In restoring the preaching of the Word of God to its proper place within the life of the Church, the Reformers realized that the task of interpreting the Scriptures had to undertaken in a much more serious, disciplined, and instructed way. In the Roman church preaching had been deprived of its true position; what was needed was a revival of true biblical interpretation.

None sought to meet this need more seriously and systematically than John Calvin. He grieved that Scripture, on the Protestant as well as on the Roman side, was seldom “rightly divided,” and was often deformed by false comments, as if men sought to “hide its light by their own smoke.” “Some mutilate it, others tear it, others torture it, others break it in pieces, others, keeping to the outside, never come to the soul of doctrine.”

Amid all the other tasks that claimed his energy, Calvin therefore forced himself to produce a series of remarkable commentaries on the books of the Bible. He began with the Epistle to the Romans, and concentrated at first on completing the New Testament, deliberately omitting the Book of Revelation—an omission that drew from one of his great contemporaries the admiring cry, “O most wise Calvin!” Working in the Old Testament he produced, sometimes as a series of lectures covering the whole text of a book, commentaries on all the Minor and Major Prophets (with the exception of a portion of Ezekiel), the Pentateuch, Joshua, and the Psalms.

These works were enthusiastically received by the Church in his own day, and their appeal was universal. Even in the sixteenth century, the Anglican Thomas Hooker affirmed that Calvin’s sense of Scripture was to be held as of more force than ten thousand Augustines, Jeromes, Chrysostoms, and Cyprians. Arminius, the theological opponent of Calvinism, admitted that Calvin himself was “incomparable in the interpretation of Scripture.” In a strange way this appeal to people of many different types of outlook has lasted. Sir George Adam Smith, referring to the help he had received from other commentators when engaged in his own work on Isaiah, wrote: “To begin with there was Calvin, and there is Calvin—still as valuable as ever for his strong spiritual power, his sanity, his moderation, his sensitiveness to the changes and shades of the prophet’s meaning.” It is astonishing that what Calvin produced in the 1550s can often be set favorably beside what is being produced today, and can be regarded essentially as modern rather than as medieval.

The legacy that Calvin has left us in his work as an expositor is by no means confined to the commentaries. His long series of sermons, covering consecutively the whole text of many books of the Bible, themselves form a series of extended commentaries in which Calvin, while always adhering closely to the argument of the text, allows himself a certain liberty to expand his thought and range of application. Calvin preached these sermons without notes but after careful preparation. They were taken down in shorthand, and their text was later corrected by the preacher. In this way Calvin, preaching often on weekdays as well as twice each Sunday and taking a few verses at a time as his text, covered the whole of the books of Job, Deuteronomy, Ephesians, Galatians, the Pastoral Epistles, the Synoptic Gospels, I and II Samuel, and many other selected portions of Scripture. His discipline in forcing his preaching to follow the text of the Bible systematically was seldom relaxed. Having been exiled from Geneva in 1538 as a result of violent opposition, he returned more than three years later and faced a large and expectant congregation in the cathedral. He made some brief and moderate remarks about the office of the ministry and about his own faith and integrity, and then without further ado took up the exposition of Scripture at the exact place at which he had previously stopped.

Four Expository Principles

An examination of Calvin’s work as an expositor compels us to note certain principles on which he based his approach and method.

1. A careful grammatical and historical exegesis of the text is indispensable. The Roman church had tended to despise such exegesis. Gregory the Great had scoffed at the idea that the knowledge of divine things in Scripture could possibly depend on man’s ability in grammar. It was held that the literal sense, found by exegetical methods, was essentially mean and poor. Much deeper and richer allegorical and mystical meanings were hidden from the mere scholar with his use of Greek and Hebrew but were discoverable by other methods.

Calvin, on the other hand, held that “almost the only task” of a commentator was to “unfold the mind of the writer whom he has undertaken to expound.” Therefore he seized his opportunities to become an expert in Greek, and arranged to be instructed in Hebrew by one of the great scholars of the day. He studied the words, the connection of the sentences, and the historical circumstances as far as these were relevant. In what was a revolutionary approach for his own time, he applied to the text of Scripture the methods of purely secular Latin and Greek scholars.

