A Practical Scholasticism? Edward Leigh’s Theological Method

By James E. Dolezal

[James E. Dolezal is a Ph.D. student in systematic theology at Westminster Theological Seminary.]

I. Introduction

Can scholastic theology be practical? Debate over this issue has persisted for centuries and has not been an insignificant question within recent Reformation and Post-Reformation historiography. Some historians assert that the first two generations of Protestant Reformers were primarily concerned with the religion of the heart whereas the Post-Reformation theologians (beginning roughly in the 1560s) shifted the focus of divinity away from the heart and toward the intellect.[1] The Post-Reformation appropriation of scholasticism is said to be in conflict with the humanism seen in the Reformers. Hence, Brian Armstrong, a proponent of this thesis, asserts that by 1660 “the major part of international Calvinism had replaced with a quite different theological expression and spirit the humanistic orientation which characterized most of the early reform movements. The phenomenon many have called Protestant scholasticism had set in.”[2] Clearly humanism and scholasticism have been assumed to be fundamentally at odds in this perspective.

Armstrong, while acknowledging the difficulty of precisely defining Protestant scholasticism, suggests that it has four identifiable tendencies. First, it tends to assert religious truth on the basis of deductive ratiocination from assumed principles. Therefore, it relates to medieval scholasticism in that it shares the same commitment to Aristotelian philosophy. Second, it elevates reason in religious matters to at least an equal standing with faith, and so subverts the authority of revelation. Third, it embraces the notion that Scripture contains a unified and rationally understandable system of doctrine that can be formed into a statement so definitive as to be the measure of orthodoxy. Fourth, it manifests a “pronounced interest in metaphysical matters, in abstract, speculative thought, particularly with reference to the doctrine of God.”[3] Indeed, this “rationalistic” approach is thought to represent “a profound divergence from the humanistically oriented religion of John Calvin and most of the early reformers.”[4]

This carving up of the Reformed tradition that reads Calvin as a humanist fundamentally opposed to the seventeenth-century scholastic Calvinists has not gone unchallenged.[5] This article aims to nuance one dimension of the challenge by asking if the scholastic method of theology, as developed among the seventeenth-century Reformed orthodox, was inherently impractical and opposed to the religion of the heart. Inasmuch as a full answer to that question would demand extensive interaction with a host of international theologians and sources, a case study of a particular work seems to be an appropriate starting point. Thus, this study will examine the theoretico-practical construction of Edward Leigh’s theology as contained in his A Systeme or Body of Divinity (1662), with a particular focus on his treatment of God’s simplicity. Protestant scholastics, such as Leigh, have often been accused of being especially speculative and non-practical in their handling of theology proper. Before examining Leigh’s theological method and treatment of divine simplicity, a brief biographical sketch is in order.

1. Edward Leigh’s Education, Career, And Writings

Edward Leigh (1603-1671) was born into a wealthy family with all provisions made for a liberal education.[6] His upbringing was notable for its “fervent puritanism,” owing much to his stepmother and to his university tutor at Oxford, William Pemble. Leigh undertook a double apprenticeship, first at Magdalen Hall, Oxford (gaining both his BA and MA in 1620 and 1623, respectively), and then at Middle Temple where he studied law.

His public career was somewhat varied and colorful. He served as a Justice of the Peace of the county of Staffordshire intermittently from 1641 to 1645. He also joined the parliamentary army as officer of an infantry regiment in 1643. In 1645 he was elected to Parliament as an MP representing Stafford. As an MP he was especially engaged in ecclesiastical matters, serving on the committee for plundered ministers in 1646 and as a visitor for the regulation of Oxford University in 1647. In 1646 he was elected to the Westminster Assembly of divines to serve as a teller and subscribed to the Solemn League and Covenant, though he apparently preferred the primitive Episcopal form of government.[7] He was ejected from Parliament in Pride’s Purge in 1648, returning briefly to serve on the restored Rump Parliament after the fall of the protectorate. Though he endorsed the restoration of Charles II in 1660, he became increasingly disenchanted with him and spent the final decade of his life in “a way of retirement.”

Leigh’s writing career is even more varied than his public career. He was something of a polymath, publishing two tomes on philology (a definitive lexicon of Greek and Hebrew words and a philological commentary on legal terms); two books on history (on the Roman and Greek emperors and on the history of England’s kings); a book on the court system; a volume on educational curriculum; another on England’s topography; and another on foreign travel, money, and the measurement of distance. In addition to these he also published various works of divinity including Treatise of the Divine Promises (1633), The Saints Encouragement in Evil Times (1648), Annotations on Five Poetical Books of the Old Testament (1657), and A Systeme or Body of Divinity (1662). Though not an ordained minister, Leigh would certainly fit the criteria that Herman Witsius envisioned for ministers: possession of a breadth of culture and learning. Leigh was “habituated to the reverent observation of nature, learned in history and languages, [and] well versed in the arts and in the skills of communication.”[8] The latter may be assumed on account of his success both as a JP and MP.

