Humble Calvinism
By J. A. Medders
The Good Book Company, 2019
128 pages (paperback), $12.99
If you’ve been part of Western Christianity for the past fifteen or twenty years, you’ve probably run into a brand of Calvinism—or I should say Calvin-ist—that can’t easily be described as “humble.” It’s this issue that Jeff Medders confronts in his excellent book Humble Calvinism, by rightly pointing out that if you’re a Calvinist, then having a heart-understanding of the doctrines of grace should make you humble, not arrogant. In the opening pages, he recounts the story of George Whitefield being asked if he and John Wesley would see each other in heaven. Whitefield replied, “No, I don’t think we will. . . . Mr. Wesley will be so near the throne and I will be so far in the back that I will not be able to see him” (27). This type of Calvinism reminds us that we’re united in something greater than our differences, and Medders does this by cracking “down on the five points, not so we can learn how to take down the opposition but so we can see what happens when the points get into our hearts” (29).
The book is written not from a reactionary impulse to scold offending Calvinists, but from the heart of someone who has done a lot of personal introspection on the subject and come out the better for it. For this reason, many of the experiences he describes will hit home for readers. If you’re a Calvinist, and willing to admit it, you’ve probably been the arrogant Calvinist found in the author’s stories. As he puts it, “There’s a fine line between rejoicing over the God we know and rubbing the doctrine we know in people’s faces” (21). If we’re honest, we’ve done the latter more than we would like to admit.
Medders puts a different perspective on the doctrines of grace in order to push back against the theological elitism of some Reformed circles, and to remind Calvinists of the great love and mercy of God in Jesus Christ. For instance, he reframes “total depravity” as “Total Dependency” to emphasize that our depravity implies that we are wholly dependent on Christ for everything (69). Medders does not remake the doctrine into something that it formerly wasn’t. Instead, he shifts his readers’ focus so that we see our depravity not just as an existential condition and a willful violation but also as a condition creating a need that only God’s grace can satisfy.
When Medders discusses election, he reminds us that its purpose is not our inclusion into a select club, but our praise of God’s grace (93) and the glory of his name. His chapter on the “L” petal of the TULIP—“limited atonement”—stands out in particular. Like many others, Medders is not fond of the word limited and changes it to “definite.” The word limited carries with it the implication that there are only so many spots in heaven; and even though many more people want in, God—heaven’s fire marshal—won’t build the place out to accommodate a greater occupancy (98). The author reminds us that the actual span of God’s grace is greater than, not lesser or equal to, what we can imagine (98). He writes that those unpersuaded by “definite atonement” generally remain that way because they feel: (1) it’s just a logical step taken from the doctrine of election and not something found explicitly in God’s word (98); and (2) it defines redemption negatively—in terms of what God didn’t do—instead of positively—in terms of what God has done (96–97). By focusing on passages such as Matthew 1:21 and John 10:14–16, he demonstrates the doctrine’s biblical origins and enables the reader to better understand all that is entailed in limited atonement, moving beyond the caricature to the depth and breadth of what salvation for the lost in Christ means.
The force of his arguments is made all the more persuasive by his conversational tone and thoughtful articulation. One might think that writing an attractive, arresting book necessarily compromises the content, but this is not the case. While taking care to accommodate his language and tone to readers of every level, he does so without sacrificing insight or biblical integrity. Almost every page left me echoing the psalmist’s praise—“What god is great like our God?” (Ps. 77:13)—as I gave thanks to the Lord for the salvation of his redeemed.
In keeping with his plan to help everyone better understand the theological distinctives of Calvinism, Medders includes a helpful “bridge chapter” where he provides a brief history of the doctrines of grace, common misconceptions about TULIP, and term definitions, all of which make it an invaluable resource for both new and curious students of Scripture and theology.
If you’re a Calvinist, this is a helpful refresher on not-oft-considered aspects of the doctrines of grace. If you’re not—and maybe even hostile toward Calvinists/ism—this is a good introduction. Either way, “Humble Calvinism—real Calvinism—is about both orthodoxy and orthopraxy: about right doctrine and the right practice, posture, and passion.” This is something every Christian should consider, and Medders has written an edifying aid to all of us looking to grow in both areas.
Matt Boga is the associate pastor at Reality Church of Stockton in California. In his free time Matt enjoys reading, building with his hands, and playing basketball. You can follow him on Twitter at @mattboga.
