The Covenant Universalist: July 2025

Friday, July 25, 2025

Gregory of Nyssa on Evil, Purification, and the Final Restoration of All: An Eschatology of Healing

Introduction

Gregory of Nyssa (c. 335–395 CE) stands as a pivotal figure in the development of Christian eschatology and metaphysics. As a Cappadocian Father deeply influenced by Origen, Plotinus, and Scripture, Gregory constructed a profoundly hopeful vision of the human soul's destiny. Central to this vision is the conviction that all souls, even the unsaved, will ultimately be restored to communion with God. Unlike Origen, Gregory does not teach the necessity of re-embodiment for post-mortem purification. Instead, he offers a non-reincarnational eschatology in which evil is overcome not through eternal punishment or multiple lifetimes, but through the soul’s progressive purification in the divine presence.

A crucial element of this system is Gregory’s metaphysical understanding of evil as privation or non-being (μὴ ὂν). This Neoplatonic conception undergirds his belief that evil cannot endure eternally, and that the soul, being created in the image of God, will inevitably be healed of its corruption and return to its source. Gregory’s vision of post-mortem salvation thus rests on a coherent theology of the soul, divine justice, and the annihilation of evil as an ontological impossibility.

1. Gregory’s Metaphysical Anthropology: The Image of God and the Soul’s Orientation

Gregory affirms, with Genesis 1:26, that human beings are created in the image and likeness of God. For him, this means that the soul bears an inbuilt tendency toward the Good and a natural orientation to return to the divine likeness, which sin obscures but does not erase. As he writes in On the Soul and the Resurrection:

“The soul, being created in the image of God, possesses the principle of its being from Him who is imperishable and unchangeable, and therefore it has an affinity with Him.” (PG 46.93B)

This ontological affinity implies that the human soul is not intrinsically evil and cannot be permanently corrupted. Its true nature is divine likeness, and its destiny is to be conformed to that likeness through the transformation of the will. The spiritual life, both now and after death, is the unfolding of this latent capacity.

2. Evil as Privation: The Non-Substantial Nature of Sin and Corruption

A distinctive feature of Gregory’s metaphysics is his Platonic-Christian synthesis of evil as privation (stéresis)—a non-being rather than a substantive force. Drawing on Plotinus and Origen, Gregory insists that evil has no positive existence. In On the Making of Man, he writes:

“Evil is not a self-existent substance; it is a deviation of the mind from virtue, and nothing more. It exists only as the absence of good.” (De Hominis Opificio 21; PG 44.228A)

Because evil is not a real “thing” but a lack, it cannot exist eternally. God alone is Being itself (to on), and only what participates in God has true reality. Hence, evil—being non-being—must be transient. This metaphysical insight carries enormous soteriological implications: since hell and sin are rooted in non-being, they are by nature self-limiting and destined to be overcome.

This logic makes eternal damnation metaphysically incoherent. As Gregory puts it:

“That which is not by nature eternal must cease to exist; and evil, being unnatural and without real substance, cannot be eternal.” (In Illud: Tunc et Ipse Filius, PG 44.1320C)

Thus, the torment of hell is not unending punishment but a temporary process whereby the soul is purged of what is unreal and returns to what is real—God.

3. Post-Mortem Purification Without Re-Embodiment

In contrast to Origen, who taught that unrepentant souls may need to be re-embodied in order to continue their moral formation, Gregory maintains that the soul can be purified in a disembodied state after death. Death, for him, is not an end but a transition into a state where the soul confronts divine truth more directly, and in that confrontation, is painfully but ultimately redemptively transformed.

In The Great Catechism, he uses the analogy of gold refined in fire:

“The separation of the soul from evil becomes a necessity; and just as in the case of gold, if it be mixed with dross, the purifying fire must be applied to it... so it is here. The fire is the process of the healing.” (Oratio Catechetica Magna 8; PG 45.28A)

This “fire” is not an external torment but the encounter with the holiness of God, which burns away the soul’s impurities. It is therapeutic, not retributive.