2. Leigh’s A Systeme Or Body Of Divinity

Many seventeenth-century Protestant scholastics published works in non-scholastic genres in addition to their scholastic contributions.[9] Sutton observes that biblical exegesis was the leitmotif of most of Leigh’s publications.[10] As we turn our attention to Leigh’s great scholastic and systematic work of theology, it should be noted that he also wrote a biblical commentary, a history of Christian martyrs, and a book on divine promises. This breadth of emphasis itself defies the caricature of a relentlessly rationalistic ecclesiastic.

The Systeme was expanded through four editions. The work grew from three books (132 pages) in 1646 to ten books (1179 pages) by 1662, with the final edition comprising what may arguably have been the most complete and proper systematic theology in the English language at the time of its publication.[11] It bears a certain resemblance to other English works of divinity including William Perkins’s Golden Chaine (1592), William Ames’s Marrow of Theology (1623), and John Downame’s The Summe of Sacred Divinitie (c. 1630). But Leigh’s loci method is more explicit than that of his predecessors.[12] Also, the positive utilization of medieval scholastic sources is more conspicuous in Leigh than in his English forerunners. Does this not lend credence to the assertion that Protestant scholasticism became increasingly rationalistic and non-practical? Is not scholastic divinity fundamentally opposed to practical divinity as some recent historians have concluded? By considering Leigh’s theological method and its implementation in his doctrine of God it will be shown that Protestant scholastic theology was not inherently adverse to practical divinity.

II. Edward Leigh’s Method Of Theology

1. Leigh’s Motives For Composing His Systeme In The Scholastic Method

We have noted that Leigh’s theology was scholastic.[13] Various motivations impelled the seventeenth-century Reformed theologians to adopt this method. Muller explains:

The rise of scholastic, confessional orthodoxy in the Reformed and Lutheran churches related both to polemical and pedagogical needs and, in the specific development of large scale theological systems, to the need for a detailed working-out of theological and philosophical problems raised or posed by the Reformation. Those needs . . . all relate to the broader task of the full appropriation of the substance of the catholic tradition and the identification of an institutional Protestant church as the church catholic.[14]

The Reformers did not intend to dispense with the theological traditions of the medieval church. Indeed, their criticisms of medieval scholasticism cannot be read as refutations of the scholastic method as such, but as what they perceived to be the aimless speculation of so many medieval theologians. In one sense Protestantism needed time to articulate itself in relation to the catholic theological tradition as a whole. By the seventeenth century the general conclusion of Reformed theologians was that Protestantism stood firmly within the trajectory of the best of medieval theology.

Edward Leigh is certainly conscious of the need for Protestantism to extensively articulate its doctrinal continuities and discontinuities with the catholic tradition. He seeks to establish a Reformed catholicity as a Protestant answer to the Roman system. Consider his challenge: “Shall the Jesuitical and heretical party be so active for Popery, for errour, and shall not the Orthodox be as studious to hold fast and hold forth the Truth?”[15] There is a concern that Protestantism must oppose Rome by being equally comprehensive and scholarly in its theology. This expression, “as studious,” sets the tone for Leigh’s own method in his Systeme. He attempts to match the Papists in scholastic rigor, both in breadth and depth. Robust opposition warrants robust defense.

The system offered by Leigh may certainly be read as both a positive and negative (or polemical) piece of work. Positively, it aims to set out the Reformed faith in a full-bodied and detailed manner. In doing so Leigh demonstrates a great deal of continuity with the medieval scholastic method and doctrine. Muller calls this a “catholicizing tendency.”[16] Protestantism is not to be defined merely by what it opposes, but also by what it teaches on every head of doctrine. Negatively, Leigh’s Systeme is an attempt to displace Roman error with truth. It should be noted, however, that Leigh’s approach is not overtly polemical. Even so, the very appearance of his work is a polemic against Romanism.