Such methods, he believed, would help him find the “true and natural meaning” of the text. For Calvin, of course, the writers of Holy Scripture were men who felt themselves confronted by God’s presence and redeeming activity in the midst of all they were writing about, and knew themselves to be mastered by God’s truth, to which they were seeking to bear witness under the inspiration of the Spirit. Therefore the true and natural meaning of the text and events of the Bible was bound to include this witness to Christ that the writers were constantly bearing in all they wrote. It was because he believed that the Bible contained Christ as its real and literal meaning that Calvin found Scripture to be a “most rich and inexhaustible fountain.”

2. The study of theology is an indispensable discipline for the interpretation of Scripture. In the letter dedicating his commentary on Romans to Grynaeus, he wrote: “If we understand this epistle, we have a passage opened to us to the understanding of the whole of Scripture.” Behind such a statement there lies Calvin’s belief that the whole Bible gives a consistent and faithful witness to the one revelation of God in Christ, and that the witness of each author can best be understood when it is seen and interpreted in the light of this whole witness. This principle of interpretation Calvin sometimes called the “analogy of faith,” recalling Paul’s use of this phrase in the twelfth chapter of Romans.

Calvin’s aim in the later editions of his Institutes was to give a summary of the teaching of the whole of Scripture so that the various parts of Scripture might be better understood in the light of it. He sought to “instruct candidates in sacred theology for reading the divine word, in order that they might have an easy access to it, and advance in it without stumbling.” Thus he desired to provide even for the layman “a key and an entrance” in order that he might have “access … well and truly to understand Holy Scripture.”

3. In the task of interpreting Holy Scripture, the Word itself must be allowed always to control and reform all our presuppositions, theological or otherwise. It is most significant that Calvin allowed the use of theological presuppositions in face of Holy Scripture only in order to allow us “access” to the meaning of Scripture. He would never have dreamed of suggesting we could find a theology or a system of doctrine that would enable us to “master” the Bible and to unfold, as in the solution of a cleverly constructed puzzle, the meaning of every part. He often confessed that he did not understand certain parts of the Bible, and he made an honest attempt to avoid using clever argument to harmonize the meaning he found in it with his own theology. That he gradually revised his Institutes as he wrote his commentaries may be a sign that he was willing, where he found himself able, constantly to revise his theology in the light of Scripture. “The Holy Scripture contains the mysteries of God which are hidden from our flesh, and sublime treasures of life which far surpass our human measure.”

Calvin realized that the great danger threatening every expositor of Scripture is that of “presumptuously bringing our own natural shrewdness” into the task of interpretation as a decisive factor. In this respect he believed that the Roman church had failed. Their interpreters went to Scripture, not to bring their system of doctrine under the criticism of the Word so that it might be reformed, but simply to establish with scriptural proof a system that was already final. The Roman church believed that the Church had given birth to the Word; thus the primacy, in the act of interpretation, lay not with the Word but with the Church. Calvin argued rather that it was the Word that had given birth to the Church; thus the primacy, in the act of interpretation, must be given to the Word, and not to the Church with its theology.

Calvin clearly and beautifully describes his own attitude as an interpreter of Scripture in a passage in the Institutes:

We do not with perverted ardor and without discrimination rashly seize upon what first springs to our minds. Rather, after diligently meditating upon it, we embrace the meaning which the Spirit of God offers. Relying upon it, we look down from a height at whatever of earthly wisdom is set against it, Indeed, we hold our minds captive, that they dare not raise even one little word of protest, and humble them, that they dare not rebel against it.

4. The true meaning of a passage will be found only as its relevance is found for the constantly urgent situation of the Church in the world. In interpreting any passage of Scripture, the commentator or preacher must decide which aspects of the message of the text he wishes to dwell on and wrestle with, in order to pass on to the Church what he has found there. Calvin abhorred the practice of those who made the interpretation of Scripture simply an occasion for showing their skill in manipulating phrases, or for playing about with trivial points as if they were a game. The interpreter must never forget that Scripture is given in order that the people of God might be brought into obedience to his will in their present situation. The preacher’s duty is to allow Scripture to speak to men about the will of God in concrete terms, and “to supply weapons to fight against Antichrist.” He can interpret Scripture properly, therefore, only when he has his mind acutely occupied with the situation of the people for whose sake he is interpreting the Word.