He makes this even more explicit in On the Soul and the Resurrection:

“When evil has been removed, and when the soul, through suffering and correction, has been purified of its defilement, then it will return to the blessedness from which it fell.” (PG 46.96A)

No re-embodiment is necessary; the purgation takes place in the spiritual realm, guided by divine providence and love.

4. The Victory of Divine Love and the Apokatastasis of All Souls

Gregory’s eschatology culminates in the doctrine of apokatastasis, or universal restoration. For Gregory, God’s justice and love are not in competition. Divine punishment exists, but only as a means to ultimate healing. The final judgment results not in permanent division but in universal reconciliation.

In On the Making of Man, he declares:

“For one must believe that after the evil has been destroyed in long cycles of time, nothing opposed to the good shall remain, but the divine life shall pervade all things, and every creature shall be harmoniously united with one another.” (De Hominis Opificio 26.3; PG 44.233B)

Even the most recalcitrant souls are not beyond the reach of God’s grace. God’s will is to be “all in all” (1 Cor. 15:28), and for Gregory this means the inclusion of every rational soul in the beatific vision. He thus spiritualizes Paul’s eschatology in a way that is consistent with his ontological optimism: evil will be extinguished, not by annihilation of persons, but by the transformation of the will through the fire of divine love.

5. Freedom, Healing, and the Irresistibility of the Good

Gregory is sometimes criticized for diminishing human freedom in his insistence that all will be saved. But for him, true freedom consists not in the mere capacity to choose, but in the liberty to actualize one’s true nature, which is the image of God. As he writes:

“The end will be like the beginning, when all things existed in God, and there was no evil. Since the Good is more powerful than evil, the final condition must reflect the original harmony.” (In Cantica Canticorum, Homily 15; PG 44.1116B)

In this way, divine love does not coerce, but heals. Gregory’s God does not violate the will but gradually reforms it, drawing all creatures to Himself through correction, illumination, and mercy.

Conclusion

Gregory of Nyssa articulates a profound eschatology in which evil, being a privation of the good, is necessarily impermanent. The human soul, created in the image of God, cannot be forever alienated from its source. Gregory rejects the necessity of re-embodiment, insisting instead that post-mortem purification in a spiritual state suffices to transform the soul. Hell is not eternal punishment but a purifying encounter with divine love, painful but healing. In the end, the God who is Goodness itself will be “all in all,” and all rational creatures will be restored to Him, not by force, but through the liberating fire of truth. Gregory’s theology thus offers a compelling Christian vision of hope beyond death, one in which justice and mercy are not opposed but united in the radiant triumph of divine love.

References

Gregory of Nyssa, On the Soul and the Resurrection, trans. Catharine P. Roth (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1993).
Gregory of Nyssa, The Great Catechism (Oratio Catechetica Magna), in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Vol. 5, ed. Philip Schaff and Henry Wace.
Gregory of Nyssa, On the Making of Man, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Vol. 5.
Gregory of Nyssa, Homilies on the Song of Songs, trans. Richard A. Norris (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2012).
Ilaria Ramelli, The Christian Doctrine of Apokatastasis: A Critical Assessment from the New Testament to Eriugena (Leiden: Brill, 2013).
Brian E. Daley, “Apokatastasis and the Return to Unity: Gregory of Nyssa and Origen on Universal Salvation,” in The Hope of the Early Church: A Handbook of Patristic Eschatology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991).

Thursday, July 24, 2025

Re-Embodiment and the Economy of Salvation in Origen’s Eschatology

Introduction

Origen of Alexandria (c. 185–254 CE) stands as one of the most influential and controversial figures of early Christian theology. Among his many contributions is a distinctive eschatological vision grounded in the doctrine of apokatastasis, the restoration of all rational beings to union with God. A critical, though often overlooked, element of Origen’s soteriology is his belief in re-embodiment: that souls who die unreconciled must return to embodied life in order to be saved. This conviction is not incidental but is essentially bound to Origen’s theological anthropology and understanding of the pedagogical function of the material world. For Origen, salvation is not merely a metaphysical transformation, but a moral and spiritual process that demands the soul's active participation—something he believed could only occur in the context of embodied, temporal life.

