of polemics is to get personal. Don’t
merely spend time getting to know the views of your opponent, get to know your
opponent. If possible, spend time with him. Pray for him and his family. Serve
him. Love him. During the 1540’s John Calvin and Heinrich Bullinger exchanged
some heated letters debating the meaning of the Lord’s Supper. However, they
were able to unite together rather quickly around a joint statement (Consensus
Tigurinus) in 1549. According to Diarmaid MacCulloch, what helped bring them
together was Bullinger’s gentle and pastoral ministry to Calvin after his wife
had died.[20] A
concrete and meaningful act of love changed the dynamic in their relationship
and enabled them to constructively work out their theological differences. More
recently, I heard about two Reformed churches that were at odds with one
another theologically, which in turn created tension in the Presbytery. One of
the churches noticed that the other church had a need and decided to meet it
with a generous gift of a beautiful piano. That act of kindness went a long way
in reconciling the two parties. Love, indeed, is a powerful antidote to the
acrimony generated from a theological controversy.
The
danger of personal animosity tainting theological debate is ever present. The
line between zeal for truth and hostility towards a brother or sister in Christ
is not always easily detected. So, watch and pray, and put on love, being eager
to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.
Party Spirit
If
a theological debate has been infected with personal animosity and filled with
over the top accusations and charges, then you will most likely find a party
spirit, which will only further enflame the controversy. Like everyone else,
theologians do not tend to denounce their friends in public even if they
disagree with them, and they tend to support them publicly when they are
charged with serious error or called heretics. This is true, not only for our
personal friends, but also for our theological, institutional and
ecclesiastical friends. We naturally circle the wagons when someone on our side
of the aisle comes under heavy fire. By the same token, we do not hesitate to
go after someone who is not a personal friend or part of our group. While we
may like to think that we are solely motivated by a holy zeal for the truth,
our actions often reveal otherwise. We are not so different from the saints in
Corinth as we would like to believe (1 Cor. 1:10-17; 3:1-ff). The debate
between the Dissenters in the 1690’s is a perfect example of a theological
controversy mired down by a party spirit.
Sixteen
Presbyterians endorsed the first edition of Daniel Williams’ controversial book
Gospel-Truth. Williams attempted to
get some Congregationalists to endorse it but they all declined, including
Matthew Mead who had originally expressed his agreement with it. Incidentally, one of the reasons that
Williams gave for seeking endorsements was that “People do oft value Names more
than Arguments.”[21] Judging
from the endless book endorsements that we find today on the cover and the
inside pages, it doesn’t seem that much has changed. Nevertheless, that only
the Presbyterians endorsed Williams’ book was a sign of things to come and
evidence that people were already sticking together along party lines.
Once
the controversy exploded with the publication of Gospel-Truth, the Presbyterians rallied around Williams. The second
edition contained forty-nine signatures, an increase of thirty-three. Encouraged by a number of ministers, William
Lorimer wrote an entire book to vindicate Williams and the Presbyterians who
had signed his book. Several other books and pamphlets were published in
defense of Williams. After Williams was ousted from the lectureship at Pinners’
Hall, the remaining Presbyterian lecturers walked out with Williams and started
a rival lectureship at Salters’ Hall even though the Congregationalists pleaded
with them to stay. There they were joined by Samuel Annesley and Richard Mayo.
It is noteworthy that Annesley joined Williams at Salters’ Hall because he had
not endorsed Williams’ book and is considered to be a high Calvinist. Undoubtedly,
Annesley differed with Williams on some things, yet he chose to side with his
fellow Presbyterian over against the Congregationalists. Indeed, Annesley was
not the only Presbyterian who would have differed from Williams on some
matters. Yet, they all stood with him even when it meant they had to sacrifice
reunion with the Congregationalists.
The
Congregationalists also supported one another. After Chauncy and some other
Congregationalists expressed their displeasure with Williams to the United
Ministers, an attempt at reconciliation was made. A doctrinal statement
focusing on the controversial issues was put together and subscribed to by both
Chauncy and Williams. Unity, however, was not forthcoming because a further
statement was accepted, which indicated that the United Ministers had not
endorsed everything in Williams’ book as well as Chauncy’s writings on this
controversy. Some Congregationalists saw this as a rebuke to Chauncy, leading
them to believe that it was the “firm purpose of the Governing Party of the United Ministers, to Uphold and Justifie
Mr. Williams in his Errors.”[22] The
Congregationalists thus rallied around Chauncy even as they believed the
Presbyterians were rallying around Williams.
