Antinomianism and Dispensationalism

By Robert A. Pyne

[Robert A. Pyne is Assistant Professor of Systematic Theology, Dallas Theological Seminary, Dallas, Texas.]

Throughout its history the church has viewed moral obedience as a serious matter. One may argue that believers have not consistently practiced what they have preached, but even that charge demonstrates the expectation that those who believe in Christ should do what He commands.

Some Christians, however, have charged other Christians with antinomianism, that is, endorsing lawless behavior. That these alleged antinomians are thought to have fallen into serious error is evident in the way theologians use the term. For example Forde writes,

Antinomianism is a prevailing modern heresy. That everyone should have the right to “do their own thing” seems virtually to be the dogma of the age. If laws and norms get in the way, they can be discredited as relics of an outmoded “lifestyle” and changed to fit what we call contemporary-lived experience. Antinomianism is the spiritual air we breathe.[1]

Similarly Cowan describes antinomianism as granting “license to sin,”[2] and Bockmuehl defines it as “theoretical, conscious, intentional lawlessness,…enmity to the idea of law as such.”[3]

No one would deny that some persons have had that attitude toward moral standards, but it seems the charge has been unfairly leveled at many theologians who have never advocated that sort of lawlessness. This article reviews several cases in which individuals or groups seem to have been inappropriately considered antinomian, with a particular focus on the way in which the charge has been applied to dispensationalists.

Early References

The term “antinomianism” was apparently first coined by Martin Luther in response to disputes (ca. 1537–1540) with Johann Agricola, a former student. A number of groups in church history have argued for licentiousness on the basis of grace,[4] but that was not Agricola’s position. He was against the preaching of the law as a means of making unbelievers aware of their sin, maintaining that the preaching of the gospel of God’s grace was sufficient to lead one to repentance. Though this seems to have been Luther’s own emphasis at one time, he believed that Agricola was not responding adequately to the increasing immorality of a society that was releasing itself from the shackles of papal authority.[5] Luther argued that in addition to denying the use of the law in evangelism, Agricola was also disregarding it in his ethical teaching for believers. This, however, does not seem to have been an accurate charge. Agricola did not preach license; instead he maintained that through the gospel God would make the believer desire to live a godly life.[6] From Agricola’s perspective, Luther had simply misunderstood his position.[7]

In the 17th century a number of English preachers were considered antinomian. Among these were John Traske, Tobias Crisp, and John Eaton. Following Luther’s understanding of imputed righteousness, “again and again Eaton emphasized that justification made sinners righteous ‘objectively and passively,’ not ‘inherently and actively.’“[8] This meant that the Christian recognizes himself to be, in the words of Luther, “both righteous and a sinner.” The imputed righteousness of Christ was seen as the basis for one’s assurance, for the flesh continues to burden believers with their sinfulness in spite of the fact that believers are righteous in the eyes of God.[9]

In response to those who taught that assurance of justification could be found only in one’s sanctification, Eaton argued that finding assurance in works of righteousness could too easily cause one to depend on those works. “Consequently, Eaton felt, Christians must find assurance in their justification, in the promise and in their faith; then they could do good works ‘in thankfulness for their assurance.’“[10]

Eaton and his peers also emphasized that sanctification consists of the Spirit’s work in the believer, suggesting that “the justified are not really altered in their own human nature at all.”[11] Eaton taught that believers had “two souls,” “a ‘material’ one, in which he lives only to the world, and ‘his soul as he is in Christ,’ which substantially is Christ’s own righteousness and which causes him to live a godly life.”[12] Crisp held a similar view, stating that believers “themselves can do nothing but commit sin. If a…believer…does anything that is good, it is the Spirit of God that does it, not he, therefore he himself does nothing but sin, his soul is a mint of sin.”[13]

The view that the regenerate self cannot sin while the old self can only sin suggested to some observers that these men were unconcerned about personal holiness.[14] Though Eaton and Crisp were not preaching moral license, critics believed their model of sanctification would logically lead to that, and so they spoke of them as antinomians or libertines. This pattern repeated itself elsewhere, most notably in the Antinomian Controversy, which occurred in the Massachusetts Bay Colony between 1636 and 1638.