Another reason that Leigh gives for writing his Systeme is to fill a gap in the English literature. He notes the paucity of English writers who had produced a complete system of doctrine: “There are Calvins Institutions, Bullingers Decads, Zanchies Works, Gerhards Common-places, Ursins Summe of Divinity, and some others that have more fully handled the Body of Divinity, but there are fewer of our English Writers (unlesse Mr. Perkins of old, and B. Usher lately) who have largely and fully written in English this way.”[17] So, Leigh conceives his treatise as offering the Church of England a full-bodied Reformed system of theology in accord with the Westminster Confession of Faith.[18] By 1662 the need for this sort of system would have been keenly felt in England inasmuch as the fear of a Roman takeover of the country was at a fever pitch.[19] English clergymen needed to have a firm grasp on their ecclesiastical credentials as Protestants in order to thwart this threat. This situation necessitated having a complete system of divinity that could match the traditional Roman theologies and establish a reasonable measure of continuity with the catholic tradition. So much for Leigh’s historical motivations; we turn now to consider the method of his theology.

2. The Purpose Of Theology

Before proceeding with the study of divinity it is crucial to grasp the object and goals involved. For Leigh the object and goal of theology are bound together. He writes, “Christians must chiefly study to know God.”[20] By identifying God as the proper object of theology Leigh locates himself squarely in the medieval and Reformed tradition. Richard Muller suggests, “Formal identification of the object or subject matter of theology by the Protestant scholastics, like their discussion of archetypal and ectypal theology, looks back to medieval models through the glass of the Reformation.”[21] Francis Turretin, writing less than two decades after Leigh, explains what is meant by “object”: “The object of any science is everything specially treated of in it, and to which all its conclusions relate.”[22] Of the study of divinity he adds, “Although theologians differ as to the object of theology, the more common and true opinion is that of those who refer it to God and divine things . . . i.e., God directly and indirectly (viz., God and the things of him . . . and subject to him . . . and tending to him . . .). Thus that all things are discussed in theology either because they deal with God himself or have a relation (schesin) to him as the first principle and ultimate end.”[23] Similarly, Leigh asserts, “God and his works are the matter or parts of Divinity.”[24] There is nothing original in this statement; indeed, this was the common commitment of the catholic tradition, both Roman and Protestant.

Among the Protestants this notion is expressed prior to Leigh in William Per-kins’s Golden Chaine: “Theologie hath two parts: the first of God, the second of his workes.”[25] For both Perkins and Leigh the study of God’s works is still a way, though indirect, of coming to know God himself. This identification of God and his works as the object(s) of theology is in keeping with medieval Catholic scholasticism. For instance, Thomas Aquinas writes, “Now all things are dealt with in holy teaching in terms of God, either because they are God himself or because they are relative to him as their origin and end. Therefore God is truly the object of this science.”[26]

Though the foremost object of theology is God himself, the goal of knowing God is not merely a striving after bare cognition. Rather, God is studied so that he might be obeyed and enjoyed. Thus, man’s holiness and blessedness are also goals of the theological investigation. Leigh insists, “If God were more known, he would be more loved, feared, honoured, Trusted. God is primum verum which satisfies the understanding, and summum bonum which satisfies the will.”[27] Man’s good is bound up with the study of God (or divinity). In fact, without the knowledge of God man cannot be happy. So Leigh states, including a reference to Eph 4:18, “To be ignorant of God is a great misery; Being alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in them.... Our welfare and happiness consists in the knowledge of God.”[28]

This language of “happiness” echoes the answer to the first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism, which affirms that the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. Thus Leigh maintains the goals of theology as being “first, the glory of God, the celebration or setting forth of God’s infinite excellence, [and] second, man’s blessedness.”[29] Man’s knowledge of God and the ensuing beatitude are to be directed ultimately to the glory of God as the chief end.[30] Still, salvation and eternal blessedness are listed by Leigh as the secondary goal.[31] There is a striking similarity between Leigh’s expression of theology’s aims and those of his Dutch contemporaries, Gisbertus Voetius and Herman Witsius. Writing of the latter two, Muller explains, “Whatever the tools and categories or modes of approach to the materials of theology, theological study was viewed as having a single object, God and the Works of God, and as having a single goal, the glory of God in the salvation of believers.”[32] Leigh simply arranges the single goal of Voetius and Witsius as the primary and secondary aims of divinity. In this order of arrangement he follows an earlier Dutch theologian, Johannes Wollebius. Wollebius argues that since God is the primary object of theology he must also be its primary and final end. He adds, “A subordinate end of sacred theology is our salvation, which consists of communion with God, and enjoyment of him.”[33] Leigh conceives the purpose of theology in the same way as his continental counterparts. Having considered the purpose of divinity, including its proper object and goals, the method of theology must still be explained. How should divinity proceed in order to attain these goals?