The
party spirit may also be seen in the way they treated one another. Like Thomas
Manton, and many others, Daniel Williams knew and consequently greatly
appreciated Richard Baxter. Thus, when Chauncy cited a passage from Baxter’s
writings in order to question Williams’ own orthodoxy, Williams unsurprisingly
read Baxter in a positive light, even though he admitted that Baxter didn’t
always express his views well and that he didn’t always agree with Baxter.
Williams, however, did not treat Crisp in the same way. He wrote an entire book
on Crisp’s errors and tore to shreds every infelicitous phrase. What Williams
gave, he received in abundance from Chauncy and Traill. They defended Crisp and
recommended his writings without embracing all of his expressions, and they
(mostly Chauncy) wrote voluminous material against Williams, wherein they
interpreted his statements in the worst possible light.
The
party spirit that reared its ugly head in the 1690’s is sometimes seen today
and one problem with it is that it clouds our judgment. Our admiration for our
friends and mentors keeps us from seeing or at least being willing to properly
address and if necessary, publicly reject their errors. We can go to great and
complex lengths in order to keep our mentor and friends within the bounds of
confessional orthodoxy; and we can become eerily silent when they make
outlandish statements that ought to be unequivocally rejected.
Another
closely related problem is partiality. We go soft on those in our group and
harsh with those who are not. We overlook a multitude of sins for our friends
and shine the light on the tiniest of infractions of our opponents. We don’t
utter a word about the tone and temper of those on our side, even though
everyone else notices how bad it is, but then we are quick to rebuke our
opponents for their sinful tone and temper. We trust and think the best of
those who are in our camp, even when they make questionable theological moves;
but we are suspicious and think the worst of those who are not, especially when
they refuse to throw their controversial friends and mentors under the bus.
How
then are we to deal with a party spirit in theological controversy? Well, it is
probably worth pointing out the obvious that it is not wrong to have friends
and to treat them in a friendly manner. Fellowship with people of like mind and
heart is indeed sweet. Nor is it wrong for people to align with one side or
another of a controversy because of shared beliefs. The problem is not parties per se, but a party spirit. And the way
to deal with that is the same way we need to deal with personal animosity. We
need to love our theological opponents.
As
I have reflected upon this old controversy and as I observe current ones, I
have often wondered what would happen if people treated their theological
opponents in the same way they treated their theological friends. I dare say
that most theological debates would disappear, at least from the public sphere.
Certainly, the rush to publish a biting critique on Facebook, Twitter or a blog
would slow down since we don’t normally do that sort of thing to our friends. But
even if we did continue to debate publicly, our conversations would be more
edifying because we would go out of our way to understand one another, and we
would be careful not to go overboard. Perhaps we need to treat our friends more
like our opponents and our opponents more like our friends. Regardless, we need
to truly love friend and foe alike.
Love
speaks the truth in love. It does not flatter or tear down. Love is also
universal and impartial. It isn’t kind to one group of people and ruthless to
another. Love loves all. It, therefore, is not only a powerful antidote to
personal animosity, it is also strong enough to wipe out the nefarious effects
of a party spirit.
Broaden Your Horizons
The
Presbyterians and the Congregationalists had an extremely difficult time
working through their theological differences. There are a number of reasons
for this, some of which we have already considered, but one was that they
approached the issues from opposite perspectives. Our theological views, or at
least our theological emphases and expressions, are in part shaped and informed
by our understanding of the times in which we live. What we see as threatening
problems in the church will influence, not only what we believe, but how and
how often we articulate our beliefs. The reverse is true as well. Our
theological opinions and proclivities will affect our vision of the major
problems plaguing the church. The opposing perspectives of the two parties of
this old controversy impaired their view of each other, making it nearly
impossible to work out their differences.
The
chief problem that Daniel Williams saw in his own circles was that of
Antinomianism. He believed that this was a serious theological error and that
it was making inroads among the Dissenters including several ministers. As a
pastor, he was more concerned for the laypeople than the ministers who
advocated this error because the latter “have Grace to preserve their Minds and
Practices,” but the former had “no such Antidote.”[23]
As a churchman, Williams was grieved by the schism created by Antinomianism. He
reported that “faithful Ministers [like William Bates and even the
Congregationalist Matthew Mead] were deserted as Legalists, Churches divided,
and Town and Country filled with Debates and Noise.”[24] Furthermore,
he was anxious to protect the reputation of the Dissenters. Antinomianism in
those days was tied, rightly or wrongly, to moral and social chaos. In order to
protect their present liberty and to maintain the slight hope of rejoining the
Church of England, Williams wanted to make it crystal clear that he and his
colleagues had nothing to do with Antinomianism. For a host of reasons, then,
Williams strongly believed that it was necessary to go after Antinomianism and
go after it with vigor. Consequently, his formulations of various doctrines
were designed to counter this error.