The Antinomian Controversy

John Cotton’s view of sanctification was similar to that of Eaton and Crisp, and critics responded to it in much the same way. A Puritan minister who emigrated to New England in 1633, Cotton maintained that the “covenant of grace” superseded the “covenant of works” and that regeneration under the covenant of grace could not rely in any sense on human activity. This led him to the controversial view that assurance of genuine conversion does not depend on one’s outward behavior.

By contrast, the colony’s other ministers believed that regeneration took place as God worked through one’s own capacities, infusing grace that enabled the believer to live morally.[15] From their perspective, a moral lifestyle was evidence of this ministry and could provide some measure of assurance of personal election.[16] Hall writes,

Though the Puritans recognized that a hypocrite could simulate the life of righteousness, they reasoned that only the person whose heart had been transformed could sustain his obedience to the will of God. Outward behavior could therefore be taken as a sign—albeit a confusing one—of justification.[17]

Though Governor John Winthrop later listed 82 errors on the part of the antinomians (compiled by church synod in 1637),[18] his earliest reference to the disagreement focused on two major issues. The first related to one’s model of sanctification, the second to one’s means of assurance. Anne Hutchinson, he wrote, “brought over with her two dangerous errors: 1. That the person of the Holy Ghost dwells in a justified person. 2. That no sanctification can help to evidence to us our justification.”[19]

The centrality of Winthrop’s second point seems plain, but it relates closely to the first, which may be more obscure. The colony’s elders agreed with John Norton that “the Spirit is in the believer energetically, or operatively, by its effects.”[20] This made the Spirit the efficient cause of sanctification, but the formal cause was the grace (or habit) of faith infused to the believer. From Cotton’s perspective, the idea of such habits detracted from the Spirit’s own work in sanctification. Sounding more like Eaton or Crisp, he wrote, “the Holy Spirit doth not work in us gifts and habits of Sanctification to act and work by their own strength, nor doth he with them give faith in Christ to go forth of itself to him for renewed strength to set these habits awork.”[21] In other words the works of the believer, however aided by inherent graces, are forever inadequate. The Spirit works directly to bring about changed behavior; He does not change a person to the extent that he or she is able to produce holy behavior independently. Though Cotton continued to maintain the idea of infused graces, from his perspective they are not to be separated from the continuing indwelling of the Spirit.[22]

That is why changes in an individual’s behavior were not thought by Cotton to be positive assurance of regeneration. “For Cotton the righteousness of sanctification is not properly men’s but Christ’s,”[23] because one’s natural capacities and gifts were stirred up by His presence, resulting in good works. An observer would not necessarily be able to tell the difference between the “moral” behavior of a hypocrite and the truly moral behavior of a believer, for the difference lies not so much in the action itself as in its source. For this reason, “Cotton was willing only to say that the habits of grace are evidence to a person, already convinced of his justification, that God is working in him, in the process of sanctifying him.”[24]

Stoever summarizes the dispute quite clearly.

Taken largely, the issue in Massachusetts Bay may be posed as follows. Does God, in regenerating individuals, employ instruments that belong to the created order—church ordinances, for example, and the words of scripture—and does he respect and work through the inherent capacities of human beings, empowering human faculties to perform holy actions? If so, there are objective criteria, given in scripture, by which the regenerate may recognize, by the power of their own enlightened consciences, the presence of sanctifying grace in themselves, and so may conclude that they are truly justified. Or does God act directly upon human beings, overruling their natural capacities and transforming them apart from or in spite of any activity of their own? If this is the case, then God himself, through his Spirit, must somehow “act” the regenerate in holy works, and saints-presumptive must wait until the Holy Spirit grants them “direct sight” of their justification.[25]

The concern for objective and experiential assurance of election was of enormous relevance in the Puritan community, being necessary for both personal comfort and leadership in church and state.[26] “A person might diligently attend church, feel deeply penitent and yearn for Christ, and yet not feel certain he was justified. From the pulpit he was implored to make sure of his estate in grace—and warned, for his soul’s safety, against resting in a false or mistaken assurance.”[27] Winthrop told the story of a woman who was so confused about the issue that she finally drowned her infant in order to gain some form of assurance, even if it was assurance of damnation.[28]

Cotton understood assurance of justification to come primarily through the spiritual perception of union with Christ. He wrote

that it is neither the word of God nor any work of grace wrought by the soul that can give clear evidence unto faith, either of our Justification or Sanctification unless the Spirit of God do give him a clear sight of his Justification in a free promise of grace in Christ, and a clear sight of his Sanctification in any promise whether absolute or conditional; so that the Condition be lookt at as fulfilled in Christ and the promise fulfilled for his sake.[29]

The elders saw this as dangerously emotional and subjective. For them, sanctification seemed to be a much more objective test of justification. From Cotton’s perspective, however, it was the sanctification test that seemed overly subjective.