3. The Character Of Theology

1. Theology is theoretical and practical. Though Leigh’s method is scholastic the character of his theology is theoretical and practical in accordance with the purpose and goals discussed above. The terms “theory” (theoria) and “practice” ( praxis) were well-defined by the Protestant scholastics. “Theory” did not mean mere rationalization, nor did “practice” indicate mere ethical action. The knowledge indicated by the term “theoretical” is not like the knowledge possessed in other sciences. God is not a set of facts or propositions to be known or discovered; rather, he is to be the chief object of man’s desire and should be beheld and admired for his own glory and worth (see below). This begins in part on earth, in a glass darkly, and is consummated in the eschatological knowledge of God. Medieval theologians characterized this consummate knowledge as the “vision of God” (visio Dei) or the “beatific vision” (visio beatifica). Except for beholding the resurrected Christ, this is not a vision of the eyes, but of the mind: “The visio is cognitio Dei clara et intuitiva, a clear and intuitive knowledge of God, an inward actus intellectus et voluntatis, or act of intellect and will.”[34] This is the final goal of theology.

But, as noted above, knowing God is not the only goal in divinity; love, fear, honor, and trust toward God are also theological aspirations. These practical aims are all aspects of “salvation.” Insofar as theology seeks the salvation of man it is practical: “Since theology is a discipline taught and studied with an end in view, viz., the salvation of mankind, it can be called a praxis, i.e., a practical discipline.”[35] So, Christian theology is at once theoretical (seeking the visio Dei, or visio beatific) and practical (seeking the salvation of men).

On the scholastic understanding of theoria and praxis, Richard Muller offers the following description:

The scholastics, both of the Middle Ages and the seventeenth century, understood both words in their basic etymological sense: theoria (from the Greek verb theorein, “to look at”) indicates something seen or beheld; praxis (from the Greek verb prassein, “to do”) indicates something done or engaged in with an end in view. Theoria, then, is synonymous with contemplation or speculation and indicates the pure beholding of something. To the scholastic mind, this concept of a pure beholding, with no end in view other than the vision of the thing beheld, must be understood in terms of the visio Dei and the ultimate enjoyment of God ( fruitio Dei)by man. Praxis, by contrast, refers to an activity that leads toward an end: theology is understood as practical when it is understood as leading to a goal beyond itself, namely salvation, and is designed therefore to conduce to a righteous life and the love of God.[36]

In the seventeenth century this theoretico-practical conception of theology would have conflicted with the purely practical construction of the Socinians and later Remonstrants.[37] For instance, Benedict de Spinoza, a Dutch contemporary of Leigh’s, wrote in the preface of his Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, “Revelation has obedience for its sole object, and therefore, in purpose no less than in foundation and method, stands entirely aloof from ordinary knowledge.”[38] He later adds, “The aim and object of Scripture is only to teach obedience.” Indeed, the Scripture does not mean to teach knowledge, but merely to inspire obedience.[39] In Spinoza’s view there is no place for a work like Leigh’s Systeme. If theology is all in the “doing” then Leigh’s hundreds of pages, seeking to carefully delineate the knowledge of God, is an entirely misguided project. Such was the challenge Leigh and his fellow Protestant scholastics faced. It is no wonder that they were so self-conscious about explaining the proper character of theology.

Leigh addresses this matter in a five-page discussion at the outset of his work under the heading, “Of Divinity in General.” In doing so he enters into the very concerns of the medieval scholastics. He writes, “It is a Question with the schoolmen, Whether Divinity be Theoretical or Practical.”[40] Leigh’s answer to the question is somewhat difficult to sort out. He does not explicitly express his position as a mixture of the two; rather, he simply sets out both positions with little indication of his sympathy. On conceiving theology as practical he explains that it

seems . . . rather to be practical, 1. Because the Scripture, which is the fountain of true Divinity, exhorts rather to practice then speculation. 1 Tim.. 1 Cor.. & 13.2. Jam. 1.22.24. hence John so often exhorts to love in his first Epistle. 2. Because the end of Divinity, to which we are directed by practical precepts, is the glorifying of God, and the eternal salvation of our souls and bodies, or blessed life, which are principally practical.[41]

He hastens on to set forth the theoretical position as found in Peter du Moulin.