Origen's Theological Anthropology: Embodiment and Moral Formation

Origen’s view of the soul was deeply shaped by both biblical revelation and Platonic philosophy, though he subordinated the latter to the former. He believed that all rational creatures (logikoi) were created with free will and originally existed in a spiritual state of equality. Through misuse of freedom, they fell from their contemplative vision of God and were assigned material bodies suitable to their spiritual state.

He writes:

“The soul, in consequence of its inclination to evil, contracts the necessity of being first man, then perhaps a woman, then a brute, and last of all a bird. In this way, by its successive fall through its own fault, it is plunged into a material body, and in like manner afterwards, through its struggles and efforts, it is again restored to its original condition” (De Principiis I.8.4).

The body, then, is not a punishment but a remedial gift, a context in which the soul may reform itself. As Origen states clearly:

“The soul uses the body as an instrument, not only for the purposes of action, but also in order that it may be instructed and improved by its means” (De Principiis I.6.4).

Thus, embodiment is integral to moral education. Spiritual growth is not possible apart from the conditions of bodily existence—temptation, suffering, repentance, and love expressed in action.

Re-Embodiment and the Mechanism of Salvation

Origen applies this anthropology directly to eschatology. Because salvation must involve the transformation of the will, and because such transformation requires struggle, post-mortem disembodied states are not adequate for complete salvation. If a soul dies unreconciled, it may require further incarnations—new bodily lives—tailored to its moral condition.

In a key passage from De Principiis II.9.7, he writes:

“God administers according to the merits and qualities of individuals, the appropriate conditions of life, assigning them bodies heavier or lighter, and suitable surroundings, so that their souls may be trained and disciplined until they are purified and fit to return to their original state.”

He continues:

“The Creator deals with them according to their deserts, bestowing on them a diversity of bodies and of worlds in proportion to the diversities of their souls, and thus leading them forward to the final perfection and restoration.”

Re-embodiment, in this vision, is not reincarnation in a pagan sense, but part of a divine pedagogy operating across the “many ages” (aiones) of God’s redemptive plan.

Against Disembodied Salvation: The Limits of the Intermediate State

Origen affirms the existence of intermediate states, such as Hades, where souls may await further purification. But he clearly limits what can happen in such states. While the soul may reflect or suffer in these disembodied realms, it cannot complete the journey of salvation without returning to an embodied state where it can act.

He writes in Commentary on Romans 1.18:

“The soul cannot obtain the inheritance of the kingdom of heaven unless it first passes through the school of this life and is trained in the flesh. Otherwise, what benefit would there be in the resurrection of the body?”

This statement underscores Origen’s resolutely embodied eschatology. Salvation is not simply the result of divine decree or spiritual enlightenment, but the fruit of a soul’s ethical choices in the arena of the flesh.

Soteriology as a Pedagogical Drama: Freedom, Time, and God’s Patience

Fundamental to Origen’s doctrine of re-embodiment is his insistence on free will. Souls are not coerced into salvation; they must be healed, instructed, and converted through experience. For this reason, Origen views history as a divine pedagogy, in which God provides repeated opportunities for fallen souls to return to Him.

He affirms in Contra Celsum VI.26:

“The end is always like the beginning, so that the final restoration will be like the original unity, when every enemy shall be subdued, and God shall be all in all.”

This “end” includes all rational creatures, even the most rebellious. But Origen is careful to maintain that salvation cannot occur apart from the purification and renewal of the will, and that such purification is best achieved through the trials of bodily existence.

Conclusion

Origen’s doctrine of re-embodiment flows from a deeply integrated vision of anthropology, pedagogy, and divine justice. For Origen, salvation is not magical or automatic; it is the result of moral healing and voluntary return to God, and this requires a context in which the soul can choose and grow—namely, embodied life. The soul that dies in sin is not doomed to eternal torment, but must re-enter the “gymnasium” of the body to continue its ascent toward the Good. In this way, Origen’s theology preserves both the justice of God and the freedom of the creature, while offering a robust account of how even the most hardened souls may eventually be saved—through divine patience, restorative discipline, and the renewing grace of embodiment.