Given the nature of human finitude and sin, how could one examine one’s behaviour and come to a certain assurance that he or she were in a gracious estate? Cotton, thus, sought to found the assurance of election upon a more “certain” ground, upon the unconditional promise of God, and upon Christ’s unconditioned union with the person…. And here Cotton makes his appeal to the intuition, the direct awareness of the Spirit of God, which he felt was a certain and “objective” test for the soul’s security. The acid test of assurance, then, for Cotton, was the individual’s perception of a personal, spiritual experience of salvation which would bring with it an inner awareness of God’s gracious election.[30]

One of the difficulties with this view, some felt, was that one’s justification was not open to the scrutiny of others. Arguing that this implication presented a threat to the elders who ruled the colony, Bendroth writes,

In this way, the Antinomian operated as a law unto him or herself, justified by an individual experience of God’s saving grace, led in the process of salvation by the internal promptings of the Holy Spirit. Thus his words, perceptions, and opinions were totally self-authoritative, for he was himself the voice of God made audible to men.[31]

The doctrines taught by Cotton and in a more exaggerated form by Hutchinson were quite different from those of Agricola, but fairly similar to those of Eaton and Crisp. Agricola’s concern was that the law not be used to bring people to faith in Christ, but Cotton used it as a preparation for salvation in his sermons. Eaton and Crisp attempted to ground assurance of justification in something other than a consideration of one’s works, and Cotton had a similar aim. None of these individuals directly encouraged licentiousness; yet many observers argued that their theology inevitably condoned it, and rumors of lawless behavior abounded.[32] Thomas Weld, the London agent for the Massachusetts Bay Colony, argued that Cotton and his followers had opened “such a faire and easie way to Heaven, that men may pass without difficulty.” He continued,

For, if a man need not be troubled by the law, before faith, but may step to Christ so easily; and then, if his faith be no going out of himself to take Christ, but only a discerning that Christ is his already, and is only an act of the Spirit upon him, no act of his own done by him; and if he, for his part, must see nothing in himself, have nothing, do nothing, only he is to stand still and wait for Christ to do all for him. And then if after faith, the law no rule to walk by, no sorrow or repentance for sin; he must not be pressed to duties, and need never pray, unless moved by the Spirit; and if he falls into sin, he is never the more disliked of God, nor his condition never the worse. And for his assurance, it being given him by the Spirit, he must never let it go, but abide in the height of comfort, though he falls into the grossest sins that he can. Then is their way to life made easy, if so, no marvel so many like of it.[33]

This quotation demonstrates the emotion with which many responded to these “antinomian” teachings. Cotton and his followers did not advocate lawless behavior, but the charge of antinomianism unfortunately implied that they did. A similar situation exists today with regard to dispensationalism.

The Charge against Dispensationalists

A common criticism of dispensationalism is that the system is antinomian.[34] This charge relates primarily to a model of sanctification and an approach to assurance which, though popularized by some dispensational leaders, is neither unique to nor inherent in dispensationalism.[35] Since Lewis Chafer and others have reached conclusions that bear some resemblance to Cotton’s, critics maintain that these dispensationalists have revisited his error.

In evaluating that charge, two questions must be addressed. First, have dispensationalists paralleled Cotton’s understanding of sanctification and assurance? Second, is that approach inherently antinomian?

The Direct Working of the Spirit

As described above, Cotton saw sanctification as the direct activity of the Spirit on and through one’s abilities. Gerstner summarizes this distinction by saying, “For the Reformed theologian, good works, while the result of divine grace, are genuinely human actions. For the antinomian, good works are divine actions, the direct action of God within the human person.”[36]

In spite of the fact that Gerstner distinguishes too sharply between the so-called antinomians and what he refers to as the Reformed view, he appropriately recognizes that the teaching of the believer’s “two natures” on the part of many dispensationalists is similar to the theology of Eaton, Crisp, and Cotton. If the old nature remains utterly sinful and all good works come from the freshly implanted new (or “divine”) nature, Gerstner writes, “in a profound sense, the person is not changed at all. He is not regenerated, he is counter-balanced.”[37] The idea of a sinless new nature as the source of the believer’s new behavior seems to suggest that the individual does not grow in grace, but is able to be holy or sinful depending on which nature he or she chooses to follow. If the person consists neither of the new nature nor of the old nature, but possesses both, then holy living can be attributed to “not me, but Christ in me.”[38] A clear statement to this effect comes from Chafer.