Peter du Moulin in his Oration in the praise of Divinity, thus determines the matter: That part of Theology which treateth of God and his Nature, of his Simplicity, Eternity, Infinitenesse, is altogether contemplative, for these things fall not within compasse of action: that part of it which treateth of our manners, and the well ordering of our lives, is merely practick; for it is wholly referred unto action. Christianity is not a bare profession, or speculative science, but a work, a religion to live by, John. Matth.. Tit.. Theology is more contemplative than practick, seeing contemplation is the scope of action, for by good works we aspire unto the beatificall vision of God.... Divinity first dealeth with the understanding, yet chiefly and principally wooeth the will, it teacheth truth, and presseth goodnesse.[42]

We cannot underestimate these statements when attempting to understand Leigh’s conception of the character of theology. On the one hand, he seems sympathetic to the argument that theology is practical. He insists that Christianity is not merely speculation, but a work and a religion by which to live. Thus, theology should account for both knowing and doing. But when asked which is more basic, it appears Leigh would argue that “knowing” or “understanding” is more basic because “doing” derives its motivation from what is known or seen: “The whole doctrine of Religion is called Theology, that is, a Speech or doctrine concerning God: to signifie that without the true knowledge of God, there can be no true Religion, or right understanding of anything.”[43] There seems to be an organic connection between the two, practice issuing from contemplation. Without a vision of God (i.e., intellectual contemplation) how could man obey or enjoy him?

On the other hand, God is only truly known when he is obeyed. Man cannot be said to know God if the knowledge of God does not move him to keep God’s commandments. Thus, Leigh describes divinity as a practical art: “It is such an art as teacheth a man by the knowledge of Gods will and assistance of his power to live to his glory.... There is no true knowledge of Christ, but that which is practical, since then everything is then truly known, when it is known in the manner it is propounded to be known. But Christ is not propounded to us to be known theoretically but practically.”[44] This final comment is not prejudicing action over knowledge in the Spinozan sense, but rather emphasizes that the saving (true) knowledge of Christ is not merely notional.[45] Leigh is not contradicting his statements regarding knowledge as the proper compass of action; he simply wants to point up that the true knowledge of God always encompasses obedience. This would concur with the sentiment of Voetius, when he wrote that the study of divinity is “the art [or technique] of applying theology to use and practice, to the edification of conscience, and to the direction of the will and its affections.”[46]

This interchange between theoria and praxis certainly influences Leigh’s explanations of theology as sapientia (wisdom). Simply in asking whether divinity is to be categorized as sapientia or scientia (knowledge), he yet again displays his commitment to the scholastic method of reasoning.[47] He does not provide reasons for rejecting scientia, but we may assume that he simply reflects the increasing disuse of this term by the late seventeeth-century scholastics. Scientia had become increasingly associated with Cartesian rationalism in which knowledge was gained only through “mathematical or demonstrative certainty.”[48] The Reformed insisted that “no single intellectual faculty or habit corresponds precisely with theology.”[49] Turretin explains the difficulty of categorizing theology according to other various ways of knowing: “None of the intellectual habits . . . can constitute the true and proper genus of theology because they are all habits of knowing and theology is not a habit of knowing, but of believing.”[50] He does not mean that theology does not convey true and certain knowledge, but rather that such knowledge is not had by way of empirical investigation. Rather, it is based on testimony.

Leigh reflects this same uneasiness with categorizing divinity according to the same terms as the secular disciplines. Theology differs from all other kinds of wisdom (sapientia)in “the manner of knowing, which in Divinity is singular and different from all other arts, viz., by Divine Revelation.”[51] This is exactly the argument Turretin made (see above) seventeen years later in relation to scientia. Yet Leigh sees fit to retain the term sapientia to describe theology. He appears to do this because he regards the term as holding together both theoria and praxis.[52] Christian wisdom, as derived from the Scriptures, is a”most certain knowledge” that touches “all those Offices of Piety in which we are obliged by God to our neighbor.”[53] Clearly both theoretical and practical elements are operative in sapientia.

The question remains as to how theoria and praxis can be combined. Muller’s description of these terms given above poses some difficult questions in connection with Leigh’s understanding of the relation between knowing and doing. Leigh seems to deny that knowledge alone is real knowledge, concluding that God is only truly known when he is known practically. How does that fit with Muller’s depiction of the scholastic conception of theoria as “pure beholding” with no other end in view than the vision of the thing beheld? The answer seems to lie in Leigh’s construction of divinity’s goals. For him, the visio Dei is not only a prerequisite for praxis (e.g., love, worship, and obedience toward God), but it is also the goal of all praxis inasmuch as it is entailed within the fruitio Dei (the enjoyment of God). The movement, then, is from knowledge to practice to knowledge again. Thus, he explains that man aspires to the beatific vision of God in his good works (see above). Now, this final eschatological “speculation,” or beholding, of God will also be at once supremely practical in that it will constitute man’s perfect communion with and conformity to God in love. Knowing and beholding God is salvation in the ultimate sense. Leigh describes this “fruition of glory”: “This end has diverse names in Scripture, it is called, The knowledge of God, John 17.3. Partaking of the Divine Nature, 2 Pet. 1.4. Likeness to God, 1 John 3.2.” He adds, “Eternal Salvation, the vision and fruition of God, is the chiefest good.”[54] Salvation and conformity to God are often categorized as practical, yet in Leigh’s scheme they are bound together with the theoretical knowledge of God in the visio Dei. This leads only to the conclusion that theology, though scholastic in method, is theoreticopractical in character.[55]

