By Jim Sawyer
During my seminary career, although I majored in New Testament, I spent much time studying, particularly Historical Theology, and more particularly Reformed Theology in America. (In fact I went on to do my Ph.D. in Historical Theology.) Although I studied at Dallas Seminary, considered the bastion of Dispensationalism I did not buy wholly into the system. Instead I fell in love with the Princetonians: Charles Hodge, A.A. Hodge and particularly B.B. Warfield of whom it has been said had the theological mind of a Charles Hodge and a Wm. G.T. Shedd rolled into one. It is also said that after Jonathan Edwards, Warfield was the greatest theological mind ever produced in America. Warfield particularly had a razor-sharp mind and studied the positions of his theological opponents so he knew what they believed better than they did. As a result he could spot weaknesses in his opponents’ positions a mile (or more) away. He did not resort to name-calling, nor did he twist his opponents positions when involved in argument. Rather like Irenaeus the great second century opponent of Gnosticism thought the best way to discredit an opponent’s position was to give it a full exposition, working out the hidden assumptions and propositions. When this was done the opponent’s position would fall under its own weight, as discredited. I loved the logic and the clear thinking and the closely integrated system. In short it was supremely rational. The Princetonians also had a reputation for a warm personal piety (See Andrew Hoffecker, Piety and the Princeton Theologians).
Twenty-five years ago, when I was just starting my career as a Professor of Theology and I was doing research for my Ph.D. dissertation I traveled to New York City to read the Briggs Papers housed in the Library of Union Theological Seminary across the street from Colombia University at Broadway and 122nd I spent two weeks pouring over Briggs’ personal correspondence. Charles A. Briggs was Warfield’s great theological opponent in the 1880’s and 90’s with whom he battled over the question of biblical inerrancy. During my research, I discovered a darker side to the Princetonian tradition. That darker side involved an absolute devotion to the Westminster Confession as the pinnacle of theological achievement that could never be improved upon. Charles Hodge boasted that a new idea never arose at Princeton. Warfield, although a much better theologian than Hodge never wrote a systematic theology because he believed that his mentor’s Systematic Theology could not be improved upon. They adopted a mentality which Briggs labeled orthodoxism “Orthodoxism assumes to know the truth and is unwilling to learn; it is haughty and arrogant, assuming the divine prerogatives of infallibility and inerrancy; it hates all truth that is unfamiliar to it, and persecutes it to the uttermost.” St., near Harlem.
I also discovered a deep dichotomy between the head and the heart. Charles Hodge, as representative of the Princetonian position, displayed a great antipathy for any emphasis on the subjective nature of Christianity. At one point he stated: “The idea that Christianity is a form of feeling, a life, and not a system of doctrines is contrary to the faith of all Christians. Christianity always has a creed. A man who believes certain doctrines is a Christian.” (Biblical Repertory and Princeton Review 29:693.) This stress on the objective nature of the Faith has led to the charge that Princeton was rationalistic in its approach to Christianity. Numerous historians and theologians have contended that the Princetonians compartmentalized faith and life. For example, C. R. Jeschke states of the Princetonians:
The strict compartmentalization of formal theology and the life of piety that came to prevail at Princeton reflected in part the growing irrelevance of traditional modes of thought and inherited statements of faith for the needs of the church in a rapidly changing world. The fact that Hodge and his colleagues, like most of their contemporaries, were unaware of the sickness in the theological body, only permitted the condition to worsen, and heightened the reaction of the patient to the cure, when its true condition was finally diagnosed. (“The Briggs Case”, p. 56.)
Back to my discoveries in the Briggs papers, it was here that I saw the practical outworking of the Princetonian position. Briggs’ uncle, Marvin Briggs who had studied at Princeton Seminary had been soured on the whole mindset that surrounded the Princetonian pre-commitment to the Westminster Confession. While studying in Germany he writes to Marvin, “I have one course . . . on Systematic Theology which seems to be your detestation. However the subject is treated differently from what you had at Princeton. Prof. Dorner goes back to the Bible as his first step . . .” (B. T. 1:27). Several months later he wrote: “It is unfortunate for you that you were educated at Princeton where there is an incarnation of doctrine and everything is looked on from that standpoint. Here in Germany . . . everything is looked upon from a scriptural standpoint. The only difficulty is there is too little reverence for Scripture as the Word of God and too great an exaltation of human reason as arbiter over it” (B.T. 1:42. Underscoring original, italics added). Later in the same letter he characterized Princeton’s system as “pernicious.”