True Christian character is produced in the believer, but not by the believer. Doubtless the Spirit employs every faculty of the believer’s being to realize this priceless quality of life; yet there is nothing in the believer, of himself, which could produce this result. There is not even a spark of these graces within the human nature which might be fanned into a fire. All must be produced in the heart and life by the Spirit. Thus the new problem is naturally that of maintaining such a relationship to the Spirit as shall make it possible for Him to accomplish continually what He came into the heart to do.[39]

This is similar to Cotton’s view, though Chafer’s last line demonstrates a difference in one important respect. Cotton’s view of God’s work in sanctification was directly related to his understanding of election and justification. The work of God does not depend on human agency in any sense, so the believer could only wait on divine initiative. In keeping with a revivalist heritage, Chafer and other dispensationalists who articulate the “two-nature” view emphasize human responsibility in determining whether God will be given the freedom to work in one’s life. While the former view may be described as relatively passive, Chafer’s model may not. This difference is particularly clear in Chafer’s reply to Benjamin B. Warfield, in which Chafer argues that God’s sovereign plan is exercised through the human conditions of believing and yielding in salvation and sanctification respectively.[40]

This difference aside, Gerstner asks a question of Chafer that might just as well have been asked of John Cotton: “What is it that ‘grows’?”[41] It is not the old nature, which does not change, nor is it the new nature, which is completely holy.[42] Gerstner concludes that the entity choosing between the old and new natures must be an unidentified “third nature.” The fact that Chafer does not use the term “nature” philosophically with reference to the essence of an individual enables him to distinguish between the two natures and the individual who “possesses” them,[43] but Gerstner’s criticism demonstrates that the “two-nature” language is confusing.[44] Further, Chafer may be vulnerable to the criticism that the believer himself does not truly change in the process of sanctification.

Ryrie seems to recognize the danger of the “two-nature” language, for he prefers to speak of the natures as “capacities.”[45] At the same time he is sensitive to the charge that works might wrongly be thought of as performed by a part of the believer rather than the believer himself.

Although man is a many-faceted being, and even though these facets of man participate in the conflict between the old and new natures when a person becomes a believer, still man is a unity and acts as one. What I do, I do, not a part of myself. It is a mistake to speak of “my old nature doing thus and so” or to say that “this stemmed from the soul and not the spirit.” True, certain aspects of my being may originate an action, but that action is performed by me, not part of me…. Whatever is done, whether for good or for evil, I do, for there is no other way for the old nature, the soul, the spirit, or any other aspect of my being to express itself than through me.[46]

From this perspective, what actually changes in the process of sanctification? “The positive transformation is done by the Holy Spirit (2 Cor 3:18) but the center of it is the mind.”[47] This is not surprising in that it is the mind that determines which of the two natures finds expression in the thoughts and actions of the believer.[48]

Returning to Winthrop’s initial two-point summary of the controversy, Chafer seems to agree with Hutchinson and Cotton on the first issue—the direct working of the Holy Spirit in sanctification as opposed to the transforming power of inherent graces. Also Chafer’s two-nature doctrine seems close to Eaton’s teaching. Ryrie, however, clearly distances himself from that presentation by focusing more on the unity of the believer. Winthrop’s second issue concerned the role of sanctification in assurance.

The Relationship between Sanctification and Assurance

Chafer argued that assurance of one’s salvation was based on “two grounds of confidence—that of experience and that based on the Word of Truth.”[49] The former consists primarily of the inward witness of the Holy Spirit in the experiential confidence and conviction of one’s conscience. This may be seen further in a knowledge of God and a new passion for prayer, Bible study, evangelism, and fellowship. Though he argued that “a true salvation is proved by its fruits,”[50] these experiential criteria are qualified by the fact that “it is possible to be saved and at the same time to be living a carnal life.”

