Reformation Day 2009
Covenant Bible Church held its 4th Annual Reformation Day Conference on church history on November 7 & 8, 2009.
Dr. Lyle Bierma, Professor of Systematic Theology at Calvin Theological Seminary in Grand Rapids, Michigan, was the featured speaker. His lectures on the history and theology of the Heidelberg Catechism included "The Background of the Heidelberg Catechism," "The Beauty of the Heidelberg Catechism" and "Romans 8 and the Reformation." CBC will be offering a CD set of these lectures together with a CD containing Power Point presentations on these topics, maps, photos and a Power Point presentation on
"Why Confessions?"
For more information, watch this space or contact us at (907) 746-2123 or by email at session@covenantbiblechurch.com.
The CD set, Spheres of Sovereignty, containing Ben House's 2008 lectures and a bonus CD on the life of Abraham Kuyper, is still available, either from Canon Press or from Covenant Bible Church. The set retails for $12.
St. Anselm - His Faith
1033 – 1109
Part One
A brief biography prepared for Anselm Presbytery
of the
Confederation of Reformed Evangelical Churches
October, 2006
Jack E. Phelps
Unlike the doctrines of the Trinity and the Person of Christ, which stirred the early church and led to the convening of the great ecumenical councils, Biblical teachings on redemption did not become a focus of theological debate (except as a sub-point under the Incarnation) until the late eleventh and early twelfth centuries, AD. When the Church needed orthodox guidance on the question however, God, in his providence, provided a man to articulate the doctrine clearly and powerfully.
After Anselm succeeded Lanfranc as archbishop of Canterbury, he spent several years working on his Cur Deus Homo. It was probably published in final form in 1098. In it, Anselm argued that the absolute necessity of the atonement was grounded in the honor of God. It was not merely God’s love which motivated the atonement, but the necessity of restoring the honor of God, which had been affronted when man refused to submit his will perfectly to God’s will. Either punishment or satisfaction must necessarily follow, so for God to save anyone, satisfaction was demanded by the very character of God. The need for complete reparation required that the one making the atonement be no less than God. But, likewise, because it was man who stood in need of making amends, the act of atonement must be made by man. Thus the title of the work, “Why God Became Man.” According to Anselm, the incarnation was the only solution available, given the dilemma.
The great strength of Anselm’s doctrine of redemption is its insistence that the doctrine rests on the immutable nature of God. It also unequivocally establishes the objective nature of the atonement. Its weakness is in its failure to include the relationship of Christ’s life to the atonement and the absence of any doctrine of the mystical union between Christ and the believer.
Anselm was a defender of orthodoxy on other key theological topics as well. During his first banishment from England because of his stand against abuses of the church, he ably defended the filioque clause of the Nicene Creed against the demands of the Eastern church at the Council of Bari (1098). He also wrote important works on proofs of the existence of God. As an Augustinian, he taught the basic harmony of reason and revelation, and from this foundation constructed his ontological proof for the existence of God. In effect, he said that since man cannot conceive of a higher, more perfect being than the Christian God, that God must, indeed, exist. If such a being can be thought of, it must actually exist.
An important short work on man’s will also came from Anselm’s pen, De Libertate Arbitrii (On Free Will). For Anselm, true freedom of the will is to be driven internally toward “rectitude.” Therefore, the first sinful act of Adam and Eve, while spontaneous, was not an act of true freedom. As a result, true freedom was lost at the fall when man became enslaved to sin.
Anselm conceived of original sin as “natural sin.” That is, not natural as of the original creation, but the natural condition of each individual human in the world that has resulted from the fall. The whole race sinned, because it was seminally present in Adam, but man does not inherit the specific sin of his immediate ancestors. Yet the guilt and pollution of sin are passed from father to child in every generation. Anselm’s teaching on the fall was consistent with Augustine’s and anticipated the covenantal formulations of the Reformation. He taught that in Adam, original (“natural”) sin resulted from his act of sin, while in his posterity the guilty acts of sin proceed from the “natural” (original) sin. With original sin, man lost the capability of self-determining holy behavior and became enslaved to sin (hence losing “true freedom”).