References

Origen, De Principiis, trans. G. W. Butterworth (New York: Harper & Row, 1966).
Origen, Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans, trans. Thomas P. Scheck (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2001).
Origen, Contra Celsum, trans. Henry Chadwick (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1953).
Brian E. Daley, “Apokatastasis and the Return to Unity: Gregory of Nyssa and Origen on Universal Salvation,” in The Hope of the Early Church: A Handbook of Patristic Eschatology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 45–76.
Ilaria Ramelli, The Christian Doctrine of Apokatastasis: A Critical Assessment from the New Testament to Eriugena (Leiden: Brill, 2013).

Synthesis and Antithesis in Christian Thought: Common Grace, Divine Love, and Sovereignty

Synthesis and Antithesis in Christian Thought: Common Grace, Divine Love, and Sovereignty

The Christian tradition has long wrestled with the profound tension between the love of God and the sovereignty of God. This dialectic lies at the heart of the doctrine of common grace—the idea that God shows genuine goodness even to those who ultimately perish. But how can a sovereign God, who foreordains all things, simultaneously be said to love those He does not save? Theological systems have developed varied approaches to this paradox, each attempting either to resolve, endure, or redefine the apparent conflict.

This essay examines four prominent models of response:

Arminianism (Dialectical Irrationalism)
Hyper-Calvinism (Dialectical Rationalism)
Sublapsarian Calvinism (Synthetic Irrationalism)
Christian Universalism (Synthetic Rationalism)

Each view represents a different strategy for handling the antithesis between divine love and divine sovereignty—with some collapsing the tension by suppressing one attribute, others embracing paradox, and still others striving for a true synthesis.

I. Arminianism: Dialectical Irrationalism and the Sovereignty of Chance

Arminian theology arose to defend God's universal benevolence and human moral responsibility in contrast to the perceived determinism of classical Calvinism. According to this model, God sincerely wills the salvation of all and provides sufficient grace to everyone, but leaves the final decision to the individual’s free will.

This results in what we may call dialectical irrationalism. On the one hand, God's will is to save all; on the other, most are eternally lost. God is omnipotent, yet His desire is thwarted by human decision. Divine love is exalted, but sovereignty is diminished to make room for libertarian freedom. The result is a cosmos governed not ultimately by God’s decree, but by the unpredictable volition of finite creatures.

This model fails to reconcile the dialectic but merely shifts the problem. God’s universal love becomes tragically ineffective. In preserving divine benevolence, it relegates God’s sovereign purpose to the sidelines and elevates contingency and chance as the final arbiters of salvation history. The internal tension is resolved by suppressing God’s sovereignty in favor of a love that cannot save apart from human permission.

II. Hyper-Calvinism: Dialectical Rationalism and the Eclipse of Divine Love

In stark contrast to Arminianism, hyper-Calvinism—especially in its supralapsarian forms—resolves the tension by preserving divine sovereignty at the expense of divine love. In this model, God does not love all people in any redemptive sense. Christ died only for the elect. Common grace is denied or minimized, and the gospel is not sincerely offered to the non-elect.

This position reflects a form of dialectical rationalism—a strict logical determinism that prizes internal consistency over theological balance. The tension is “resolved” by eliminating one pole of the dialectic. God’s sovereign decree is seen as the singular controlling reality, while His expressions of love and mercy are limited solely to the elect. God's justice and power are emphasized, but His compassion and redemptive yearning are either redefined or denied.

While this view avoids the contradictions of Arminianism and the paradoxes of sublapsarianism, it does so by theological reductionism. It is the mirror image of Arminianism: where the latter absolutizes love and demotes sovereignty, hyper-Calvinism absolutizes sovereignty and erases love. The outcome is a chilling theology in which God's justice is untempered by mercy, and the cross becomes a limited, private transaction rather than a cosmic victory.