The evidence cited above, then, since it is drawn from Christian experience, applies only to those who are adjusted to the mind and will of God. The conclusion to be reached in this aspect of the present theme is not that carnal believers are unsaved, but rather that Christian experience, depending as it does upon that which is wrought in the heart by the Holy Spirit, will not be normal when the Spirit’s work in the heart is hindered by carnality. Thus for a very great proportion of believers the evidence of assurance based on Christian experience is without validity because of carnality.[51]

This qualification renders any experiential means of assurance secondary to the promise of Scripture. Citing promises such as those stated in 1 John 5:12–13, Chafer writes, “It becomes, then, a matter of self-knowledge whether one has had a recognized transaction with the Son of God regarding one’s salvation.”[52]

Chafer’s understanding of assurance is similar to that of Cotton and the others discussed above in that the experiential evidence of sanctification is secondary. However, Chafer’s more revivalistic model differs from their understanding in that their primary evidence—the personal experience of the Spirit’s witness—is not as critical to Chafer as one’s own decision of faith. This would likely have seemed inappropriately anthropocentric to Cotton and his peers, whose system was driven by a stronger sense of divine sovereignty.

An additional difference is that Chafer’s understanding of assurance does not, like Cotton’s, appear to be rooted in the idea that only the Spirit produces genuinely good works. Cotton wanted to distinguish between the works of hypocrites and the works of true believers, but Chafer’s concern is to urge “carnal” Christians to live as they should. In other words Cotton’s view is based on the necessity of what others might call a “new nature,” while Chafer’s view is based on the continuing existence of the “old nature.” In spite of these differences, Chafer’s views on this issue seem fairly close to those of Cotton, Eaton, and Crisp.

Are these ideas inherently antinomian? Is the scheme as problematic as some critics have suggested?

A Brief Evaluation

In considering the essential issues of this controversy, it seems fitting to return to the two points identified by Winthrop. First, does change rely on the immediate presence of the Holy Spirit or on inherent graces implanted by Him? Second, to what extent does sanctification serve as the basis for one’s assurance?

In considering the process of change in the believer, one must underscore the believer’s status as a dependent creature under God. God did not design believers to function independently of Him. Paul’s most vivid image of the spiritual life—the struggle between the flesh and the Spirit—asserts that sanctification is to take place through dependent obedience.[53] For this reason, one must appreciate Cotton’s argument that the proper exercise of infused graces always relies on the indwelling Holy Spirit. It would be inappropriate to expect that the believer could function independently of Him in holiness, for such independence is the essence of fleshly behavior.

Is it improper, then, to speak of the works of a believer? Should one always refer instead to the Spirit’s works in and through the believer, as Chafer does in the statement quoted earlier? It would seem that the New Testament demonstrates some balance here. Paul recognized that the power in his ministry was from God, not from himself (2 Cor 4:7), and he saw suffering as the means by which “the life of Jesus” was progressively manifested in his body through personal transformation (4:10, 11, 16), leading ultimately to physical resurrection (5:1). He spoke of his labor in ministry as “striving according to His power, which mightily works within me” (Col 1:29). This sounds much like Peter’s admonition to serve “by the strength which God supplies” (1 Pet 4:11) and Paul’s own statement that believers characteristically are those who “by the Spirit…are putting to death the deeds of the body” (Rom 8:13). One cannot speak of the good works of the believer without recognizing that those works were performed through the strength of the Spirit as the agent of transformation (2 Cor 3:18). At the same time, New Testament commandments demonstrate that believers are not simply passive in this process. They are under obligation to obey God (Rom 6:13, 18; 8:12–14; 1 Cor 15:34; Gal 5:25), and when they do, they are “working,” but they are doing so by the Spirit. His indwelling presence is therefore openly manifested to the extent that they function in dependent obedience to Him; the “fruit of the Spirit” (Gal 5:22–23) and the “leading” of the Spirit (Rom 8:14) become increasingly evident in one’s transformed lifestyle. Believers are changed, but they are changed by virtue of His presence.

With regard to this first issue in the antinomian debate, then, corrections may be suggested for both sides. A heavy emphasis on infused graces does not seem to capture the ongoing reality of dependence on the Spirit, but discussions framing it as a battle between “two natures” often fail to describe adequately the Spirit-led transformation of the whole person.

