On this Reformation Day, I’m reflecting on how I went from not even knowing the terms "Reformed" or "Calvinist" to being a distinctly Reformed theologian myself. Let me share a bit of my own background, what I’ve come to appreciate about Reformed theology, and encourage others to follow in the path I took, or at least to understand it.
I grew up, by God’s grace, in a Christian home and attended a Christian school from 6th–12th grade. I was raised in a conservative Lutheran church (Association of Free Lutheran Churches). In college I joined an Evangelical Covenant Church where I later worked as a youth director. I was fortunate to have always been in circles that were conservative, that is, they trusted the Bible, knew Jesus as LORD and Savior, and taught salvation by grace through faith in Christ alone.
One point of inconsistency in my Arminian (though I didn’t know the term then) traditions was the issue of salvation apart from works. I questioned teachers at my Christian school: if we are not saved by works, but we must choose to worship God and ask Jesus to save us, why is that choice not considered a "work"? No good answer was given, and the question faded into the background. While I was in college, I worked in campus ministry, and one of my friends who was a Reformed Baptist challenged me on the question (several times) of election and predestination. Eventually, I resolved that I didn’t know enough Scripture myself to answer it for sure. I decided to read the Bible cover-to-cover quickly, and I read it with one question in mind: does God predestine people to salvation?
Obviously, I became convinced of predestination, and the rest of the doctrinal dominos fell in line after that. What I find amazing even as I write this article is that I wasn’t convinced by my friend’s arguments for Reformed theology, or the books and sermons he suggested, or any other secondary source. I was convinced by the Bible itself, what God himself describes to us in his word concerning all that we need to know and understand for salvation.
3 Elements of Reformed Theology
That brings me to the heart of this article, which is what I’ve come to appreciate about Reformed theology. Let me offer three elements.
The first element is how I came to be Reformed myself: by constantly striving to be consistent with the Bible. While Reformed theology is by no means perfect, the desire and effort to change and adapt our theological views to more closely match Scripture is one of the great hallmarks of the Reformed faith. This isn’t to say all other theological strands disregard Scripture, of course, but there is a noticeable shift in thinking and argument from my past experiences in the Lutheran tradition. The most striking is Reformed theology’s refusal to explain away difficult passages. At my Christian high school, I heard people trying to find a way to make a passage fit their theology by using phrases such as, “what this really means is . . .” or “it sounds like____, but . . .” However, Reformed theologians embrace the tensions and difficulties in Scripture, digging deeper to understand it. The rigor of Reformed theologians to argue from Scripture alone has always struck me as their greatest strength and is far and away the most compelling piece for believing the doctrines of Reformed theology.
The second element that seems to set Reformed faith apart from others is the highest exaltation of God as holy and transcendent, and yet the graciousness of him coming down to us to be near to us poor sinners. Because Reformed theology asserts so vigorously that we can do nothing to merit our salvation, even so far as being able to choose on our own to follow Christ, the tension between God as "holy, holy, holy" and also dwelling in us only serves to showcase his grace more magnificently. These two attributes of God—his holy transcendence and gracious immanence—apparently opposite ends of the spectrum, can become muted or diminished when we attempt to make way for doctrines that allow us to come to God on our own, or doctrines claiming that we need to merit our salvation by mounding up good works. Much like a tent supported by a rope between two trees, the tension of both pieces being absolutely true and solid is necessary for the structure to exist. God must be high above and "holy, holy, holy" because he is God, and he has come down to us and become flesh to be near to us and unite us to Christ. Both are true, both are too wonderful for us to fully appreciate, and Reformed theology holds both to shine at their brightest without diminishing one or the other.
The rigor of Reformed theologians to argue from Scripture alone has always struck me as their greatest strength and is far and away the most compelling piece for believing the doctrines of Reformed theology.
The final element is the appreciation Reformed theology has for church history. One of the most difficult things I’ve watched is people "swimming the Tiber" and entering the Roman Catholic church simply because the Protestant church they had been a part of didn’t have answers to hard questions, whereas the Roman Catholic church had already answered such questions 200, 300, or even 900 years ago. This is most marked out in denominations (and especially non-denominational churches) that are relatively young and have failed to embrace our shared history as a church. As much as Reformed theology makes its arguments and cases from Scripture, we also see the grace of God in history as God has given church leaders and thinkers to apply Scripture to questions and challenges that appear throughout the ages. Later Reformed theologians take what is biblically solid from previous generations, reject what is not, and stand on the shoulders of those who have come before in order to build off their work in applying Scripture to life. The truth of the matter is that we Christians are always following the thinking of theologians in the past, whether we realize it or not. By recognizing this, we can evaluate what has been said, take the best of church history, critique the worst, and be confident in time-tested answers and doctrines always backed and approved by Scripture.
Overall, what Reformed theology has given me is a hope made ever more solid. I used to be afraid that if I said the wrong thing or messed up an answer to someone's question, I ran the risk of ruining their chances of coming to Christ because of my own shortcomings. While I still can get nervous when sharing the gospel, I can do it with far more confidence and faith that God is the one at work behind the words, and it is never going to be about how skillful I am in arguing, or how charismatic my personality is, but about speaking the truth of God’s word clearly: that we are all sinners, and Christ died for sinners. And what may come as a shock to those who don’t understand Reformed theology is that I can ask with confidence, “Do you believe that? Will you trust Christ for your salvation?” Because predestination includes both the salvation and the means (hearing and believing in faith the word of God, Rom. 10:17).
This confidence runs throughout every aspect of life and ministry. I can hope securely because that hope is anchored in Christ, not me. I can declare the gospel at the lunch table, in the breakroom, or from the pulpit knowing that God is the one working through his word. I can look to the future knowing that no matter how the culture fails and degenerates in front of my eyes, God will preserve his people and his church until he returns in glory.
So I ask you this: do you hold to Reformed theology? Do you have sticking points you struggle with? I encourage you on a first pass not to go straight to the books and sermons that are recommended in a Google search. Start with what is the only rule for life and faith, the Scriptures. Be honest with yourself about your questions and preconceived ideas. Then read with your question in mind. Ask, on the whole, what does the Bible say about these things? Let your Bible reading shape your thinking, and not your thinking shape your Bible reading. This is the intellectual heart of Reformed Theology: what did God say?