Scripture, however, speaks clearly of God’s love for the world (John 3:16), His desire for all to repent (2 Pet. 3:9), and His kindness even to the ungrateful and wicked (Luke 6:35). Hyper-Calvinism explains away these texts and collapses the tension, but at the cost of the full revelation of God’s character.

III. Sublapsarian Calvinism: Synthetic Irrationalism and the Appeal to Paradox

Sublapsarian or classic Reformed Calvinism attempts to maintain both God’s sovereign election and His universal offer of the gospel. It affirms that God genuinely shows kindness to all through common grace and calls all to repentance, even though He has decreed only some to eternal life.

This position embraces what we may call synthetic irrationalism. It tries to hold both poles—divine sovereignty and divine love—without choosing one over the other. However, it does so by appealing to mystery, paradox, or antinomy. Thinkers such as Calvin, J.I. Packer, and R.B. Kuiper argue that the truths of Scripture are sometimes irreconcilable to human logic and must be held in tension.

This view, while commendable in its theological humility, often results in epistemological ambiguity. The appeal to paradox is not a true synthesis but a strategic postponement of resolution. The believer is expected to affirm that God sincerely desires the salvation of all while simultaneously decreeing the damnation of most—without being able to explain how these cohere in the divine nature.

The strength of this view lies in its refusal to collapse the dialectic. But its weakness lies in its lack of constructive resolution. It leaves the believer with a divided picture of God: one who loves all in some ways but damns most in the end, and who commands what He has decreed will never happen. Theological paradox becomes an interpretive grid rather than a mystery to be resolved.

IV. Christian Universalism: Synthetic Rationalism and the Reconciliation of Attributes

The fourth model—Christian universalism, or apokatastasis—offers a genuine synthesis of divine love and sovereignty without suppressing either. Here, God is both truly sovereign and truly loving. He decrees the restoration of all things and will bring it to pass through Christ. Divine love is not frustrated by human will, and divine sovereignty is not arbitrary or unmerciful.

This approach embraces synthetic rationalism. It affirms that all God's attributes cohere perfectly and that the final end of history is the reconciliation of all souls to God (Col. 1:20; 1 Cor. 15:22–28). Hell is understood not as eternal conscious torment, but as a refining and corrective judgment—a severe mercy designed to lead ultimately to repentance and restoration.

In this view, common grace is not a temporary kindness before eternal ruin but a foretaste of redemptive intent. Christ’s atonement is not limited but universal in scope and effect. God’s justice serves His mercy; His wrath is a tool of His love. The “second death” becomes the path to final healing, not endless ruin.

This model avoids the failures of the other three: it does not reduce sovereignty or love, does not suppress Scripture in favor of logic, and does not abandon coherence in favor of paradox. Instead, it resolves the dialectic in a way that preserves God’s glory, exalts Christ’s victory, and upholds the promise that love never fails.

Conclusion

The relationship between divine love and sovereignty presents a real theological challenge. Arminianism seeks to defend God’s love by diminishing sovereignty, leading to dialectical irrationalism. Hyper-Calvinism defends sovereignty by denying universal love, resulting in a cold dialectical rationalism. Sublapsarian Calvinism affirms both but cannot reconcile them, opting instead for synthetic irrationalism under the banner of paradox.

Only Christian universalism offers a synthetic rationalism—a theology where divine love and sovereignty are not at odds but united in God’s ultimate plan to restore all things. In this vision, the cross is not a failed offer or a limited victory, but the triumphant center of redemptive history. Justice and mercy kiss. Sovereignty serves love. And God will be “all in all.”

John Calvin’s View of the Civil Law and Principles for Determining Penalties

John Calvin’s View of the Civil Law and Principles for Determining Penalties
By William M. Brennan

Abstract

John Calvin’s theological vision extended beyond ecclesiastical matters into the realm of civil government and jurisprudence. In his Institutes of the Christian Religion, commentaries, and sermons, Calvin articulated a framework for civil law that sought to balance divine justice with practical governance. While upholding the moral law's enduring authority, Calvin rejected a rigid theonomic application of Mosaic civil statutes in favor of a principled, prudential approach rooted in equity, natural law, and the general equity of God’s law. This essay explores Calvin’s understanding of the civil law and his criteria for determining just penalties within a Christian commonwealth and evaluates his position in relation to modern theonomic thought.