I also discovered that while the Princeton theologians themselves were able to maintain a warm personal piety with their commitment to the system, the graduates of Princeton were not. it is not too much to say that many even among the Old School read only the theological material of the Princetonians. This fact contributed to a cold creedal orthodoxy among a significant contingent of the Old School with its stress on pure doctrine. Even the great Greek grammarian Basil L. Gildersleeve, himself a Princeton graduate, decried the “baleful influence of Princeton” stating that there was from there “very little hope of a generous vivifying force” (Letter from Gildersleeve to Charles Augustus Briggs, Briggs Transcripts, 5.470 (Twelve ledger books hand-copied by Emilie Grace Briggs comprising a transcription of Charles Briggs’ personal correspondence, Union Theological Seminary Library). Many letters from Princeton grads were in Briggs’ correspondence. What comes through the written lines is a cold rational commitment to truth which touched the head but bounced off the heart.
Why is this important for us today? Because we see the same spirit within the academic wing of evangelicalism. We see theology that has reduced the truth of God to timeless abstract propositions. A theology that puffs up the knower with pride that he or she is committed to the truth, and even reduces love as another proposition to be parroted rather than a relationship to be experienced.
15 replies to "Princeton and Propositions"
Thanks Jim, for a very interesting read.
While enjoying the bits of Warfield’s writings I have dipped into, I have experienced some of what you are writing about regarding the exaltation of the Westminster confession among some Reformed sorts.
It seems almost to mirror the Roman Catholic position of another source of authority alongside Scripture for some: nothing can be said without comparing it alongside the WC. It is a sad indictment of the human heart that it seems to ‘return to the city from which it departed’ so easily.
As a Reformed Baptist who has benefited greatly from the Princeton tradition and its authors, I definitely see the point you are making – both about them and theology in general these days.
Part of me sees them as product of their time – engaged in continual theological warfare with both the emotionalistic aspects of the revival movement and the liberal attacks on Scripture’s authority. Being continually exposed to that sort of environment is enough to turn anyone into a person given over to endless details and missing what Calvin talks about as “piety”.
However, there is indeed a lesson for those of us who are indeed given to theological study, be it in a formal sense or informal – that we ought always to ensure that our study is not a mere academic, propositional pursuit (though of course, that in and of itself is not wrong) but also a Spirit-led, “truth on fire” pursuit of God in all His glory
Over-intellectualized faith is a reaction to squishy, over-subjectivized faith.
And, of course, squishy, over-subjectivized faith is a reaction to over-intellectualized faith.
It’s like two children holding both hands while spinning, leaning away from each other. If you didn’t have the other one to hold onto, you’d fall down–it would be obvious that you’re leaning away from the place of balance. But as long as you can point to the other guy, you can justify staying where you are.
OK, that analogy broke down somewhere, but just go with it.
P.S. I suppose I could have just stuck with the standard pendulum metaphor. But it’s fun to try something new.
“The idea that Christianity is a form of feeling, a life, and not a system of doctrines is contrary to the faith of all Christians. Christianity always has a creed. A man who believes certain doctrines is a Christian.”
Yes, and that’s why a true marriage between a man and a woman consists of the propositions they agree to and the rules they promise to abide by.
Which is of course why God compares His love for Israel to that of a man for his bride, and why Paul says the relationship between Christ and the church is like that between a husband and wife. I.e., both are (and are to be) nothing more than forms of creedal and doctrinal adherence. To be otherwise, i.e., to let feelings trump or compete with doctrines or legal vows (or, heaven forbid!, to engage in communional “knowing” of each other) would make a marriage and God’s love for Israel and Christ’s love for His church – and vice versa – subjective and invalid.
I.e., a man who believes he is married is a husband. A woman who believes she is married is a wife.
[/sarcasm]
No doubt, a theology without a heart, is as bad as a blind believer without a mind.
But since you’ve favored one over the other? How about recalling all the times God warned that even our “hearts” can be “deceived,” “false,” etc..? Our emotions after all, can mislead us. And so we need, if not rigorous or utterly inflexible orthodoxy, at least … critical inquiry, questioning. SInce our people perish, without “knowledge.”
Probably the major reason theology no longer appeals much to heart, is the above; and in fact, because it simply no longer believes so many things we were told were true. So that the very coldness of theology, stems not just from objectivity, but from a very real antipathy. For the many false doctrines, that mislead both our minds, and now our hearts.
Wow, that was a good read. I’ve heard most leaders in my life never speak a critical word about the Princetonians, and claim that liberalism defeated them. But I always thought, if they were so godly and had such good theology, then where was the fruit that carried on their tradition?
Things, particularly things historical, are never quite as valid as the stories people tell. That Hodge could even make such a claim that Christianity was only about doctrines absolutely astounds me. Unfortunately, the effect that the views of the Princetonians had on Christianity have proven to be essentially as destructive as the views of their liberal opponents.
