Thinkers in the ancient world sought to plumb the depths of ultimate reality. With that quest for ultimate reality came the birth of the discipline of philosophy. Some philosophers focused on one particular aspect of philosophy called metaphysics (ultimate being). Others focused their attention on epistemology (the science of knowing). Still others stressed in their investigation the basic principles and elements of ethics (the study of the good and the right). And others focused on the ultimate foundations for aesthetics (the study of the beautiful). One philosopher stood out as being deeply involved in the study of all of these matters as well as others. His name was Aristotle. Because Aristotle's philosophical investigation was so comprehensive that it encompassed all of the above concerns of philosophy, he earned for himself the supreme epithet, namely, "the Philosopher." Among students of philosophy, if passing mention is made of the title "the Philosopher," everybody understands that that title can be a reference to only one person -- Aristotle.

In a similar manner, the study of theology historically has brought to the surface outstanding thinkers and scholars. Some are known for their specific ability to create a synthesis between theology and secular philosophy. Augustine, for example, was known for his ability to take precepts from the philosophy of Plato and blend them with biblical theology. Much of Augustine's theology was therefore of a philosophical kind. The same could be said to a certain degree of Thomas Aquinas, who gave us a similar synthesis between Aristotelian philosophy and Christian thought. Among the sixteenth-century magisterial Reformers, we notice that Luther, being a brilliant student of language, brought to the theological table an uncanny ability to provide vignettes of insight into particular questions of truth. But Luther was not a systematician by nature, and so he could not be the theologian of theologians. He never developed a full-orbed systematic theology for the instruction of the church. That task in the sixteenth century was left to the genius of the Genevan theologian John Calvin.

Calvin brought to the study of theology a passion for biblical truth and a coherent understanding of the Word of God. Of all of the thinkers of the sixteenth century, Calvin was most noted for his ability to provide a systematic theological understanding of Christian truth. His magnum opus, Institutes of the Christian Religion, remains to this day a titanic work in the field of systematic theology. Luther did not live long enough to recognize the full impact of Calvin's work, though he did see that Calvin would become a towering figure. It was left to one who knew Calvin and his work more extensively, namely, Philip Melancthon, Luther's assistant and an impressive scholar in his own right, to give Calvin the sobriquet "the Theologian." Thus, if one mentions "the Philosopher," we understand that to mean a reference to Aristotle. On the other hand, if one mentions "the Theologian," the heirs of the Reformation think exclusively of John Calvin.

In our day there seems to be an ongoing battle between advocates of systematic theology and advocates of biblical theology. We are living in a time of unprecedented antipathy toward rationality and logic. Where systematic theology used to reign supreme in theological seminaries, it has all but vanished, exiled to the perimeter of academic studies. This antipathy toward rationality and logic finds its nadir in the modern allergy against systematic theology, with nothing to fill its place except the expansion of biblical theology. A possible tendency exists in biblical theology to interpret the Bible atomistically without a concern for coherency and unity. This dichotomy between biblical theology and systematic theology is a classic example of the fallacy of the false dilemma, sometimes called the either-or fallacy. If we look to John Calvin, we see a scholar whose mastery of the content of Scripture was unparalleled. Calvin had a passion for the Bible, as well as a monumental knowledge of the Bible, and yet he is known as a systematic theologian. He was not a systematic theologian in the sense that he took some extra-biblical philosophical system and forced it upon the Bible. For him, a system was not a preconceived Procrustean bed to which the Bible was forced to conform. On the contrary, Calvin's system of doctrine was the result of his attempt to find the coherent substance of the Bible itself. That is, Calvin worked out the system that is within Scripture, not a system that is imposed upon Scripture. Calvin was convinced that the Word of God is coherent and that God does not speak in contradictions or in illogical statements. It has been said a multitude of times that consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds. If that is in fact true, then one would have to come to the conclusion that the smallest mind in the universe is the mind of God, because God in His thinking is altogether consistent and altogether coherent. It is in that appreciation of the nature of God that Calvin sought passionately to set forth the unity of the Word of God. In that regard, he has done a masterful service to the history of Christian thought. Some people see Calvinism, bearing the name of John Calvin, as an odious distortion of the Word of God. Those who appreciate Calvin's commitment to biblical truth see Calvinism as "a nickname for biblical Christianity," as Spurgeon said.