Certainly Calvin himself did not always follow the principles he laid down so clearly. Sometimes his theological bias overcame his exegetical judgment, and sometimes he neglected historical research because he saw the immediate relevance of a passage so vividly. But in his approach, method, and practice, there is much to challenge us today. Many of us are tempted either to despise or to neglect the hard exegetical or theological work (or the training for this work) that alone can enable us to be consistently true interpreters of Scripture. Many of us would, in our actual practice, tend to show little faith in Calvin’s thesis that in the long run a strict adherence to truth, in biblical exegesis, is the policy that will ultimately prove most effective in building up the Church. We depend on the immediate inspiration of the moment, and tend to “seize rashly” on any superficial feature of the text that may seem edifying or that gives us a pretext for constructing a good sermon—and sometimes the result is a display of skill rather than an urgent and saving message for the people of God. Far too many of us go to Scripture to have our theology confirmed rather than reformed.

God’S Sword Thrusts

David’s prayer became mine: “Search me, O God.… See if there be any wicked way in me.… Lead me …” (Ps. 139:23, 24). I arose feeling uncondemned; no sin stained our relationship—God’s and mine. I hummed as I rolled my shiny washing machine from the corner. Suddenly panic seized me. I remembered another woman. She was struggling to coax a balky washer from its corner. Anxious to sell it before moving, I had assured her that it washed beautifully, failing to mention that the casters would scarcely roll.

Had she been censuring me, I wondered? Oh, well, that was done months ago and far away.

“Search me,” my prayer echoed!

With trembling fingers I wrote, “Forgive me for not telling you about the casters.… Check is enclosed for entire price.”

My heart bowed as I read her answer: “Your letter was the best sermon I ever heard.… Returning the check.”—LOIS GORDON, Fayetteville, Arkansas.

Calvin’S Method And Ours

Calvin’s close adherence to the text of Scripture contrasts with our usual practice today. We often try to reduce what the text says to some topic or theme or series of connected themes, which we then treat in a neatly constructed sermon, with an introduction and a conclusion. Calvin tended to dispense with such medieval scholastic forms. The announcement of his text served often for introduction enough. The argument of his sermon followed the sequence of thoughts as they arose out of the text during his progress through it, and the sermon ended when the last part of the text had been dealt with, the whole having gained its unity from the unity of the text. Calvin’s method in this respect is not always so rhetorically satisfying as ours, but it does seem to ensure the conditions under which the Word of God is least likely to be obscured by our own human wisdom. Calvin’s practice of disciplined preaching on lengthy and consecutive passages of Scripture would save many of us the agony of having to jump about here and there, rather tiringly, in choosing a text, and would ensure for our people that our preaching does not neglect or evade any important aspects of the biblical teaching. Moreover, the wealth of expression found in the biblical text would add a new and surprising variety to our often well-worn phraseology. “Let us apply ourselves to the text,” says Karl Barth. “The true exegete will always find in it fresh depths and new mysteries; like a child in a marvelous garden, he will be filled with wonder.”

But we must end with Calvin himself: “We ought to have such respect for the Word of God that any difference of interpretation on our part should alter it as little as possible. Its majesty is somewhat diminished especially if we do not interpret it with great discretion and moderation. If it be considered a sin to corrupt what has been dedicated to God, we assuredly cannot tolerate anyone who handles that most sacred of all things on earth with unclean or even ill-prepared hands.”

Ronald S. Wallace is minister of Lothian Road Church of Scotland, Edinburgh. A graduate in Arts and Science, he holds also the Ph.D. from Edinburgh University. He has lectured widely in Britain and in the United States, and his published works include two books on Calvin.

In the ancient and honorable city of Noyon, almost under the shadow of its noble cathedral, Jean Cauvin, known to us as John Calvin, was born on July 10, 1509. His father, Gérard Cauvin, was a busy notary whose employments brought him into contact with prominent families of the city and included services to the cathedral chapter. This relationship enabled him to procure for John and his elder brother, Charles, during their boyhood, certain church benefices that were to provide funds for their education. Their mother, a devout and beautiful woman, died when John was three years old; a stepmother succeeded of whom virtually nothing is known. Calvin’s younger brother, Antoine, and his half-sister, Marie, were later to accompany him to Geneva.