Anselm’s epistemology was Augustinian to the core. His dictum was essentially, “I believe, and from that I will be able to understand.” Truth, though an object reality, may only be found through “faith seeking understanding.” Opposed to this is the rationalistic apologetic so common today, which reflects Abelard’s, “I understand in order that I may come to believe.”
An able scholar, a defender of truth and orthodoxy, a courageous man of God, an articulate expositor; all these are elements that comprise the man, St. Anselm. Each of them separately and all of them collectively offer us, the men of Anselm Presbytery, a standard by which to measure ourselves and an example to follow in life and scholarship.
St. Anselm – His Life
1033 – 1109
Part Two
Being the second part of a brief biography
prepared for Anselm Presbytery
of the
Confederation of Reformed Evangelical Churches
October, 2007
Jack E. Phelps
I do not seek to understand in order that I may believe, but I believe in order that I may understand; for of this I feel sure, that if I did not believe, I would not understand.
__ Proslogium of Anselm
Consideration of the life of St. Anselm brings to the fore once again the question posed by historians throughout the ages: do his times forge the man or do men genuinely shape their times? Despite the pseudo-intellectual dilemma underlying the question, the answer is readily obvious to the orthodox Christian. Within the framework of God’s plan and providence, both answers are equally valid. Capable men rise to their times, yet their actions (or failures to act) are the secondary means by which God shapes history.
Consider the well-known case of Alexander. Granted he was well educated, possessed a keen intellect, a strong will, and a martial personality. Had the murder of Phillip of Macedonia occurred a decade earlier or a decade later, however, world conditions likely would not have been ripe for Alexander’s conquests and the course of Mediterranean history would have taken an entirely different turn. The question of Alexander’s complicity in the famous homicide is not relevant to the point. Different times, different outcome. By the same token, were Phillip’s son of a different demeanor or of lesser capability, history likewise takes a different turn.
So it is with the ecclesiastical crises that arose around the turn of the 12th century. When Anselm succeeded Lanfranc as prior of the monastery at Bec in 1063, a pattern was established that would repeat itself some 30 years later on the other side of the channel. After William the Conqueror defeated Harold at Hastings, he began a campaign of Normanization in England. Having had previous dealings with Lanfranc in Normandy, he established the former prior of Bec in the see of Canterbury in 1071.
Across the channel, the founding abbot of Bec, Herluin, died in 1078. Anselm was elected to take his place and the stage was set for him to follow in Lanfranc’s path. The choice of Anselm for the leadership of the abbey and subsequently for the archbishopric at Canterbury, put a decisive and indelible stamp on the course of church history. With his writings and his actions, Anselm became both the voice of Augustinian orthodoxy and the standard of moral courage for his troubled times.
Disputes with Kings
It seems unlikely that Anselm ever formulated the situation in Calvinian terms, but during the years of his maturity, he was consistently cast in the role of prophet to the State. The first controversy was with William II, beginning in 1092. The second was with Henry I and lasted four years (1103 – 1107) culminating in the Concordat of London.
Anselm and the Red King
During his years at Bec, Anselm became well known both on the Continent and in England, where the abbey owned considerable real property. He was respected for his theological insights revealed through his writings, and he was beloved because of his sensitive spirit and his gentle manner. After Lanfranc’s death in 1089, William II (Rufus) left the see of Canterbury open and the rents accrued to the Crown.
Reluctantly bowing to pressure from both the king (who was ill) and the bishops and nobles of the region, Anselm agreed to become Archbishop of Canterbury in 1093. Difficulties emerged almost immediately and centered around two issues: which pope would be officially recognized in England and upon whose authority did the privilege of investiture lie? Rufus was inclined to support Clement III, while Anselm, who was in favor of Hildebrand’s reforms and regarded Clement as no more than a pawn of Henry IV, maintained allegiance to Urban II. This difference led directly to the first investiture conflict between Anselm and Rufus.