Give me passionate semi-orthodoxy over cold orthodoxy all day. Mission is about more than mere propositions.
“Over-intellectualized faith is a reaction to squishy, over-subjectivized faith.
And, of course, squishy, over-subjectivized faith is a reaction to over-intellectualized faith.”
Jujulum,
I can identify. There seems to be no room for a middle ground here, where I believe most Christians are. I certainly accept theological doctrines as necessary to establish truth, but I can also accept the personal work of the Lord in each believer, via the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. If Christ meant us only to have corporate theology and nothing to transform and renew our minds personally, He would never have left the Holy Spirit as our inner man’s legacy.
However, there is a very delicate balance there, between too much over intellectualizing of the gospel, and, on the other extreme, too much emotionalism. That’s why we have to be careful that we are not going too far one way or another. Achieving the proper balance is an overlooked, and under preached part of the Christian life nowadays, in my opinion.
Sorry I misspelled your name. It should, of course, be Jugulum.
mbaker,
Agreed.
Also: It helps to point out that people often go to one extreme as an overreaction to the other extreme. When you’re correcting a bad trend, it helps to warn against the overcorrection. (It also helps you to understand why people are making their mistake in the first place. And if you know what people are concerned about, it’s easier to help them see the point of balance–otherwise, you might just talk past them.)
Sidenote: I think “balanced” is a better way to put it than “middle ground”. But even better, “Biblically-balanced”. Because there’s no inherent virtue in being in the middle of two positions. There’s nothing virtuous about middle-of-the-road. It’s balance that we’re looking for–but an automatic 50/50 balance for everything. More specifically, we want to hold everything in the balance that the Bible advocates. We want to emphasize each thing with as much strength as the Bible does. And sometimes, the proper balance will look imbalanced to people with messed-up priorities.
“And if you know what people are concerned about, it’s easier to help them see the point of balance–otherwise, you might just talk past them.)”
I think you have probably nailed it right here. Over correction is just as bad as under correction, if it drives folks away from Christ rather than attracting them, and makes them think they are beyond redemption if they don’t hold a certain popularly held view. I see this often in the Calvinist-Arminian debate, and it bothers me that we, as Christians, are expected to take sides.
And, do you sometimes think we equate being moderate with being lukewarm, although the two are definitely not the same?
Dr. Sawyer,
I enjoyed your post. I am towards the end of a Sunday school class that I am teaching on James’ Letter. I find it hard to believe that someone could read James’ letter and not realize that your faith is reflected in the life that you live. How these theologians could so easily compartmentalize their religion is very sad. I used Dr. Moo’s commentary to help me out during the class and I am glad that I chose him. He is very pastoral.
Thank goodness that I am not a ‘Princetonian’. I get the point of your blog. Thanks for the reminder.
MTO
Well… Sometimes. Some people do. But I was actually thinking about the flipside, earlier. Some people get obsessed with finding the “middle-of-the-road” position–like we should always aim for that.
Both extremes are possible. We should just aim for the middle, I guess. 😉
“But I was actually thinking about the flipside, earlier. Some people get obsessed with finding the “middle-of-the-road” position–like we should always aim for that.
Both extremes are possible. We should just aim for the middle, I guess. ”
Only if it’s the biblical balance that Christ had, I’d say. I don’t think sitting on the fence, merely to make ourselves look good, is the answer either. That’s pretty cowardly for a Christian.
“What comes through the written lines is a cold rational commitment to truth which touched the head but bounced off the heart.Why is this important for us today? Because we see the same spirit within the academic wing of evangelicalism. We see theology that has reduced the truth of God to timeless abstract propositions. A theology that puffs up the knower with pride that he or she is committed to the truth, and even reduces love as another proposition to be parroted rather than a relationship to be experienced.”
I sat in a Bible study last night, the first in a series, taught by a good man whose passion is to take on the Muslim, Hindus, “false” religions in this world. His lesson concerned an attempt to put into believers knowledge of what to say to others in a witness of the Gospel and presented our faith, Christianity, as indeed the only “truth” out there. At one point I raised my hand to ask “What is truth?”, to which one fellow in the class then replied “The Bible!” and I noted such as being what most within our faith would say. “But didn’t Jesus say,” I continued, “that He, alone, was truth?” From there, in few words, (I do not wish to steal another man’s pulpit nor make waves of discontentment in such arena) I spoke of our belief in the Biblical proposition of Christ “in” me and how either that is a reality or we are kidding ourselves, of how, when I witness, be it in a classroom or in any situation God brings before me, what I desire is for Jesus to come up “out of my belly” and speak for Himself. My head, of course, is still involved, but I do my best to give it unto the other….