2. Theology subjects reason to revelation. Before the implications of this theoreticopractical notion of theology are considered for Leigh’s doctrine of God, it must also be understood how he relates revelation and reason. The portrait of Reformed scholastics as painted by Brian Armstrong assumes that reason and ratiocination are, at best, on par with Scripture in the scholastic method, and, at worst, used to subject the Scriptures to the powers of man’s intellect. This charge does not hold with respect to Leigh’s stated principles of theology in which Scripture is the principium cognoscendi and God is the principium essendi.[56]

In addition to an affirmation of Scripture as the source of knowledge one can also detect the preeminence of the redemptive record in the very shape of Leigh’s Systeme. The division of topics, beginning with Scripture and God, proceeds through the fall to redemption and finally to glorification. Muller explains this historic-redemptive pattern of dogmatics:

The synthetic model, by definition, began with first principles and then traced out its order through means of instrumentalities toward the ultimate goal: this model is reflected in the Reformed patterning of system to move from Scripture and God, the two principia theologiae, through the body of doctrine to the last things. Yet this model neither presses a central dogma on the Reformed system nor indicates a purely deductive approach: the topics of the system were elicited from Scripture, echoed the centuries-old assumptions concerning the basic topics in theology, and were given their content on the basis of rather painstaking reflection on Scripture and tradition.[57]

The whole construction of Leigh’s Systeme refutes the accusation of being rationalistically executed and arranged.

Besides affirming Scripture as his source of knowledge and structuring his theology according to redemptive history, Leigh offers his readers five reasons for prizing Scripture: (1) Christ did so; (2) it is divinely inspired; (3) it is the sword of the Spirit and instrument by which he works; (4) it is surer than immediate revelation (2 Pet 1:19); and (5) God has committed it to writing that it may be the standing rule of instruction and consolation.[58]

The difficulty lies in understanding how Leigh can profess such a high view of Scripture and yet produce a body of divinity that articulates itself so frequently in the language of medieval scholasticism and philosophy. He can be found arguing his point from metaphysics and philosophy in discussions about the boundaries of natural bodies and the nature of secondary and primary causes.[59] In speaking of God as the unmoved mover he even mentions with approval Plato, Aristotle, and “all the best Philosophers.”[60] Thus, it is true that Leigh employs a strong use of reason and philosophy in his treatise. But this conspicuous use of reason itself does not indicate that he was rationalistic. At the opening of the same section where we find discussions of essences, bodies, and causal chains Leigh writes, “The weightiest testimony that can be brought to prove that there is a God, is to produce the Testimony of God speaking in his word.”[61]

Leigh’s use of reason and philosophy is instrumental, not principial. Muller explains this in relation to the Protestant scholastics: “The presentation of logical or rational arguments in the context of faith and the typically scholastic recognition of a series of authorities are not supportive of rationalism unless reason is established as the primary authority and used as the foundation and source of the content of thought rather than as an instrument in argumentation.”[62] In relation to the doctrine of God, we may safely assume that Leigh would have agreed with Zanchius who wrote, “For there are very many divine attributes that in my opinion cannot be sufficiently explained or even understood unless that which is offered to us by Philosophy is accepted and applied. For we do not immediately leave the School of Christ when we enter the Lycaeum. Nor do we confuse the sciences when we employ the artes in explaining Scripture.”[63]

One final issue in relating revelation and reason has to do with how one arrives at theological conclusions. This is especially pertinent to Leigh’s explanation of the doctrine of divine simplicity. He rejects any approach to divinity that is content simply to cite Scripture.[64] According to Leigh, Scripture demands adherence to more than what is expressly set down; whatever is a good and necessary consequence also passes as orthodox doctrine. He writes,

Others deny consequences out of Scripture to be Scripture, nothing is Scripture (say they) but what is found there expressly. What is necessarily inferred is Scripture as well as what is literally expressed, Levit. 10.1. The Apostle proves the Resurrection by consequence. Paul and Apollo Act. 17.3. & 18.28, proved to the Jews by Scriptures that Jesus was the Christ, although in those Scriptures these very words are not found, but are deduced by a necessary consequence.[65]

Thus, the instrumental use of reason in deducing consequential doctrines is indispensible to arriving at a sound and biblical conclusion. Muller again:

