Can Protestants Embrace the Classical Tradition? (Part III)
In the previous two installments, we considered how Protestant commitments enable the proper use of church tradition and how the Protestant distinction between nature and grace reconciles the classical tradition to Scripture. In this final article, we will consider how various Reformers approached and incorporated the classics into their own life and ministry.
Classical Tradition
As I argued previously, Protestants may faithfully engage the pagan works of antiquity thanks to their conception of nature and grace. Standing against any radical dualism between nature and grace, the Reformed understanding allows a faithful approach to reading pagan philosophers. Grace does not destroy nature—rather, it restores nature. Such an approach is thoroughly Augustinian, not an innovation from the 16th century.
But what is tradition? The word tradition comes from the Latin tradere, which means to hand over something. It was formerly used as a synonym for treason, as in handing over one’s kingdom to another. It has also carried a more general meaning of simply passing something to another. Tradition consists not merely of old things, but of things judged worthy of maintaining and preserving. Racism is old. Sin is old. But these things have not been intentionally passed on generationally. Like weeds, various evils tend to resurface again and again no matter how often the garden is tended.
The good things passed on in tradition are noble and beautiful things that are worthy of one’s time and effort. It takes effort to carry your father out of a burning city. The “digital nomad” claims a sense of freedom by forgoing possessions, but he also has no place or roots. He carries no heirlooms of the past and thus he can be blown away by the wind. Tradition gains value and weight as it is passed on again and again. It is much harder to jettison a 2,000-year-old commonplace than a 20-year-old slogan. The longer something has been repeatedly affirmed as true, good, or beautiful, the more reticent we should be to disregard it.
It is also important to understand that tradition is not infallible. It arises from the judgment of many people over long periods of time and thus carries a strong weight. That said, tradition can err. Although it increases in gravitas with each successive generation that affirms it, tradition is not immune from correction. It remains a ministerial authority and witness to the truth, but it is not an authority in se. As our observations of the physical world grow in number and depth, we revise and sometimes correct traditional ways of thinking. The church debated and clarified much of its foundational doctrine in the first few centuries A.D. through conflict with heretics. But Sola fide and sola Scriptura, although present in early church history, were not clarified with depth or precision until the conflict of the Reformation.
This is why C.S. Lewis taught that chronological snobbery only runs one way. We would fault a child for trusting his peers, but not for trusting his parents, even in cases where his peers were right and parents wrong. It is a good and right impulse to believe things that are old over things that are new. Chronological snobbery is not a formal fallacy, meaning that it is sometimes appropriate to appeal to something’s age as an argument for its truth. Arguing from tradition is stronger than arguing from novelty, but it does not lead directly to absolute certainty.
For Protestants, especially those of Reformed convictions, there is a definite tradition to draw upon. It has been 500 years since the beginning of the Reformation. Many 16th-17th century Reformers clarified how Christians may properly understand the pagan classics, engage in politics, and relate to church tradition. It strikes me as hubris to claim the tradition of the Reformation while dismissing the careful, biblical argumentation of the original Reformers and revising or ignoring the confessions produced during the time. Unfortunately, many who claim to be Reformed today would defrock the writers of these confessions and possibly excommunicate them. Modern Christians should not hastily sweep aside hundreds of years of tradition and exegesis.
Protestant Engagement with the Classics
As is usually the case with church polemics, many of the objections to a Protestant engagement with the classics or with tradition can be eliminated when you substitute John Calvin for Steven Furtick. It is easy to criticize the fog machines, light shows, squirt gun baptisms, and circus tricks of megachurches. Reformed Christians hate these things too. It is much harder to argue against Melanchthon, Bucer, Vermigli, Turretin, Calvin, Milton, or even a contemporary like Lewis. Pointing to those who reject Scripture’s authority or interpret it badly says nothing about the historic Protestant view of Scripture and tradition. Sola Scriptura is a statement about authority, not a comprehensive hermeneutic.
Protestants have a long history of thoughtful engagement with the classics. For our purposes, I will restrict myself to Protestant thinkers after 1517, but first, I must make two notes. First, we might consider that we are all Protestants now. The Orthodox became Protestant in 1054, the Protestants in 1517, and the Roman Catholics in 1965. Second, Protestants claim church history prior to 1517. Dante, Thomas, Benedict, Augustine, Chrysostom, Origen, Irenaeus, Polycarp—these belong to us. There is one church. We could even claim the modern Roman Catholic church did not truly exist until 1534 and the Council of Trent, but they have reinvented themselves so many times it is hard to keep track.