Calvin in debate could draw on his encyclopedic knowledge of biblical passages, as well as the ability to quote at length from ancient thinkers such as Augustine and Cicero. But above all things, Calvin sought to be true to the Word of God. He was the biblical theologian par excellence who was at the same time a singularly gifted systematic theologian.

We owe a great debt to this man. He is God's gift to the church, not only for the sixteenth century but for all time. We therefore join the multitudes who are celebrating the 500th birthday of John Calvin in the year 2009.

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Dr. R.C. Sproul is founder and president of Ligonier Ministries and senior minister of preaching and teaching at Saint Andrew's in Sanford, Florida, and he is author of the book Faith Alone.

For more than thirty years, Dr. R.C. Sproul has thoroughly and concisely analyzed weighty theological, philosophical, and biblical topics in Right Now Counts Forever, drawing out practical applications for the Christian in his own engaging style.

There are church buildings that are designed to give no hint of the building's true purpose as a house of worship. They're built to look more like town meeting halls. The chancel is no longer called the chancel, it's called the stage. The pulpit is not called a pulpit, it's called a lectern, and the congregation isn't called a congregation, but it's called an audience. Part of this is a desire to break through the old traditions that people have become inoculated against and no longer want any part of. In at least some cases, it is due to an abiding antipathy to beauty in worship, based on a desire to avoid an empty form of worship that is merely external. The church wants to exhibit that worship comes from the heart, not from external stimuli.

A crisis arises every time a congregation goes through a building program. Perhaps more people leave the church over what color the church basement is painted than over correct doctrine. Often, somebody will say, "We shouldn't spend money on our sanctuary. It would be better to give it to missions or to feed the poor," and how can one argue with that? On the other hand, some say, "We want the sanctuary to be beautiful. We want it to be a place that expresses our desire to honor the magnificence of God." That tension is always there.

It's easy for us to make our churches and our sanctuaries not so much a reflection of our desire to honor God with beauty, but rather an attempt to recreate the Tower of Babel and to build a monument to ourselves, to our affluence and our status. That's a precipitous danger anytime we're building a church. So we need to remember that when God built a church, He was concerned that it communicate not just His beauty but His glory, and His glory alone.

No church going through a building project has unlimited finances, but new buildings don't have to be overwhelmingly expensive. Whatever we do, with whatever budget we have, should be done tastefully and with a view toward making the church building a visible expression of our desire to honor God--in the architecture and in the adornment. Everything ought to be weighed and considered, even down to the matter of whether the pastor should wear a robe and, if so, how it should look; for what he wears will have an impact on the worship experience of the people. I sometimes wonder if we are more concerned about our own appearance, decorating our own bodies and our own homes, to a greater degree than we are of honoring God in worship. This should not be. Our church buildings and our church services should be marked by visible beauty, so that we might be reminded of the glory and beauty of God.

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From A Taste for Heaven: Worship in the Light of Eternity by R.C. Sproul.

It certainly is clear that the New Testament puts an emphasis on the Christian's responsibility to be a model of civil obedience. In Romans 13, Paul tells us that the powers that be are ordained by God. That doesn't mean that they are sanctioned by God or that God endorses everything that civil governments do; we know better than that. But Paul is saying that it is God who brings government to pass, and we are called to submit to the rulers of the government out of respect for Christ.

Peter says that we ought to obey the civil magistrates "for the Lord's sake" (1 Pet. 2:13-17). How is Christ glorified by my submitting to the governor of the state of Florida or to the Congress of the United States of America? I think the broad issue here is the ultimate biblical struggle between competing voices of authority, the principles of Satan and of God. The issue is, Does the human person manifest a spirit of obedience to the law of God, or do we participate in a spirit of lawlessness? It's interesting that the Antichrist in the New Testament is identified with the man of lawlessness.

I think that when we are called to obey the civil magistrates, it's because the New Testament sees a hierarchical structure of authority, and that the ultimate authority in heaven and earth is God. God delegates authority to
his only begotten Son: "All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth" (Matt. 28:18). Yet underneath the authority of the Son, who is the King of kings and the Lord of lords, are levels of earthly authority, such as government at its various levels down to the authority of employers over employees and parents over children. We see that ultimately authority finds its sanction in God's authority and sovereignty. The principle is not difficult to understand: If I am willy-nilly and careless in my obedience to authority at the lower levels, I am therefore implicitly placing myself in a posture of disobedience to the ultimate authority that stands above and behind the earthly. It is the law of God that we disobey. We apply this principle when we say that a child who doesn't learn to respect his parents will have trouble respecting anything or anyone else. By my being scrupulous in my civil obedience, bending over backwards to obey my teachers, my employers, my governors, and my police officers, I am honoring Christ, who is the ultimate model of authority and of obedience to the law.

