I read Letters to a Young Calvinist because I’d already enjoyed quite a few of James Smith’s other books. But unlike his other works, Letters is written in a popular style and is intended, largely, for young folks already captivated by the reformed tradition and eager to learn more about it. As a number of reviewers have already mentioned and as is clear from the title, Letters consists of a number of ‘letters’ to a certain Jesse who, coming from a Pentecostal tradition, is new to reformed/Calvinist theology. Throughout, Smith offers some useful advice, such as a warning to avoid pride – “[n]ow is as good a time as any to warn you about one of the foremost temptations that accompanies Reformed theology: pride” (6) – and to continue attending church – “it’s as if you’re saying you’re ‘too Reformed’ for any church!” (87). Further, Smith provides some historical background, tracing Reformed theology back to Augustine, drawing a distinction between Scottish and Dutch Calvinism, and arguing that Calvinism should be embraced holistically, as something more than TULIP and a belief in predestination.
I have three main criticisms. The first is almost insignificant but I’ll mention it anyway. I think Smith should have waited before writing this book. He’s a very prolific author and the idea of writing ‘letters’ seems to suggest, at least in my mind, a correspondence between an older ‘wise’ figure and much younger ‘naive’ reader. Though Smith writes from his own experience, I felt he wasn’t yet old enough to really lend the force needed to his arguments. Along the same lines, it seems that Smith is trying perhaps too hard to be relevant to his young reader, adding Lord of the Rings analogies and whatnot.
The second criticism has to do with Smith’s insistence on the modernism/post-modernism distinction that divides so-called primitivists who want to go straight back to the Bible, leaping over tradition, and catholics who want to accept the authority of various church creeds, fathers, and theologians. Smith argues that the former are caught in the illusion of modernity, thinking they can access the source – scripture – without any mediation. Catholics, on the other hand – and he uses this term very loosely – realize that we can never approach scripture directly and without the influence of tradition. As Smith writes, “the Reformers were not revolutionaries; that is, they were not out to raze the church to the ground, get back to some ‘pure’ set of New Testament church principles, and start from scratch. In short, they didn’t see themselves as leapfrogging over the centuries of post-apostolic tradition . . . they understood the Spirit as unfolding the wisdom of the Word over the centuries in the voices of Augustine and Gregory the Great, in Chysostom and Anselm. To say the Reformed tradition is ‘catholic’ is just to say that it affirms this operation of the Spirit in history” (46). Later he writes that “[f]or folks like you and me . . . I think this is one of the hardest things to absorb. By ‘primitivist’ I mean Christian traditions that have a basically negative view of history and instead see themselves as repristinating ‘pure’ biblical teaching or ‘New Testament church principles.’ I absorbed this through my conversion amongst the Plymouth Brethren, but the same primitivism characterized the Pentecostal churches of which you and I were a part. It’s the leapfrogging I’ve suggested before: leaping over the gifts of teachers like Augustine and Ambrose, as if we are somehow better equipped to read the Scriptures on our own. In a strange way, such hubris reflects the chronological snobbery of the Enlightenment, which saw liberation from tradition as the mark of ‘rational’ maturity. Paradoxically, this is why such primitivism is actually quite modern” (46-47). I want to point out two problems with Smith’s analysis. First, he seems to argue that ‘primitivism’ involves both (a) not acknowledging the church fathers as authoritative and (b) ignoring the church fathers. Second, he seems to think that we can overcome modernism’s obsession with achieving an impossible ‘direct access’ to scripture by reading it through the church fathers. The first point is wrong because primitivist traditions only reject (a) and not (b). They believe that the church fathers and others may or may not have interesting insights and they are also willing to challenge them. The difference between primitivists and catholics – as Smith defines them – is not about whether one position reads historical theologians while the other does not. The difference, rather, has to do with whether these historical theologians are or are not above criticism. It is precisely the virtue of the primitivist position that primitivists do not add to scripture all kinds of historical documents – creeds, commentaries, sermons, and so on – that only seminary- or university-educated theologians have the time to read and understand. Primitivists thereby allow scripture to be more accessible to lay people and leave the church fathers open to criticism; they do not bind their members to texts difficult to access. Further, the difference between modern ‘direct access’ and post-modern ‘mediated access’ does not disappear once we add the authority of church fathers to the authority of scripture. If we cannot read scripture directly or without a certain perspective and tradition, neither can we read the creeds or Augustine or Calvin directly. If we must take as authoritative the writings of the church fathers in order to overcome the naïve notion of a ‘direct access’ to scripture then we must also take as authoritative the writings about Augustine in order to understand Augustine. Further, we must take the writings about the wrings about Augustine in order to understand the writings about Augustine. The difference between ‘direct access’ and ‘mediated access’ I argue does not have to do with how many historical sources we take to be authoritative; it has to do, rather, with whether or not we take as final any one interpretation of scripture. In other words, the modernist is the one who believes that her or his own reading of scripture is the final reading of scripture to which nothing can be taken away or added. The less naïve reader, by contrast, is the one who tries to develop the most coherent and convincing interpretation of scripture as possible while realizing that God might completely surprise us.
My third criticism has to do with Smith’s disregard for dispensationalism. In Letters Smith rightfully contrasts dispensational theology with covenant theology. Whereas dispensationalism is largely a grassroots movement and is not endorsed by many if any ‘self-respecting university professors of theology’ (see the introduction to Loraine Boettner’s book The Millennium) covenant theology is closely associated with the reformed tradition. In general, Smith again associates dispensationalism with his roots among the Plymouth Brethren and, like primitivism, rejects it as problematic. So far so good. But Smith’s arguments against dispensationalism are quite bad. First, like too many others, he poisons the well by associating dispensationalism with the Left Behind series. And of course, anything associated with the Left Behind series must automatically be wrong . . . . “it buys into the Jesus-and-me picture of individual salvation . . . . [I]n other words, it fails to see that since creation, and even in spite of the fall, God has been creating and calling one ‘people’ to be his own” (72). Further, he argues that covenant theology is superior to dispensationalism because it “helps us see the Scriptures as one narrative, one unfolding drama in multiple acts or chapters, rather than seeing it as either a series of private dealings between God and individuals or a chopped-up conglomeration of discrete epochs or dispensations in which God seems to keep changing the rules” (73-74). This really isn’t a charitable reading of dispensationalism. Again, if Smith wants to argue against a position, he should present the position in as convincing a light as possible. I’m not sure who Smith is reading when he claims that dispensationalism ignores the continuity of scripture or God’s covenants with his people but I don’t recognize dispensationalism in his critique. I think he’s criticizing something else, something he thinks is dispensationalism. I don’t mind if Smith finds dispensationalism unconvincing but he should at least demonstrate why. To me, he only seems to be demonstrating that he really doesn’t know much about it. Maybe he should begin with Charles Ryrie’s Dispensationalism.