I. Introduction

John Calvin (1509–1564), the Genevan reformer, was deeply invested in questions of political theology. Unlike the radical reformers who often withdrew from civic life, Calvin envisioned a godly polity where civil magistrates were ministers of God’s justice (Rom 13:4). Central to this vision was the appropriate use of civil law—not merely to maintain order but to reflect divine justice in a fallen world. Calvin’s approach to law was not merely exegetical but also philosophical, engaging questions of jurisprudence, penology, and moral theology.

II. Calvin’s Threefold Division of the Law

Like other Reformers, Calvin divided the Mosaic Law into three categories: moral, ceremonial, and civil. The moral law, summarized in the Ten Commandments, retained perpetual validity. The ceremonial law, typifying Christ, was abrogated with the coming of the New Covenant. The civil law, according to Calvin, governed the political life of Israel and was not binding on other nations per se, though it retained instructive value.

In Institutes 4.20.15, Calvin writes:

“The judicial laws given [to Israel]...related to a form of polity...Now inasmuch as that polity had its peculiar laws, these have nothing to do with us.”

Yet Calvin does not dismiss the civil law altogether. Rather, he affirms that its underlying principles, particularly the equity embedded within it, remain instructive for modern legislatures:

“What I have said will become plain if we attend, as we ought, to the purpose for which laws exist...namely, that the lives of men may be regulated according to the equity of natural justice.”

This “equity of natural justice” is crucial to Calvin’s jurisprudence. It allows for adaptation of Mosaic civil laws in accordance with natural law and cultural circumstance, while maintaining the moral principles they contain.

III. The Function of Civil Law

Calvin viewed the civil law as a means to uphold both tables of the moral law. The magistrate is a servant of God, not merely to punish crime but to promote virtue. Civil law must restrain wickedness, preserve peace, and reflect the justice of God. In this, Calvin stood in continuity with Augustine’s City of God, which emphasized the temporal city’s role in maintaining civic order while recognizing its fallenness.

In Institutes 4.20.9, Calvin affirms:

“It is the duty of the magistrate to prevent the true religion, which is contained in God’s law, from being with impunity openly outraged and polluted by public blasphemy.”

Thus, Calvin upheld the use of civil penalties for offenses against both divine and human law—provided they were administered with justice and proportion.

IV. Principles for Determining Penalties

Calvin did not advocate for a strict reproduction of Mosaic penalties. Instead, he emphasized the following principles for determining civil punishments:

General Equity: The enduring principle in a Mosaic statute is its equity, not its literal form. Calvin allowed for diverse penalties across cultures so long as they reflected the same underlying justice.
Natural Law: Calvin believed that all nations possess a natural sense of justice derived from general revelation. Therefore, laws must conform to what reason and conscience dictate as just.
Proportionality: Penalties must be proportionate to the offense. Calvin condemned cruelty and arbitrary severity, favoring punishments that reformed the offender and deterred others without violating humane standards.
Public Utility: Calvin stressed the good of society as a legitimate criterion in determining punishments. Law must serve the common good and not just retaliate.
Moral Gravity: Offenses against God (e.g., idolatry, blasphemy) and neighbor (e.g., murder, theft) deserve distinct levels of punishment based on their moral weight.

In his Commentary on Deuteronomy, Calvin writes:

“Although God appointed a definite punishment for every offense, yet in these punishments, as we shall see, there was always an analogy and proportion to the crime.”

V. Calvin’s Rejection of Theonomic Literalism

Although Calvin held that the magistrate should uphold the moral law, he distanced himself from a theonomic application of Mosaic civil statutes. He explicitly denied that every penalty given to Israel must be carried out in Christian polities:

“We must not think that nations today are bound to the civil polity of Moses, as though there were no room for diversity of laws.”

This divergence from theonomy does not entail moral relativism. Rather, it reflects Calvin’s conviction that divine justice may be contextualized prudently across nations and times without compromising moral absolutes.