William Rufus proposed that Anselm receive the pallium from Clement, which Anselm refused to do. Thereupon, the king claimed that he, himself, had the right to confer the vestment on his newly appointed archbishop. Again Anselm refused, asserting that not only was Urban II the legitimate pope, but that the appointment of church officials was the church’s business and not the king’s. After refusing permission for Anselm to travel to Rome to receive the pallium, and without telling Anselm, Rufus sent messengers to Urban who sent the pall to England in a silver case under the care of a papal legation. It was laid on the table at Canterbury and Anselm took it up without the king’s interference. Anselm’s stand on principle had prevailed, yet he allowed Rufus to save face.
The conflict between crown and mitre did not end there, however. With Urban II strongly opposed to the practice of the church paying homage to kings, Anselm’s contributions to the realm from the coffers of the see were well below the expectations of the king. Frustrated, Rufus threatened to put Anselm on trial in the royal court. Anselm stood his ground and refused to cede jurisdiction. Finally, he requested leave from the king to travel to Rome and consult with the pope. In 1097, Anselm left for Rome, but not before requesting an audience with the king and conferring upon him God’s blessing.
With Anselm out of the country, Rufus once again began appropriating to the crown revenue and property belonging to the church. Meanwhile, in Rome, Anselm conferred with Pope Urban II, who threatened to excommunicate Rufus. Anselm remonstrated with the pope and stayed his hand on this matter, but Urban issued an edict of anathema on all lay investiture and upon all the clergy who submitted to it. Forbidden by Rufus to return to England, Anselm remained on the continent, spending the majority of his time in the vicinity of Rome. During this exile of nearly three years duration, he participated in the important council at Bari, defending the procession of the Holy Spirit from the Father and the Son against the anti-filioque position of the Greek bishops. He also completed his important treatise on the incarnation, Cur Deus Homo.
Anselm and Henry I
During the summer of 1100, Rufus was killed by an arrow while hunting in one of the game preserves he had created by confiscating more than two dozen church cemeteries. He was not mourned and his body was buried without benefit of clergy. His younger brother took the throne as Henry I.
One of the first acts of the new monarch, who desired the favor of the influential clergy, was to recall Anselm from exile. The archbishop was not back in England long, however, before the investiture controversy arose once again. Henry sought to fill the 15 vacant church positions (11 abbeys and 4 bishoprics) with men of his own appointment and demanded that Anselm consecrate them. Anselm, obedient to the papal edict, refused. Delegations were sent to Rome asking Pope Pascal II to settle the matter, but when the pope upheld the rulings of his predecessor, Henry refused to comply. In 1103, Anselm himself traveled to Rome, together with an emissary from the king. Pascal II then excommunicated the bishops who had accepted their office from the king, but did not take the additional step of excommunicating Henry. It seems likely he was dissuaded from this further action by the urging of Anselm, just as Urban II had been.
Since neither Anselm nor the king had achieved an outcome that satisfied their concerns, Anselm remained in exile. The dispensation of mercy that Henry had received failed to have the effect Anselm might have wished for and Henry remained steadfast in his determination to retain the right of investiture claimed by both his father and his brother. At last, in 1105, Pascal II declared Henry excommunicated. This threat to his soul, together with the urgings of his wife who was beholden to Anselm, led the king to seek a conference with Anselm, which took place at Bec in the summer of 1106.
Anselm and the king reached agreement, secured the approval of Pascal II and the pact was finally ratified on August 26, 1106. The terms included the king surrendering any right of investiture in the future, restoring revenue seized from Canterbury during Anselm’s absence and renouncing claim to the revenues of vacant abbeys and bishoprics. The pope agreed to confirm the appointments made by Henry during the time of the controversy and to rescind the writ of excommunication against the king. The king was also given the right of nomination for future bishops, subject to church approval. Anselm then returned to England and consecrated the bishops who had been previously appointed.