Is it is ever justifiable to engage in revolt? Many Christians would say no. This was a crucial question at the time of the American Revolution, and Christian theologians fell on both sides of that issue. I believe that those who did justify the Revolution said the only time it's justifiable to revolt is when the government itself becomes lawless and functions in an illegal or unlawful manner. In colonial America the revolt was against the unlawful taxation that was taking place. That requires a longer history lesson than we have time for here.

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Quoted in Now, That's a Good Question! by Tyndale House Publishers. Available here.

We must also consider the role of the laws of nature....If a biological structure can be explained in terms of those natural laws, then we cannot conclude that it was designed.

John Calvin was a churchman for all ages. He was a reformer par excellence. He was a godly pastor who equipped his people for ministry. He was a humble revolutionary. He was a loyal husband, father, and friend. But above all Calvin was a man whose mind was humbled and whose heart was mastered by the Lord God Almighty. His life's prayer -- "I offer my heart to you, O Lord, promptly and sincerely" -- was an unwavering declaration of surrender to the Lord, whom he sought to love with all of his heart, soul, mind, and strength.

While many Christians throughout the world may be familiar with some of Calvin's doctrines, most are unfamiliar with the man who was so devoted to prayer and the ministry of God's Word (Acts 6:4). Given all that the Lord accomplished in him and through him, his legacy to us is one of biblical, doctrinal, and ecclesiastical integrity. As such, we would do well to heed the words of Calvin's friend Theodore Beza, who wrote, "Since it has pleased God that Calvin should continue to speak to us through his writings, which are so scholarly and full of godliness, it is up to future generations to go on listening to him until the end of the world, so that they might see our God as he truly is and live and reign with him for all eternity."

Calvin's greatness was not in his service to himself but in his surrender to God, as B. B. Warfield recognized: "Here we have the secret of Calvin's greatness and the source of his strength unveiled to us. No man ever had a profounder sense of God than he; no man ever more unreservedly surrendered himself to the Divine direction." This is Calvin's greatness -- his constant surrender to God.

For those of us who desire not simply to wear the five-pointed badge of Calvinism, but who desire to clothe ourselves with the fullness of the old Calvinism, let us follow Calvin's example as we fall to our knees in constant surrender to God, living each day before the face of God, enjoying and glorifying God forever. This was Calvin's chief desire for himself, for his congregation, and for us. In his Institutes of the Christian Religion he wrote, "As the surest source of destruction to men is to obey themselves, so the only haven of safety is to have no other will, no other wisdom, than to follow the Lord wherever he leads."

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Burk Parsons is editor of Tabletalk magazine and minister of congregational life at Saint Andrew's Chapel in Sanford, Florida, and is editor of the book John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, & Doxology.

Coram Deo by Burk Parsons introduces the theme of each month's issue of Tabletalk and explains why everything we study should contribute to the living of a holy life before the face of God.

This entire special issue is now available online so you can enjoy all of the feature articles and the daily devotionals. Here are links to a few select columns and articles from this month as well:

Coram Deo (Living Before the Face of God):
"Good Old Calvinism" by Burk Parsons

Right Now Counts Forever:
"The Theologian" by R.C. Sproul

Pastor's Perspective:
"The Pastor Scholar" by Philip Ryken

Pro Ecclesia (For the Church):
"Corinthian Enthusiasm" by Derek Thomas

Generation to Generation
"Outlived or Lived Out?" by Gordon Reed

Tolle Lege (Take Up and Read):
"The Glory of God" by Keith A. Mathison

Seek Ye First:
"Where Is the Glory Found?" by R.C. Sproul Jr.

Truth and Consequences:
"Calvin & Culture, Reconsidered" by Gene Edward Veith

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If you have not subscribed yet, you should. It's only $23 for a year, and $20 to renew. You save even more if you get a 2- or 3-year subscription (as little as $1.36 per issue). Special discounts for churches or businesses are available for those who want multiple copies of each issue. Start receiving Tabletalk by calling one of Ligonier Ministries' resource consultants at 800-435-4343 (8am-8pm ET, Mon-Fri) or subscribe online.