But let me return to the Protestants. As Richard Muller has pointed out in his Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, the Reformed were eclectic in their use of philosophical systems. You will find them adopting Aristotle’s four causes, even adding an instrumental cause. Some are more Platonic; others combine Aristotelian and Platonic ideas at times. Vermigli wrote a commentary on the first books of Aristotle’s Ethics, one of roughly 50 commentaries on the Ethics written by 16th-17th century Protestants. [1] William Weaver summarizes Melanchthon’s views of Homer’s writings as “supreme for its eloquence and wisdom, excepting Holy Scripture.” [2] Calvin, trained as a humanist, wrote an extensive commentary on Seneca’s De Clementia.
Philosophy and Ethics
Protestants are firm in their conviction that philosophy is a different discipline than theology. Philosophy studies things revealed by natural means, employing the efforts of the mind. Such study carries with it the possibility of going astray and exceeding the discipline’s proper bounds. Philosophy can become a muddied stream of vain speculation when it wanders beyond what has been revealed, but when contained within its proper limits, it is a pure water flowing from God’s spring. Natural truth does not conflict with divine revelation.
Melanchthon, in his commentary on the Ethics, discriminates between philosophy and theology in this way: “Philosophy teaches nothing about the will of God, remission of sins, of fear or faith towards God. However, it does teach precepts about external and public customs of life, such as the public laws of a state. But the gospel proclaims to us the will of God, forgives sins, promises the Holy Spirit, who sanctifies the hearts of believers and brings eternal life” [3] The two disciplines have different purposes and content, but both are useful to the Christian who lives with an eye towards heaven and his feet upon the soil.
Vermigli identifies a fundamental difference in how philosophy and theology relate the active and contemplative modes. In philosophy, the active precedes the contemplative since the mind must be free from emotion and at rest before it can attend to studies. In theology, we first believe God’s Word and then good works follow through the renewal of the Holy Spirit. [4] Vermigli continues,
The cause of this difference is that human contemplation is gained by study and diligent reflection; therefore moderation of emotion is required. But what we believe is received by the inspiration of God; therefore, there is no need of those preparations. According to human reason, men should first do righteous deeds before there is justification. But the order of divine sanctification is established far otherwise; first we believe, and afterwards are justified, and then the powers of our minds are restored by the Holy Spirit and by grace and finally just and honest deeds follow. [5]
Related to this distinction between philosophy and theology is the Reformation debate over whether justification comes first from works or faith. The Protestant contention is that believers are justified by faith alone and then good works follow. Such a view carries implications for approaching philosophy and ethical studies. The substance of natural truths and good works is always the same, but the context from which we pursue understanding is critical.
Human contemplation is valuable and can discover many things. The Ethics provide instruction in virtue that in some cases, resemble precepts taught in Scripture. Yet Aristotle does not teach about forgiveness of sins or justification by faith. A fundamental divide remains between the natural man and the Christian. The substance of virtue and vice may be the same, but “powers, properties, and principles” differ, and “From these many differences it happens that substantially the very same thing may be pleasing to God or damned by his judgment.” [6]
Theology provides boundaries to the proper use of philosophy and natural science and keeps these disciplines within their proper bounds. Vermigli writes that we may study philosophy with great profit because through it we may learn the limits of human reason and see how far Scripture surpasses philosophy. It helps us understand where natural man has strayed in his understanding. Studying theology helps us avoid the potential pitfalls of philosophy. [7]
Classics
Thanks to their conviction that grace renews and restores nature, Protestants are free to use the classics in the study of human nature and truths accessible through reason. Scripture does not explicitly reveal all true knowledge. Human rationality provides insights into the natural world, and such insights can teach us about God. You can learn about virtue and vice from Aristotle and Marcus Aurelius. While their works are incomplete expressions of the human good, they nevertheless can aid the Christian in pursuing godliness.