What are the implications of this argument in relation to Winthrop’s second point of contention? What is the role of sanctification in assurance? By internalizing the evidence of justification, Cotton and his followers made it difficult for the elders of the Massachusetts Bay Colony to identify believers who would be qualified to function as leaders in both church and state. However, that kind of internalization seems necessary in light of the inherent ambiguity of progressive sanctification. Perhaps one lesson to be learned from the antinomian controversy is that it will always be difficult to test the salvation experience of others. At the same time the recognition of one’s own changing life certainly enhances the assurance gained through faith in Christ for salvation, with the basis of that assurance being God’s Word.

This discussion suggests a final question, one that leads back to the popular sense of antinomianism. Does the assurance of one’s salvation lead to lawlessness?[54] May it never be! On the contrary, it should lead to faithfulness, a confident hope, and obedience from a grateful heart. Carson states the biblical balance well.

In short, the biblical writers offer believers all the assurance they could ever want, grounding such assurance in the character of God, the nature of the new covenant, the finality of election, the love of God, and much more beside. But they never allow such assurance to become a sop for spiritual indifference; indeed, the same vision is what drives them to insist that the God who has called them to his new covenant works powerfully in them to conform them to the likeness of his Son, to the fruitfulness the Spirit empowers us to produce. This becomes both an incentive to press on to the mark of the upward call in Christ Jesus, and an implicit challenge to those who cry “Lord, Lord” but do not do what he commands.[55]

Some (not all) dispensationalists have taught an approach to sanctification that is similar to that of so-called antinomians in the 17th century. In spite of these similarities, antinomianism is an inappropriate label for systems that neither imply nor condone lawlessness. The 17th-century Antinomian Controversy was largely resolved through dialogue between John Cotton and other leaders in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. It is hoped that this article will contribute to a similar measure of understanding between contemporary dispensationalists and their critics.