Calvin’s formal higher education, at Paris, Orleans, and Bourges, extended from 1523 to 1533. From a good school at Noyon he was sent at fourteen to the University of Paris. At the Collège de la Marche he came briefly under the instruction of the eminent Latin teacher Mathurin Cordier, with whom he formed a lasting bond of friendship and mutual esteem. Calvin long afterwards attributed this brief association with a great Latinist to a kind Providence and saw it as the means by which all that he later achieved for the Church of God became possible. Too young to be allowed to make his own decisions, he was soon removed to the theologically renowned Collège de Montaigu, where the lectures were good with a strongly conservative accent, the meals notoriously bad, and the discipline severe. Laggards were flogged at Montaigu, but there is no reason to suppose that Calvin suffered under the scourge. It is more probable that his health was impaired at the hands of the cooks. He attended the lectures in dialectic (no doubt seasoned with theology) of Noël Beda, doughty champion of the old order against Erasmus and Luther; Beda had earlier led the attack on Lefèvre, the biblical humanist who had been driven from the university. Calvin was probably also in the crowded classroom of the eminent Scottish schoolman John Major, who would shortly afterwards write against Luther, and who must also have introduced his students to the theories of conciliarism and representative government for which he is well known. Calvin appears to have read Peter Lombard’s Sentences and to have made a beginning of his later unexcelled familiarity with Augustine. He can hardly have escaped some extracurricular reading of Erasmus, who despite the frown of the authorities was in favor among many of the students. But we lack evidence of his attitude to certain undergraduate excitements connected with the new stirrings in religion and centering around Louis de Berquin, whose approval of Luther would later bring him to the stake. At the time of his first known responses to the Reformation, Calvin, though still in his early twenties, was a graduate in arts and in law.

With every educational advantage young Calvin entered readily into the world of learning. Extraordinary gifts of understanding and memory, ready speech, and a passion for knowledge marked him out among students; and his many friends included world-renowned scholars and their sons.

Gérard Cauvin, having quarreled with the canons of Noyon, suddenly required of John a shift to the study of law (1528). During three fruitful years he pursued this study at Orleans and Bourges with good success, participated in a small controversy among lawyers, broadened his range of friends, and took beginner’s Greek under Melchior Wolmar, a Lutheran from Wurtemburg. He later expressed his warm gratitude to Wolmar but without reference to any religious influence. As he matured he must have decided clearly against a legal career, and after his father’s death in 1531 he felt free to follow his real bent. He entered eagerly on the study of the ancient languages and literatures under the Royal Lecturers lately established by Francis I at Paris. In this environment he produced his first book, the commentary on Seneca’s treatise On Clemency, a brilliant little work and a typical product of Christian political humanism with minimal concern for theology.

A Sudden Subduing

That which made the Calvin we know was an inner transformation by which all his intellectual and personal resources were directed to new ends. John Calvin was one of the great converts of history, and a convert who thereafter with singular intensity lived by his new convictions. From a number of passages in his writings, especially the preface to his commentary on the Psalms (1557), we learn something of the circumstances and the nature of this experience. He describes himself as “stubbornly addicted to the superstitions of the Papacy” until “God by a sudden conversion subdued my heart to teachableness.” He must have declared his new faith boldly, for he was soon surrounded wherever he went by ardent inquirers after the “purer doctrine.”

No statement of Calvin’s enables us to date this event with confidence, but we can infer from incidents otherwise known that it probably occurred in the early months of 1534. By his association with Nicholas Cop in the latter’s sensationally bold rectorial address in the university (November 1, 1533), he had become publicly identified with the party of Marguerite d’Angoulême and of Lefèvre, whose biblical humanism remained submissive to the hierarchy. The sentences from Luther and Erasmus in this discourse do not add up to an avowal of Protestantism; whether Calvin assisted in writing it or not, it is not a Protestant utterance. But he visited the aged Lefèvre, protected by Marguerite at Nérac, early in April, 1534, and promptly journeyed to Noyon, where he resigned his benefices on May 4. From that date Calvin’s every utterance unambiguously proclaimed him a recruit to the Reformation and an advocate of the evangelical cause in France and in Europe. It was his unquestioned conviction that God had claimed him for lifetime service in a sacred ministry. Thereafter, more than most Christians, he felt the constant presence of God, commanding him to faithful testimony and strenuous labor in the interpretation of the Word of God and the restoration of the purity and order of the visible Church. Calvin’s conversion was a dedication; he was expendable. He said little of this, but it is well expressed in his emblem, a flaming heart on an extended hand with the motto: Cor meum tibi Domine offero (“To thee, O Lord, I offer my heart”).

