At the very least, my contract with my denomination is strictly in terms of Puritan theology and doctrine. The Westminster Confession of Faith is nothing if not a Puritan document, and my being licensed and ordained to the ministry requires my willing consent to that particular relic of Puritanism. I was happy to subscribe to it 19 years ago, and would gladly do it again. I know of no greater statement of doctrine in the whole of the world.
But we are ever learning; and sometimes it is important that we are reminded that the Puritans themselves were not all of a piece. The minutes of the Westminster Assembly, for example, which produced the Confession and Catechisms, show the level of debate which these doctrines engendered. The doctrines did not produce themselves, and they were frequently hammered out in doctrinal dialogue and discussion.
It is one of the great mysteries and accidents of history that John Owen, by any standard one of the greatest of the Puritans, was not a commissioner to the Westminster Assembly.
Owen's Scottish connections are also interesting: he visited Scotland with Cromwell's expedition in 1650, and after his death some of his works were translated into Gaelic. Though he may not have had contact with the Scottish Commissioners at Westminster, the legacy of the doyen of Congregationalist pastors and Puritan preachers has been appreciated much by Scottish Presbyterians.
Carl Trueman has recently also shed new light on John Owen, in a book with the arresting title 'John Owen: Reformed Catholic, Renaissance Man'. This new volume has been published by Ashgate Publishing in their 'Great Theologians' Series.
It is a comparatively short volume of four chapters, the first, with the same title as the book, giving an introduction to Owen's life and work, the second examining Owen's doctrine of the knowledge of God, the third on Owen's doctrine of the covenants, and the fourth on Owen's doctrine of justification.
Yet the chapters are tightly packed with information and argumentation, which makes this book a taxing read. Like John Murray, one of his predecessors at Westminster Seminary, Carl Trueman writes without wasting a word; and like John Owen himself, he doesn't believe in short sentences. The combination is a fascinating study in historical theology, and a short book of profound analysis and insight.
The opening sentence of the book may surprise those of us who have been brought up to appreciate Puritanism in its theological and ecclesiastical forms: 'The name of John Owen (1616-1683) is little known today even in theological circles outside of very conservative evangelical churches and the narrow and highly specialised field of early modern intellectual history'.
What? Have today's Christians not realised the wealth of Gospel exposition and practical application in the Puritan literature? Have they stopped reading anything beyond Philip Yancey and Joyce Meyer? Don't they appreciate the wealth of material available now to serve as an introduction to the Puritans? Have they heard of Jim Packer and Sinclair Ferguson? Have they never typed 'JOHN OWEN' into Google?
The reality is, as Packer reminded me a long time ago, that we actually need the Puritans; in spite of all our sophistication and technique, Packer argues, what we lack is maturity: 'the Puritans exemplified maturity', he writes; 'we don't. We are spiritual dwarfs'.
All the more reason, then, why an introduction like that of Carl Trueman's is welcome, setting John Owen's work in context, summarising it in its main features and outline, and demonstrating its relevance.
And some of the conclusions of this particular Trueman show will surprise us.
Carl suggests, for example, that to call Owen a 'Puritan' is not particularly helpful. Do we really know what Puritanism was? Is it not too narrow and parochial a category for describing men whose breadth of knowledge and interest were quite staggering? Carl wants us to call Owen simply an orthodox Reformed theologian, the roots of whose theology are firmly in the work of the continental Reformers.
But there are other issues which Carl helpfully highlights. There is, for example, Owen's debt to the tradition. Any reader of his works will come across copious references to 'Austin', shorthand for Augustine.
To quote Carl, 'Respect for the past was something which pre-modern Christianity assumed from the outset'. This, he says, gave Owen's theology 'historical integrity', as he interacted with the traditions of theology within the church.
We, on the other hand, have too little respect for the past, and too little time to deepen our understanding of the church fathers or of the broader ecclesiastical context in which theological discourse has taken place. Even our readings of the Puritans can leave us decidedly unPuritan in our methodology. Owen would never for a moment have countenanced reading only his material.
Carl also fires a warning shot across our bows as he reminds us to remember Owen's intellectual context. He is not Calvin, and is not writing in Calvin's situation. He is writing in the heartland of Renaissance Oxford, in which 'theology was not to be pursued in isolation but to be studied in the context of intellectual engagement with the wider culture of learning and scholarship'. Hence the sub-title: 'John Owen: Renaissance Man'.
It is singularly interesting that today's Oxford is making moves to banish evangelical Christianity from its august colleges. It has forgotten that biblical theology can be integrated with all the sciences, and is still their queen.
But no less interesting is the trend within today's evangelical Christianity, where the self-styled successors of Owen are the loudest in condemnation of academia. Owen would find himself out of place in both worlds.
Hopefully, however, his doctrines are alive and well. As Carl Trueman reminds us, theology is concerned with the knowledge of God, and, for Owen, scripture is 'the sole normative cognitive foundation for theology'. But what does this mean? For Owen, it meant that he began with clear doctrinal-exegetical synthesis, but building upon the patristic tradition.
Trueman's analysis of Owen on the covenants is a masterpiece of historiography, and hopefully will prevent the suicidal leap of some modern evangelicals who wish to build a Reformed theology without the idea of covenant. The two stand or fall together, and Trueman reminds us that Owen's federalism is a 'critical traditionary exercise', as he takes the best of medieval (Catholic) insights, and marries them to the best patristic exegesis to articulate God's relationship to humankind through the idea of covenant.
Finally, the discussion of Owen on justification is a much needed counterbalance to the prevailing mood in contemporary evangelicalism. We shout our hearty 'Amen' to Carl's conclusion that 'John Owen's treatment of justification is a classic example of Reformed Orthodoxy at its best'.
If you won't read Owen, at least read Trueman.
Carl R. Trueman, John Owen: Reformed Catholic, Renaissance Man, Ashgate Publishing, 2007

iaind@backfreechurch.co.uk