Notes

1. Gerhard O. Forde, “Fake Theology: Reflections on Antinomianism Past and Present,” Dialog 22 (1983): 246.
2. Steven B. Cowan, “Common Misconceptions of Evangelicals regarding Calvinism,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 33 (1990): 192.
3. Klaus Bockmuehl, “Keeping His Commandments,” Evangelical Review of Theology 6 (1982): 85.
4. R. D. Linder “Antinomianism,” in Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, ed. Walter Elwell (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1984), 58.
5. J. Wayne Baker, “Sola Fide, Sola Gratia: The Battle for Luther in Seventeenth-Century England,” Sixteenth Century Journal 16 (1985): 117.
6. Ibid., 118.
7. R. D. Linder, “Agricola, Johann,” in Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, 26.
8. Baker, “Sola Fide, Sola Gratia,” 122.
9. William K. B. Stoever, “A Faire and Easie Way to Heaven”: Covenant Theology and Antinomianism in Early Massachusetts (Middletown, CT: Wesley University Press, 1978), 140.
10. Ibid., 125.
11. Ibid.
12. Ibid., 141.
13. Ibid., 145.
14. Ibid., 158.
15. Michael Jinkins, “John Cotton and the Antinomian Controversy, 1636–1638: A Profile of Experiential Individualism in American Puritanism,” Scottish Journal of Theology 43 (1990): 333.
16. Ibid., 334.
17. David D. Hall, The Antinomian Controversy, 1636–1638: A Documentary History, 2d ed. (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1990), 13.
18. John Winthrop, A Short Story of the Rise, Reign, and Ruine of the Antinomians, Familists & Libertines, cited in ibid., 219–43.
19. John Winthrop, Winthrop’s Journal: “History of New England: 1630–1649” (New York: Barnes & Noble, 1959), 1:195.
20. Jinkins, “John Cotton and the Antinomian Controversy, 1636–1638,” 342.
21. John Cotton, Rejoynder, cited in Hall, The Antinomian Controversy, 1636–1638: A Documentary History, 103.
22. Jinkins, “John Cotton and the Antinomian Controversy, 1636–1638,” 343.
23. William K. B. Stoever, “Nature, Grace and John Cotton: The Theological Dimension in the New England Antinomian Controversy,” Church History 44 (1975): 28.
24. Jinkins, “John Cotton and the Antinomian Controversy, 1636–1638,” 342 (italics his).
25. Stoever, “A Faire and Easie Way to Heaven,” 10.
26. Samuel T. Logan Jr., “The Doctrine of Justification in the Theology of Jonathan Edwards,” Westminster Theological Journal 46 (1984): 28; and Hall, The Antinomian Controversy, 1636–1638: A Documentary History, 12-13.
27. Stoever, “Nature, Grace, and John Cotton,” 27.
28. Hall, The Antinomian Controversy, 1636–1638: A Documentary History, 15.
29. Cotton, Rejoynder, in ibid., 138–39.
30. Jinkins, “John Cotton and the Antinomian Controversy, 1636–1638,” 347–48.
31. Margaret Lamberts Bendroth, “Feminism, Anne Hutchinson, and the Antinomian Controversy, 1634–1638,” Trinity Journal n.s. 2 (1981): 41.
32. For examples see Winthrop, A Short Story, in Hall, The Antinomian Controversy, 1636–1638: A Documentary History, 216-17.
33. In Stoever, “A Faire and Easie Way to Heaven,” 11-12.
34. “I have shown at length that dispensationalism is antinomian…. To depart from [antinomianism] is to depart from dispensationalism” (John H. Gerstner, Wrongly Dividing the Word of Truth [Brentwood, TN: Wolgemuth & Hyatt, 1991], 231).
35. Gerstner does demonstrate that many, perhaps even most, traditional dispensationalists shared a particular model of sanctification, but one of his consistent errors is portraying the movement as monolithic. At the same time some dispensationalists have been guilty of the same error.
36. Gerstner, Wrongly Dividing the Word of Truth, 211. This needs to be qualified by the fact that Cotton never denied the presence of inherent graces (nor apparently did Hutchinson, whose statements were less clear). His emphasis was on the idea that the believer was never so transformed as to be able to produce good works independently of the Holy Spirit.
37. Ibid., 213 (italics added).
38. Those who emphasize the concept of depravity will be more comfortable with this statement than its eradicationist counterpart, in which sin is attributed to “not me, but sin in me.” Both ideas have some biblical support (Gal 2:20; Rom 7:17), but do not present a complete explanation.
39. Lewis Sperry Chafer, He That Is Spiritual (1918; reprint, Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1967), 46 (italics his).
40. Ibid., 67, n. 1.
41. Gerstner, Wrongly Dividing the Word of Truth, 244.
42. Cf. J. Dwight Pentecost, Designed to Be Like Him (Chicago: Moody, 1972), 40, 42, 59, 63, 78.
43. Chafer, He That Is Spiritual, 112-15. Chafer defines “nature” as a thing created by God and limits its meaning with regard to the “old nature” by saying it is a perversion of what was created by God. He does not describe it as the basic, inherent essence of a thing (Systematic Theology, 8 vols. [Dallas, TX: Dallas Seminary Press, 1948], 2:288).
44. At worst, it is heretical, treating each individual believer in the pattern of the hypostatic union, even to the point of deification if the “new nature” is truly a “divine nature” as in the case of Christ. On the other hand John F. Walvoord suggests that the model of the hypostatic union can be followed by using the word “nature” in a “lesser sense” than when referring to Christ (“The Augustinian-Dispensational Perspective,” in Five Views on Sanctification, 204, 207).
45. Charles C. Ryrie, Balancing the Christian Life (Chicago: Moody, 1969), 34.
46. Ibid., 32-33 (italics his).
47. Ibid., 80.
48. Ibid., 47.
49. Chafer, Systematic Theology, 7:21.
50. Ibid., 3:297.
51. Ibid., 7:23.
52. Ibid., 7: 24.
53. Cf. Robert A. Pyne, “Dependence and Duty: The Spiritual Life in Galatians 5 and Romans 6, ” in Integrity of Heart, Skillfulness of Hands, ed. Charles H. Dyer and Roy B. Zuck (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1994), 144–56.
54. Charles Finney would have apparently answered this question in the affirmative. He wrote, “Those who hold that justification by imputed righteousness is a forensic proceeding, take a view of final or ultimate justification, according with their view of the nature of the transaction. With them, faith receives an imputed righteousness, and a judicial justification. The first act of faith, according to them, introduces the sinner into this relation, and obtains for him a perpetual justification. They maintain that after this first act of faith it is impossible for the sinner to come into condemnation; that, being once justified, he is always thereafter justified, whatever he may do…. Now this is certainly another gospel from the one I am inculcating…. I object to this view of justification…that it is antinomianism” (Finney’s Systematic Theology [reprint, Minneapolis: Bethany Fellowship, 1976], 328–29 [italics his]).
55. D. A. Carson, “Reflections on Christian Assurance,” Westminster Theological Journal 54 (1992): 29.