Already a trained scholar and a fluent writer, Calvin determined to give his fellow believers a book that would confirm and clarify their beliefs and at the same time serve as a manifesto to confute their detractors. For this he needed a time of retired study not possible for him in France, where persecution and death were now being inflicted on those of his persuasion. Early in 1535 he was in Basel, and by August of that year he gave to a printer there the manuscript of the Institutes of the Christian Religion. By the time it was published (March, 1536) Calvin was on his way to Ferrara, soon to return for a brief while to France. The book in this first edition was a compact, arresting summary of Christian doctrine and was intended for believers and inquirers rather than for academic readers. In the subtitle it is called a summa pietatis, not a summa theologica. Even in its enlarged editions and numerous reprintings, in the course of which it was vastly enriched in content and redesigned for the use of theological students, it retained something of its appeal to the lay public. In the Latin edition of 1559, with its French version of 1560, the book had expanded to five times its original bulk. In Latin it reached educated readers through all Europe, lay as well as clerical; and it was soon spread in translations to large numbers of the common people. The life of an influential writer is in a large sense the life of his books. Even while Calvin lived, those who felt the impact of his thought through reading what he wrote must have greatly outnumbered those who sat under his instruction.

Detour To Geneva

Calvin would have been content to serve the evangelical cause as a writer. More even than most scholars, he craved the peace of private study. But he was pressed into service in an unforeseen role of public responsibility. Traveling with a friend from Paris to Strasbourg and forced by military movements to detour by Geneva, he was subjected to an urgent plea by William Farel, zealous leader of the first stage of reform in the city, who solemnly in the name of God summoned Calvin to cooperation with him. “It was,” wrote Calvin afterwards, “as if God from on high had laid his hand upon me.” To such a call, he could offer no resistance.

The two Reformers labored in full harmony until, through the interference of Bern, which was ambitious to control Geneva, and a basic disagreement with the magistrates over church discipline, they were obliged to leave. In the crisis, Calvin, citing Chrysostom’s example, declared he would rather die than profane the sacrament by administering it to defiant offenders. Strasbourg now became the scene of his ministry of teaching and writing. But Geneva called again, repeatedly and importunately. “There is no place,” he wrote, “that I am more afraid of.” Farel, now at Neuchâtel, urged him on the highest sanctions to return; and many Reformed leaders joined in the effort to get him back. At length he consented, like a man going to martyrdom. Mutual tears were shed as he left Strasbourg, where he had profited much from the companionship of Bucer.

On his return to Geneva in 1541 Calvin had nearly twenty-three years to live, years of intense effort and almost continuous strife. Promptly with the other ministers he prepared, and the magistrates accepted with some revision, the Ecclesiastical Ordinances by which the church of Geneva was to be administered and to cooperate with the civil government. The constitution provided for a ministry consisting of pastors, doctors or teachers, elders, and deacons. Elders were chosen from the members of the three governing councils of the city and were associated with the ministers for discipline. The primary motive in the discipline was to provide a standard for admission to the Lord’s Supper and thus to protect the sacrament from profanation. Detailed prescriptions regulated the work of the different classes of ministers. The deacons were appointed to serve the sick and the poor. The consistory, the body of ministers and elders, exercised “fraternal correction” and claimed the right to exclude from Communion. Physical penalties were solely in the province of the civil authorities. The old morally restrictive laws of Geneva were revised (1543) under Calvin’s influence. The earlier reforms of Basel and Strasbourg furnished some elements of Calvin’s church order, but the consistency and permanence of the Geneva plan gave it a unique and commanding influence in the development of the Reformed churches.