VI. Critical Assessment: The Weakness of Calvin and the Strength of Theonomy

While Calvin’s approach to civil law offers a thoughtful and context-sensitive model, it reveals a significant theological and practical vulnerability—namely, his reliance on the conscience and natural reasoning of fallen man to discern and apply justice. In a postlapsarian world, where human judgment is corrupted by sin, it is precarious to place the weight of penology on the subjective sense of equity or the evolving standards of cultural norms. Calvin assumes that civil magistrates, guided by general revelation and conscience, can adequately approximate divine justice. However, Scripture repeatedly warns of the deceptiveness of the human heart (Jer. 17:9) and the futility of reason detached from revelation (Rom. 1:21–22).

In contrast, the theonomic tradition begins not with human conscience but with God’s own revealed standards of justice as found in the civil laws of Israel. Theonomists argue that these case laws are not arbitrary or culturally isolated, but reflect abiding principles grounded in the character of God. While modern application requires thoughtful exegesis and contextual adaptation, theonomy provides a blueprint for justice derived from the only infallible source—Scripture.

Importantly, contemporary theonomists such as Greg Bahnsen do not advocate for a wooden replication of Israel’s civil code. Rather, they uphold the abiding validity of its general equity and the moral authority of the penal structure unless explicitly revoked or altered by New Testament revelation. In doing so, they avoid the subjectivism and relativism that can accompany Calvin’s heavier reliance on prudential conscience. Thus, while Calvin seeks to avoid tyranny through flexibility, he may risk injustice through human fallibility. Theonomists, conversely, seek to safeguard justice by beginning with what God has already declared to be just.

VII. Conclusion

John Calvin's political theology presents a vision of civil law rooted in divine justice, moral order, and prudential governance. He refused to absolutize the Mosaic civil code, instead appealing to principles of equity, natural law, and the enduring moral authority of God's law. Yet his framework also reveals a critical weakness—its dependence on fallen human reason to formulate penalties apart from specific scriptural mandate. In contrast, theonomic thought offers a stronger foundation by rooting penology in the revealed justice of God, using the Mosaic civil law as a guide for modern application. While differences in hermeneutics and continuity remain, both Calvin and the theonomic tradition affirm the need for God-honoring justice in civil society. In an age increasingly untethered from moral absolutes, these traditions offer competing but complementary resources for reclaiming a biblically grounded vision of law and punishment.

References

Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. Henry Beveridge. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1989.
Calvin, John. Commentaries on the Four Last Books of Moses, trans. Charles William Bingham. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1950.
Bahnsen, Greg L. Theonomy in Christian Ethics. Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing, 1977.
Witte, John Jr. Law and Protestantism: The Legal Teachings of the Lutheran Reformation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002.
VanDrunen, David. Natural Law and the Two Kingdoms: A Study in the Development of Reformed Social Thought. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010.
Rushdoony, Rousas J. The Institutes of Biblical Law. Nutley, NJ: Craig Press, 1973.
Frame, John M. The Doctrine of the Christian Life. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2008.

🧠 Escaping Euthyphro’s Snare: Reclaiming Divine Goodness in Reformed Theodicy

By William M. Brennan

The ancient dilemma posed by Socrates in Plato’s Euthyphro remains a thorn in the side of many theological systems:

“Is something good because God wills it, or does God will it because it is good?”

Applied to Christian theology, the challenge becomes this: Is goodness something external to God that He obeys, or is it something arbitrary, defined solely by divine will?

In seeking to protect divine sovereignty, modern Reformed thinkers like Gordon Clark and Herman Hoeksema fall—ironically—into opposite sides of this dilemma. Each departs from classic Reformed orthodoxy and, in doing so, redefines divine goodness in troubling ways.

Clark: Goodness as Arbitrary Divine Fiat

Gordon Clark took a voluntarist view of divine goodness. In his system, whatever God wills is ipso facto good. There is no intrinsic moral structure in God's nature that governs His will. Moral law simply reflects divine volition.