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For more recommendations, see our Recommended Reading List.

Might there be a time when readers of the Bible will not understand -- without a host of reference books -- what a sower is? For most of the world's history, the majority of people made their living from the land. Today the number of family farms is dwindling. Farms have turned into factories. Tractors pulling seeders and tilling machines have replaced the figure of the sower who throws out seed from a bag. But whatever their agricultural techniques, we cannot do without farmers. Perhaps more clearly than any other profession, farmers exemplify the Reformation doctrine of vocation.

Every time we thank God for the food we are about to eat, we are confessing the doctrine of vocation. God gives us each day our daily bread. He does so through the vocation of the farmer who grew the grain as well as all of the other vocations who turned the grain into flour, then into bread, and eventually bring it to our table.

According to Luther, vocation is all about how God providentially works through human beings: bringing children into existence through the vocations of fathers and mothers; protecting us through the vocations of government, including judges, magistrates, and soldiers; proclaiming Christ through the vocations of pastors and others in the church who, like the sower, disseminate His Word. God grants healing through the work of physicians and nurses; He creates beauty through artists; He gives the blessings of technology through scientists and engineers.

Though God sometimes works without means, He generally chooses to give His gifts through the agency of ordinary people. He often does so through non-believers who, however, do not discern God's presence and so work out of sinful motives rather than as the fruit of faith. Christians, however, see their lives -- with all of their different roles and tasks -- in terms of God's personal callings.

While their relationship to God is based solely on His grace and on their justification through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, they know that God has called them into the world to live out their faith in love and service to their neighbors. Such service takes place in vocation, specifically in the multiple vocations that the Christian is called to in the family (marriage, parenthood, and childhood), the workplace (master and servant), the church (pastors, elders, and members), and the state (rulers and citizens).

A farmer sows the seed but is dependent on God working through the natural order for the plant to grow, to produce the grain, and to bring the harvest. The same holds true for other vocations -- parents raising their children, pastors preaching the gospel -- that we perform the duties of our calling, trusting God for the increase.

According to classical philosophers and theologians, human beings must make their living through some combination of art and nature. "Art" refers to human creativity, craft, knowledge, and skill, all of which are God given. "Nature" refers to objective, God-created reality. Again, farmers provide the model. Nature makes the crops grow, but there can be no crops unless someone applies to nature "the art of farming." Some professions -- such as that of the governor, the lawyer, the teacher -- consist mainly of art but still must work with the nature of the state or of human nature.

In Dante's Inferno, the Seventh Circle is inhabited by those who sinned against art and against nature. This meant, specifically, usurers and sodomites. Today, the similarity between those two staples of modern culture -- lending money at interest and homosexuality -- may not be evident, much less why they should be punished together on a barren plain with fire raining down. Dante saw homosexuality as a sin against nature, since it violates the natural purpose of sexuality, which is to engender children. He saw usury as a sin against art, since it makes money from money, rather than from applying art to nature. As Charles Williams explains it, homosexuality makes barren what God intends to be fertile, while usury makes fertile what God intends to be barren.

Actually, though, in our modern economy, lending money can be a fertile means of shaping nature. Lending and borrowing leads to the building of houses, the establishment of new businesses, and even the financing of farms. The parable of the sower could even apply to some investments falling on rocky ground, businesses springing up quickly but then dying because they had no root, and others falling on good soil, yielding a hundred fold.

Dante would probably point out that some of our financial dealings -- hedge funds, derivatives, short selling -- are not so productive, using money to make nothing more than more money. He would probably observe that the recent woes of our banking and financial system stem largely from Seventh Circle economic practices in which money was allowed to grow on its own, apart from the value of tangible goods. He might apply another parable, showing what happens to a house built without a solid foundation.

Still, today farmers cannot farm without bankers, not to mention the people who work in tractor factories, oil refineries, scientific labs, and grocery stores. All vocations are necessary and interdependent.

We are not all called to be farmers. But whatever our vocations, we can all be sowers who go out to sow.

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Dr. Gene Edward Veith is academic dean of Patrick Henry College in Purcellville, Virginia, and author of God at Work: Your Christian Vocation in All of Life.

The aim of Truth and Consequences is to help readers understand the broader cultural and historical implications of every theme Tabletalk magazine chooses to cover. Noted commentator Dr. Gene Edward Veith lends his talents to this column each month.