As he had expected, Calvin soon after his return found himself and his reforms under attack. In the consistory there were tense scenes involving citizens of rank and members of their families and sometimes occasioning angry controversy in the city. Prior to 1555 there existed a more or less coordinated opposition party, the so-called Libertines. After their victory in the elections of February, 1547, Calvin expected to be once more thrust out of Geneva; but the real purpose of his enemies was to intimidate him and nullify the discipline. On one occasion he faced a riotous crowd and, baring his breast, exclaimed: “If you must shed blood, let mine be the first”; thus he won a hearing and quelled the turmoil. In such a role the naturally timid scholar was out of his element: “I wish God would grant me his discharge,” he wrote to a friend. But his wish was not granted, and he fought on.

The Ghost Of Servetus

Some of his opponents assailed his theology. Of these the most famous is Servetus, the Spanish anti-trinitarian. There are people who know almost nothing about Calvin except that he “burned Servetus.” They are unaware that Calvin was probably the only man in Geneva who made a plea to the council for a “more merciful” form of execution. Calvin was at a low point of influence with the magistrates when Servetus appeared, and there was reason to expect that his opponents would support the accused stranger against him. But in the end they failed to help Servetus and voted in the council for his death by fire. As for Calvin, he unquestionably sought a death sentence, and he afterwards defended the act. Had Servetus not escaped from prison in Vienne but suffered death there under the Inquisition that condemned him, his burning would have been little noticed. But ever since that deplorable scene in October, 1553, on the hill of Champel (where an expiatory monument, erected in 1903 by French and Swiss Calvinists, now stands), his ghost has dogged the reputation of Calvin.

The Geneva Libertines by their behavior were increasingly discredited, and the civic elections turned in Calvin’s favor. From 1555 the Reformer could rely on the general good will of citizens and magistrates. The dangers to Geneva, a Protestant outpost between France and Savoy, were now from these external enemies. Henry II of France was preparing to attack the city when his sudden death intervened in 1559. Later that year an agent of Savoy, seeking the submission of Geneva, was repulsed by a magistrate in the words: “For the sovereignty of God and for the Word of God we will adventure our lives.” During these years the city’s population was swollen by the coming of thousands of refugees, most of them already under Calvin’s influence. Calvin played an increasingly important part in civic affairs. He was influential in the adoption of statutes covering sanitary reforms, protection from fires, balcony railings to keep children from falling, and the introduction of manufactures to provide employment. With much forethought and labor he brought into existence the Geneva Academy, destined to be the alma mater of generations of trained Calvinists who came from, and returned to, all parts of Europe.

An Energetic Pen

Calvin’s labors as preacher, teacher, director of the church, and public servant were constant and exacting, and quite sufficient to keep a man of high ability busily employed. He lived with taut nerves and suffered frequent headaches. But with amazing mental energy he continued to produce works of distinction that endure in the esteem of millions today. A stream of commentaries and treatises flowed from his ready pen, all marked by sound learning, persuasive argument, and spiritual insight. His beloved wife, long an invalid, died in 1549, but his house remained a place of generous hospitality to refugees, as testified by their letters of gratitude to him. His extensive correspondence reached high and low in many countries, with admonition, encouragement, religious and political news, and friendly confidences. Numerous bodily disorders assailed him, and we may be sure that habitual overwork hastened his death (on May 27, 1564). With the fifty-nine volumes of his opera before us, it is hard to realize that he died before reaching the age of fifty-five.

Those who take the measure of Calvin by his severity toward opponents and his lapses in speech and writing into personal vituperation overlook what really distinguishes him among the men of his time, indeed of any age. In these days we do well not to forget that the guidance of God’s Church, through an understanding of Scripture, was the task to which Calvin had set himself. “All that we have attempted,” he declared in 1539, “has been to renew the ancient form of the Church.” And the last words he dictated bore a reminder to his first co-worker, Farel, that their union in service had been “useful to God’s Church.” Because he labored with distinction alike to interpret the entire Scripture and to revitalize the entire Church, his contribution is indispensable and his name imperishable. There will be other centenary celebrations.

John T. McNeill, formerly a faculty member at Queen’s University, Ontario; Knox College, Toronto; and the University of Chicago, is Auburn Professor Emeritus of Church History at Union Theological Seminary, New York. He edited Calvin’s “Institutes” for “The Library of Christian Classics.” Among the many books he has written is “The History and Character of Calvinism.”