“God’s will is not subject to moral laws; rather, moral laws are the expressions of his will.”
— Religion, Reason, and Revelation, p. 217

“Whatever God does is right, simply because God does it.”
— God and Evil: The Problem Solved, p. 9

The result? God’s power is preserved—but His goodness becomes unintelligible. If justice or cruelty are equally valid under God's sovereign decree, then God becomes unknowable in any moral sense. This collapses ethics into raw divine fiat.

Hoeksema: Goodness as a Principle Above God

On the other extreme stands Herman Hoeksema, a supralapsarian theologian and founder of the Protestant Reformed Churches. Hoeksema also seeks to uphold divine sovereignty but ends up treating God's actions as responses to a higher principle of glory and justice. In this way, goodness becomes a standard above God—a kind of metaphysical blueprint He follows.

“God does not love the reprobate. He hates them and never wills their salvation.”
— Reformed Dogmatics, Vol. 1, p. 310

“Even in time, the reprobate are not the objects of God’s favor or grace… they were never loved.”
— Reformed Dogmatics, Vol. 1, p. 313

In this system, God does not offer salvation out of love or goodness within Himself, but rather as a function of divine justice and glory—concepts treated as higher than His benevolence. Hoeksema, then, reduces goodness to a form of rigid determinism where reprobation is not a sorrowful reality but a cold necessity.

The Orthodox Reformed Answer: Goodness Within God

Classic Reformed orthodoxy, however, offers a better way—by affirming the doctrine of divine simplicity. God is not subject to an external moral law (as Hoeksema implies), nor does He invent goodness by decree (as Clark asserts). Rather:

God is goodness itself.

His will flows from His nature, and His decrees reflect His unchanging, unified, and morally perfect essence.

Theologians like Bavinck, Turretin, and Calvin hold this line with clarity:

“God is not subject to a law above Him, nor is He lawless; His will is the expression of His being, which is holy, wise, and good.”
— Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, Vol. 2, p. 213

“The goodness of God is not an external rule to which He conforms, nor a product of His mere will; it is an essential attribute, eternally in God Himself.”
— Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, Vol. 1, p. 239

“God is the fountain of all righteousness, so that whatever He wills must be considered just… yet His will is never divorced from His nature.”
— John Calvin, Institutes, 3.23.2

In this view, divine sovereignty and divine goodness are not at odds, because God’s will and actions flow from the fullness of who He is—perfect in justice, mercy, wisdom, and love.

The Real Problem with Clark and Hoeksema

Both Gordon Clark and Herman Hoeksema, in their zeal to preserve God's sovereignty, fall into opposite traps:

Clark places goodness below God—as something He arbitrarily defines by command.
Hoeksema places goodness above God—as something He conforms to for the sake of “glory” or “justice.”
Reformed orthodoxy locates goodness within God.

Their common error? They both separate God from goodness in order to avoid the charge that He is not morally upright in ordaining sin, evil, or reprobation. In doing so, they seek to escape the force of assigning less-than-benevolent motivations to God's handling of part of His creation.

But the true safeguard of God's righteousness is not abstraction, redefinition, or determinism—it is the eternal, perfect, unified character of God Himself.

Final Thoughts

The Euthyphro dilemma is not an impassable wall for biblical theism. The Reformed tradition, rooted in Scripture and enriched by confessional theology, teaches that God is good because He is God, and all His ways are just.

“The Lord is righteous in all His ways, and kind in all His works.”
— Psalm 145:17

References

Gordon H. Clark, Religion, Reason, and Revelation (Craig Press, 1961), p. 217.
Gordon H. Clark, God and Evil: The Problem Solved (Trinity Foundation, 1996), p. 9.
Herman Hoeksema, Reformed Dogmatics, Vol. 1 (Reformed Free Publishing Association, 2004), pp. 310–313.
Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, Vol. 2: God and Creation, trans. John Vriend (Baker Academic, 2004), p. 213.
Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, Vol. 1, trans. George M. Giger (P&R, 1992), p. 239.
John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Westminster Press, 1960), 3.23.2.