Robert
Traill, on the other hand, saw things quite differently. He didn’t think
Antinomianism was on the rise at all. After scouring the scene, he confidently
declared that he didn’t know “any one Antinomian minister or Christian in
London.”[25] In
fact, he believed that the far more common danger is and always will be
Arminianism because it is “far more natural to all men.” He acknowledged that
some people in the past had been seduced by Antinomianism and maybe some in his
own day, but he believed that this error “is but a meteor or comet, that will
soon blaze out, and its folly will be quickly hissed off the stage.”[26]
The real danger that the church always needs to be on the lookout for is
Arminianism, and Traill saw the Presbyterians as one of the purveyors of it in
his own day. As a pastor, he was deeply concerned to defend the gospel and to
protect laypeople from a corrupt gospel. In addition, he believed that the
Presbyterians were creating trouble with their treatment of the
Congregationalists. For similar reasons as Williams, then, Traill believed it
was necessary to go on the offensive against the Arminian doctrine of the
Presbyterians. Also, as was the case with Williams and Antinomianism, Traill’s
formulations of various doctrines reflected his singular focus against
Arminianism.
Opposites,
in this case, didn’t attract. Anti-Arminian doctrine looked suspiciously like
Antinomian doctrine to an Anti-Antinomian such as Williams; while
Anti-Antinomian doctrine looked like Arminian/Neonomian doctrine to an
Anti-Arminian such as Traill. Thus, when they looked at each other they didn’t
see a mistaken view that should co-exist within a broad Reformed family; they
saw a dangerous error afflicting a vulnerable church that needed to be
eradicated at all costs. What do we do in such a volatile situation? We need to
broaden our horizons in at least three areas.
First,
we need to force ourselves to look at the issues from our opponents’
perspective and carefully consider and address their concerns. If we are not in
tune with what is driving our opponents and vice
versa then discord, rather than harmony, will be the order of the day. This
is what happened to the Presbyterians and Congregationalists at the end of the
seventeenth century in London.
After
a failed attempt at reunion, the Presbyterians, tried again by asking the
Congregationalists the reasons for their departure. The Congregationalists
responded with a list of errors related to Arminianism that they believed
needed to be rejected. The Presbyterians received them but also wanted their
own concerns addressed and so added to the list a number of errors pertaining
to Antinomianism. They then sent the full list of errors to the
Congregationalists. The Congregationalists, however, ignored this communication
because they firmly believed that Arminianism was the only problem. They were
convinced that the Presbyterians needed to reject Arminianism, but that they
were under no obligation to repudiate Antinomianism. Their utter disregard for
the theological concerns of the Presbyterians was unloving as it was unwise. It
displayed contempt for the Presbyterians and cast a shadow upon their own
orthodoxy. Consequently, it further damaged their relationship and the
likelihood of reunion. Eventually, the Congregationalists did address the issue
of Antinomianism with a tract in 1699 but only after it was far too late.
The
second way we need to broaden our horizons is in regard to our own outlook and
ministry. Our theology will be skewed or
unbalanced if we are focused on one particular error (or truth). For example,
in the arena of soteriology, if our chief (or only) concern is Arminianism, as
it was for the Congregationalists, then we will tend to stress the sovereignty
of God to the detriment of human responsibility. By the same token, if we
primarily worry about Antinomianism, as it was for the Presbyterians, then we
will tend to stress human responsibility to the detriment to the sovereignty of
God. The truth of the matter is that we need to be equally concerned about both
errors. Anthony Burgess once insightfully said that every person has a Pope and
an Antinomian “in his belly.”[27]
If the Congregationalists had been as concerned about Antinomianism as they
were about Arminianism, and the Presbyterians as concerned about Arminianism as
they were about Antinomianism then the two sides might well have been able to
reconcile their differences.