Consider, for instance, the liberal arts. While writers like Cassiodorus contend that the Scriptures are the greatest teachers of the liberal arts, the pagan writers provide terminology and categories to aid our thinking about these arts. All Christians benefit from the art of grammar—indeed, the Protestant Reformers desired that every Christian would be able to read and interpret (according to their ability) the Scriptures. Logic is sorely lacking in our discourse. The principles of rhetoric have not changed since the advent of Christ. Again, grace does not destroy nature. The liberal arts should not be done away with or ignored simply because we have been called to a heavenly life.
Instead, grace orders the liberal arts towards heavenly ends, even as the earthly life is ordered to the heavenly. When a husband and wife convert, they do not cease to have a marriage. Rather, they now have a Christian marriage ordered to the heavenly good. They pray together, read Scripture together, repent, and forgive one another. Their lives are shaped by their heavenly calling, even as they labor on the earth. Thus, Christians ought not to discard the pagan teaching of the liberal arts but rather order and refine it according to the Scriptures.
To live well in the world, we need more than Scripture. It may sound like heresy, but Scripture alone is not sufficient for earthly life. The gospel does not teach us exactly how to order civil government or what our immigration policy should be. The gospel does not comment on tariffs or which materials we should use to construct buildings. It does not tell us how to farm crops or cook food. When it comes to education, the Scriptures do not instruct us in the liberal or mechanical arts; these are learned by study and practice.
The Reformed tradition can (and should) appropriate the classical tradition thanks to its conviction that grace does not destroy but renews and restores nature. Natural philosophy is profitable for the ordering of external things, while revelation addresses the spiritual state of man. The ethical sciences regulate the bodily life, but the gospel orders man towards heavenly life. Each discipline serves its purpose in cooperation with the others.
Conclusion
The question remains: What shall Protestants do with Luther? We can let Luther be Luther, recognizing the particular moment in history he inhabited. Note the corruptions of the Roman church in need of reform during Luther’s time. Allow him to be a hyperbolic and zealous figure who starts with Molotov cocktails before a calm dinner conversation. Remember that when Luther castigates Aristotle’s influence on the church, he is attacking Aristotle’s metaphysics and model of sanctification. On this central issue, Luther is correct. Elsewhere, Luther is more moderate in his statements about Aristotle. In his lectures on Genesis, he positively uses Aristotle’s concept of equity or justice to expound on the passage. [8] In his letter to the nobility, Luther concedes, “I should be glad to see Aristotle’s books on Logic, Rhetoric, and Poetics, retained or used in an abridged form; as textbooks for the profitable training of young people in speaking and preaching. But the commentaries and notes should be abolished.” [9]
The Protestant’s commitment to sola Scriptura and his conviction that grace restores nature allows him to faithfully engage with church tradition and the classics. Nature remains ontologically prior to revelation. Revelation, however, has redemptive priority and it interprets and clarifies natural revelation. Therefore, Christians may (and should) read the classics with great profit, rejecting whatever conflicts with Scripture but allowing nature to reveal herself. The classics remain instructive as we pursue the liberal arts and other earthly goods. Yet the Christian must always carefully weigh his insights and strive to order the earthly towards the heavenly. C.S. Lewis remains one of the best models for this kind of engagement. Although he may have placed Aristotle’s works in hell, he favorably cites Plato in Aslan’s country. Lewis was not rejecting pagan philosophy as such; he was just taking sides.
Endnotes
[1] See Manfred Svensson, The Aristotelian Tradition in Early Modern Protestantism: Sixteenth and Seventeenth-Century Commentaries on the Ethics and the Politics (New York City, NY: Oxford University Press, 2024).
[2] William P. Weaver, Homer in Wittenberg: Rhetoric, Scholarship, Prayer (New York City, NY: Oxford University Press, 2023), 114.
[3] Philip Melancthon, In Aristotelis Ethica commentarii, 5, author’s translation.
[4] Peter Martyr Vermigli, Commentary on Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, ed. Emidio Campi and Joseph C. McLelland (Kirksville, MO: Truman State University Press, 2006), 14.
[5] Ibid.,14.
[6] Ibid., 15.
[7] Ibid., 16.
[8] Matthew Mason, “Why Protestants Read Aristotle’s Ethics,” Ad Fontes, March 9, 2022, https://adfontesjournal.com/theology/why-protestants-read-aristotles-ethics/.
[9] Martin Luther, Works of Martin Luther, trans. C.M. Jacobs, vol. II (Philadelphia, PA: A.J. Holman Company, 1915), 147.