This argument [that theology consists both in scriptural principles and in conclusions drawn from them] was crucial to the scholastic Protestant definition of scripture as the cognitive principle ( principium cognoscendi) of theology: the radical sola scriptura of the Reformers can be maintained only on the assumption that the theological system rests not only on statements drawn directly from scripture but also on logical conclusions resting on scriptural premises.[66]

It should not be surprising that Leigh promotes a strong instrumental use of reason; this is nothing less than what the Westminster Confession of Faith, which he prizes so highly, teaches: “The whole counsel of God concerning all things necessary for his own glory, man’s salvation, faith and life, is either expressly set down in Scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from Scripture.”[67]

III. Leigh’s Theological Method As Applied To The Doctrine Of Divine Simplicity

Of all the doctrines wherein the Protestant scholastics might be charged with arid speculation and rationalism, none is more suspect than their treatment of God’s simplicity. Is not their scholastic handling of this doctrine proof of their pronounced interest in metaphysical matters, and in abstract, speculative reasoning? It might be thought that even if Leigh were able to marshal a theoreticopractical construction of other doctrines, he certainly could not do so in his discussion of divine simplicity.

1. Leigh’s Explanation Of God’s Simplicity

Leigh’s account of God’s simplicity offers no variation from that generally stated by the medieval catholic theologians: “Simplicity is a property of God, whereby he is void of all composition, mixtion and division, being all Essence; whatsoever is in God, is God. Simpleness is the first property of God, which cannot in any sort agree to any creature.”[68] Leigh lists five ways in which God is free of composition: (1) Of quantitative parts, as a body; (2) Of essential parts, matter and form, as a man consists of soul and body; (3) Of a genus and difference, as every species; (4) Of subject and accidents, as a learned man, a white wall; (5) Of act and power, as the spirits.[69] The first four of these follow the same order found in Aquinas’s Summa Theologiae.[70]

Of course Leigh, like his medieval and Reformed predecessors, had a very specific purpose in adopting this doctrine. He declares, “God is absolutely Simple, he is but one thing, and doth not consist of any parts; he hath no accidents; but himself, his Essence and Attributes are all one thing, though by us diversly considered and understood. If he did consist of parts, there must be something before him, to put those parts together; and then he were not Eternal.”[71] That is to say, there would have been a point in God’s existence when he was not the God he now is. Leigh references Isa 43:10 as evidence that nothing can be before God: “Before me there was no God formed, neither shall there be after me.”

If God were not simple he would not be the most perfect and ultimate being. Echoing Anselm and Aquinas, Leigh writes, “Everything the more simple . . . the more excellent.”[72] The idea is that the less complex a thing is the less it depends for its nature on other things. Only God is absolutely simple, depending on nothing for his existence or essence. This is the thrust of the doctrine as found in Anselm, who writes, “But undoubtedly, whatever thou [God] art, thou art through nothing else than thyself. Therefore, thou art the very life whereby thou livest; and the wisdom wherewith thou art wise; and the very goodness whereby thou art good to the righteous and the wicked; and so of other like attributes.”[73] Compare this with Leigh’s statement regarding God’s attributes: “They are all Essential to God: for in him is no accident at all; whatsoever is in God, the same is God. Gods wisdome is Himself, and his Power is Himself.”[74] There is no potentiality in God. He is pure act.[75]Theologically this is a way of expressing God’s aseity, his total self-sufficiency. Indeed, his very name, Jehovah, signifies his “Perfect, Absolute and simple Being, of and by himself.”[76] If God were not absolutely simple he could not be truly of and by himself. He would have to go to some more basic and eternal source than himself in order to constitute his essence. Thus, he would be dependent.

2. The Scriptural Argument For Divine Simplicity

Where Leigh advances the discussion of simplicity beyond the medieval scholastics is in his attempt to demonstrate it from Scripture. He does not criticize the medieval representation of the doctrine as speculative or overly philosophized; rather, he suffuses his discussion with Scripture references and short explanations of the passages. Of course, this scriptural emphasis did appear more prominently in Aquinas than in Anselm, but not so conspicuously as it does in Leigh.