A
third and final way we need to broaden our horizons is to recognize and
tolerate different formulations of Christian doctrine. In his final book on
this controversy, Williams noted that the Congregationalists and Presbyterians
formulated the doctrine of justification differently. But he also recognized, particularly in light
of the Congregationalists’ tract repudiating Antinomian errors, that they did
not differ from each other as much as some “weak persons” suggested.[28] However,
for the two parties to come together, especially on the matter of
justification, they both had to be willing to recognize their differences as
minor and be willing to tolerate them. Unfortunately, there were many in this
debate that were reluctant or unable to do that.
One
of the key lessons that I have learned from my historical studies is that the
Reformed tradition is much broader than I had once thought. The Reformed didn’t
always agree with one another and not just on secondary matters but also on
important and fundamental doctrines like justification, atonement and Theology
Proper. Unity, in the presence of disagreement, will thus require a certain
amount of breadth and toleration. This is as true in the seventeenth century as
it is today.
When
the going gets tough in theological controversy, the tough get some
perspective. They look at the issues
from their opponents’ point of view and consider their concerns. They are
careful to avoid being one sided in their theological views and pastoral
ministry. And they are willing to tolerate differences within acceptable
limits. In short, good controversialists, broaden their horizons.
Conclusion
The
controversy that tore apart the union between the Presbyterians and
Congregationalists in London was a low point in the history of English
Dissenters. This is true, not so much for the matter of the debate as for the
manner of it. People on both sides did not conduct themselves well, to say the
least. It is a sad but true fact that Christians do at times treat each other
in the most despicable way and the damage done to the name of Christ, to the
truth and to one another is real and long-lasting.
This
sad episode from the 1690’s, however, is not irredeemable. Since we are sinners
who continue to debate the same important biblical truths, we are able to learn
from their example and so, by the grace of God, learn not to repeat their
mistakes. In this essay, we have gleaned a number lessons, which if taken to
heart, will hopefully be of some use in our current debates and controversies.
[1] Peter
Toon, Puritans and Calvinism (
[2] The bulk
of this material originated as a series of articles posted at www.meetthepuritans.com.
[3] David
Bogue and James Bennett, History of
Dissenters (London: 1808), 1:405.
[5] Walter
Wilson, The History and Antiquities of Dissenting
Churches (London: Walter Wilson, 1808), 2:202.
[6] Daniel
Williams, “To the Reader,” in A Defense
of Gospel-Truth (London: John Dunton, 1693).
[7] Bogue
and Bennent, History, 1:404.
[8] Idem.
[9] J.I.
Packer, A Quest for Godliness: The
Puritan Vision of the Christian Life (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 1990), 158.
[10] Edmund
Calamy, An Historical Account of My Own
Life (London: Henry Colburn and Richard Bentley, 1830), 1:324.
[11] Edmund
Calamy, An Abridgment of Mr. Baxter’s
History of his Life and Times, 2nd ed. (London: John Lawrence,
1713), 516.
[12] Robert
Traill, The Works of Robert Traill
(1810; reprint
[13] David
P. Field, Rigide Calvinisme in a Softer
Dresse (Edinburgh: Rutherford House, 2004), 161.
[14] Traill,
Works, 1:253.
[15] Peter
Toon, Puritans and Calvinism, 100.
[16] [Richard
Taylor], A History of the Union Between
the Presbyterian and Congregational Ministers in and about London; and the
Causes of the Breach of it (London: 1698), 22.
[17] John
Stott, The Letters of John, Rev. Ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1988), 100.
[18] Traill,
Works, 1:253.
[19] Stott, The Letters of John, 100.
[20]
Diarmaid MacCulloch, The Reformation: A
History (New York, Penguin Books, 2003), 251.
[21]
Williams, “To the Reader,” in Defense.
[22]
[Taylor], A History of the Union, 22.
[23] Daniel
Williams, “To the Reader,” in Gospel-Truth
Stated and Vindicated: Wherein some of Dr. Crisp’s Opinions Are Considered; And
The Opposite Truths Are Plainly Stated and Confirmed (London: John Dunton,
1692).
[24] Daniel Williams,
“To the Reader,” in A Defense of
Gospel-Truth (London: John Dunton, 1693).
[25] Traill,
Works, 1:281.
[26] Ibid,
1:279.
[27] Anthony
Burgess, A Vindication of the Morall Law
and the Covenants (London: James Young for Thomas Underhill, 1646), 47.
[28] Daniel
Williams, An End to Discord (London:
John Lawrence, 1699), 98.