The agreement of Bec resolved most of the difficulties between the church and the crown, but another year would pass before the investiture controversy was finally put to bed. In August of 1107, the Concordat of London was announced. According to the contemporary account of Eadmer who, like Anselm, was a Benedictine scholar, the meetings lasted three days and culminated in a public meeting with both Henry and Anselm in attendance. The king once and forever renounced the crown’s right of investiture. For the church’s part, Anselm declared that no clergy would “be deprived of consecration to the office to which he had been appointed because of his having done homage to the King.”
Thus was ended peacefully an important conflict that spanned decades of time and multiple regencies in both church and state. That it ended amicably with satisfaction on both sides is a tribute to the personal courage, the commitment to principle and the willingness to negotiate that were the operative characteristics of the man, Anselm. Having accomplished much, both in theology and in practice, that would benefit the church for centuries after his era, Saint Anselm passed into glory at Canterbury in April, 1109.
Selected references for further study:
“Anselm,” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, available online at: http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/anslem
Butler, Alban, The Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs and other Principal Saints, Volume 4 (London: Burns & Oats, 1996).
Eadmer, The Life of St. Anselm: Archbishop of Canterbury, R.W. Southern (trans.), (London: Thomas Nelson, 1962).
“St. Anselm,” Catholic Encyclopedia, available online at: http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/01546a.htm
Schaff, Philip, History of the Christian Church, Volume V (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1949).
Walker, G.S.M., The Growing Storm, (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1961).
Many of Anselm’s works, translated by Jasper Hopkins, are available online in pdf. format at: http://cla.umn.edu/sites/jhopkins
Otto Scott
May 26, 1918 – May 5, 2006
A Tribute
Jack E. Phelps
Otto Scott walked this earth for nearly 88 years. Born at the end of the Great War, he passed into the presence of his Maker on May 5, 2006. During those nearly nine decades, he influenced many people, including a large number who never met him, was respected by his peers, feared by leftists of all parties, and dearly loved by those who knew him best.
Otto’s life was as varied as it was fascinating. He grew up mostly in New York, but lived for some time in South America, including Caracas, where his father was an important official in the Venezuelan government. His father secured for him dual citizenship, which he retained all his life, believing that, as his father had said, “Someday it might be useful.” As a young man, he worked as a roustabout, a coffin maker and at various other occupations. He once told me that a number of his friends decided to go off and fight in the revolution in Spain and urged him to go with them. While he never lacked a sense of adventure, he decided that an internecine squabble in Iberia was none of his concern, so he stayed in America.
When his own country was threatened, however, it was quite another matter. He spent the dark years of World War II serving with the Merchant Marine, making several perilous crossings of the Atlantic during that conflict. He was on convoy in a North Sea storm, under threat of German attack, when, he said, the fierce forces of nature first caused him to realize that “God is no buttercup!”
In the Merchant Marines, Otto worked among a tough crowd. He spoke once about a certain first mate on one of his ships. The man was a bully. On shore leave, Otto offered to fight him over his treatment of the men. The fellow had two friends with him and Otto said, “I knew I was in for a beating.” But, in the face of Otto’s determination the three backed down and he had no further trouble with them. “Bullies are such cowards,” he told me.
Long time friends of Chalcedon will, perhaps, best remember Otto as a regular voice with R. J. Rushdoony on many Easy Chair tapes. With his business background and his vast array of life experiences, Otto provided a fascinating counterpoint to the profound theological and philosophical thinking of America’s pre-eminent 20th century theologian – Rush and Otto made a perfect pair for the types of discussions common to the Easy Chair chats in those days. Many affectionately referred to the productions as the “Rush ‘n Otto Show,” a comment that elicited a hearty laugh from both men. That their differing perspectives often had the effect of sharpening the thinking of each of them, there can be no doubt. But that the listeners also benefited greatly is likewise certain.
Otto Scott spent little time in formal schooling and never attended college – yet he was among the most educated of men. Early on, he found he could learn more by talking to adults and reading at the public library than from sitting in a classroom. Once, he was headed down the road to go fishing on a school day. The sheriff pulled up along side him and asked where he was going. He said, “I’m going fishing.” The officer told him to get into the car and Otto figured he was to be again confined in a schoolroom. But the sheriff drove to his own home and told Otto to wait in the car. He emerged a few moments later with his own pole and together they went fishing.
Otto was delighted by the growth of the home school movement. He saw its great benefit to families, but more importantly he saw it as the means to wrest the education of children away from the gruesome professionals who harm rather than improve the minds of the young. When he spoke to home school parents, he urged them to read broadly and to expose their children to good writing. He pointed them to authors like James Anthony Froude. Froude is often looked down upon by “professional” historians as being too simplistic. But Froude saw history through Christian eyes and to Otto that was of supreme importance.
Otto was a man of great energy, but he was also one of determined focus. After Buried Treasure was published, I pointed out to him that, in a way, it formed an interesting sequel to The Exception. Not only were some of the same people involved, but the story of Arch Minerals began in 1968, the same year with which he had concluded the narrative of Ashland Oil in the former book. He was surprised and said, “I hadn’t noticed that.” Not one to dwell on his accomplishments, his mind had already moved on to the next project.
Then there were the missed opportunities. Not situations passed over by Otto, but by men who lacked the vision and foresight to act when presented with an opportunity. Shortly after the first Gulf War, Raytheon was making headlines with the success of its Patriot missile. After discussing it with Otto and securing his permission, I contacted the upper management at Raytheon and suggested they hire Otto to write a sequel to Creative Ordeal. I pointed out that it would be good for the company and its shareholders and that if properly approached, the market would respond favorably to such a book. At the time, however, there had risen to the company leadership a “pharaoh who knew not Otto.” The suggestion was ignored.
The “sacred fool” books need hardly be mentioned. In Christian circles, they are the best known of Otto’s works. While he was never fully satisfied with Robespierre: The Voice of Virtue, it is among the most important of many volumes written on the tragic events of the French revolution because it unveils the stark insanity of the anti-Christian instigator of the Terror. Likewise, no one can read James I and ever again wonder at the steep decline of English civilization between the end of Elizabeth’s reign and the rise of Cromwell. And who can think the same about the origins of the War Between the States after reading about the collusion between the “six New England idiots” and John Brown?
In the past few days, as I have thought about my friend’s life and work, I have tried to isolate the most important lesson we can learn from him. I thought about his work ethic, his careful, Christian analyses of human events and foibles and his fierce determination to combat false ideas and the immense stupidity in the modern polis. Finally, I settled on the one thing that stood out above all the rest. Otto Scott taught us how to think about history as Christians and the importance of doing so. History is not, he believed, merely a long string of events, interconnected somehow, but random. It is, rather, the unfolding of the purposes of God, directed by His determined hand toward a final goal. He taught us also that men play an important role in the course of history – that a small number of determined people, dedicated unwaveringly to the cause of Truth can and will give the law to the many. We must heed this lesson.
Over the years, I had the privilege on several occasions of introducing Otto to various audiences. The first of these, in the 1980s, was at the Northwest Conference on Christian Reconstruction which, in those years, was held annually, alternating between Seattle and Portland. At the time, I recalled that G. K. Chesterton had once written about “men with chests,” by which he referred to men of purpose, character, strength and moral courage. Sadly, such men are all too uncommon today, even in Christian circles. But Otto was such a man, and as such I introduced him on that occasion. To this day, I believe it was a most fitting approbation.