An example of Leigh’s use of Scripture is demonstrated in his treatment of the distinction of the divine attributes. In keeping with the traditional doctrine of God’s simplicity he writes, “These Attributes differ not among themselves, nor from the Divine Essence.”[77] Leigh cites support for this view in Isa 43:5, where God says to Israel, “Fear not; for I am with thee.” Leigh’s point is that God was with Israel in his merciful acts on their behalf. Thus, even though Israel perceived that God’s mercy was with them, it was, of course, God himself who was there since his attributes are identical to him. Leigh explains the passage: “[God says] For myself, not for my Mercy; to teach us, that his Mercy is himself, and not different from his Essence, as it is with us.”[78]

Another example of his attempt to ground the doctrine in Scripture is found in his explanation that God is all his attributes both concretely and abstractly. He states, “In God to be, to will, and to do are the same.”[79] Leigh points to John 14:6 as evidence that God just is his attributes: “Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life.” In addition to this he compares 1 John 1:7 (“he is in the light”) to 1 John 1:5 (“God is light, and in him is no darkness at all”). Leigh explains: “to have life, and be life; to be in the light, and be light, are the same. God is therefore called in the Abstract Light, Life, Love, Truth.”[80] In support Leigh refers again to John 14:6 and to 1 John 4:8 (“God is love”).

Though modern biblical exegetes may balk at the idea that these passages support the metaphysical conclusion that Leigh draws, historians must appreciate the Protestant scholastics’ attempt to ground even their most penetrating metaphysical comments upon a right interpretation of the Scriptures. Here is no intellectualistic subversion of the Scriptures to reason, but rather an instrumental use of reason attempting to give expression to the metaphysical implications of particular passages. Thus, Leigh’s treatment of divine simplicity is at once traditionally catholic and reformationally scriptural.

3. The Practical Use Of The Doctrine Of Divine Simplicity

Can this traditional doctrine, even if it is truly built upon the Scriptures, really be useful or practical for the Christian? Leigh certainly thinks so. He mentions numerous benefits of understanding divine simplicity. First, it, possibly more than any other doctrine, highlights the Creator–creature distinction. Absolute simplicity does not agree in any way to creatures. Leigh writes of God: “He is a Spiritual, Simple, and Immaterial Essence. His Essence is substantial, an Essence which hath a being in itself, not in another, simply and wholly immaterial (he is one most Pure and meer Act) but Incomprehensible goes quite beyond our knowledge; so that we cannot comprehend his Essence, nor know it as it is.”[81] Of the properties in God he writes, “In God they are Infinite, Unchangeable and Perfect, even the Divine Essence itself; and therefore indeed all one and the same, but in men and Angels they are finite, changeable and imperfect, meer qualities, divers, they receiving them by participation only, not being such of themselves by nature.”[82] Thus, the Creator–creature distinction is seen, in part, in that God is simple and man complex.

The practical side of grasping the Creator–creature distinction is that it humbles man, and puts the fear of God in his heart. Knowing God in all his glory, such as the truth that he is simple and wholly self-sufficient, demonstrates to man how little he knows and how self-insufficient he truly is as God’s creature.[83] Furthermore, the truth that God is wholly independent and man entirely dependent serves to make man’s sin more offensive to him. Leigh writes, “The cleare knowledge of God raiseth a mans thoughts greatly touching the sinfullnesse of sinne.”[84] He sees that his offenses are not ultimately against another creature, but against one who is infinitely more sufficient (as evidenced in his simplicity) and powerful. But this view of God’s simplicity is not only meant for humbling man, but also for inspiring awe in him: “The sight of God fils a man with large affections toward him, and makes a man desire greater friendship and familiarity with him, and also brings a man to submit to the will of God.”[85]

Another benefit is that divine simplicity is the proof to man of God’s dependability. Consider how Leigh plies the doctrine of simplicity for the comfort of the Christian: “This may minister comfort to Gods people; Gods attributes are not mutable accidents, but his very Essence: His Love and Mercy are like himself, Infinite, Immutable and Eternal.”[86] He appeals to simplicity to offer comfort and assurance to the believer. How can the Christian know that God will not change? The answer is that God’s being is coterminous with his attributes. Leigh’s point is that God is not contingent, so that he may suddenly (or gradually) be other than he is. Unlike a white wall or a learned man (which may still be a wall or a man even if no longer white or learned), God would no longer be God if he were to lose any one of his essential attributes. His nature is as sure as his existence; his being does not precede his essence, but rather both are mutually exhaustive of one another in him. So Leigh can say by way of consolation and warning, “Here is a matter of joy and comfort to the good; Mercy and Love are Gods Essence . . . and of Fear and Terror to the wicked, because Gods Anger and Justice are his Essence, and he is Unchangeable.”[87]

A final way in which the doctrine of simplicity is useful to the believer is that it shows him wherein his sufficiency lies. God is the ultimate source of all good. As it is denied that there is any potential in God (i.e., God is not becoming), which would contradict his simplicity, man may conclude that he is not inert in any sense. All his attributes are “actually and operatively” in him.[88] He is not waiting to become something other than he is or to actualize some dormant property. Thus, man can confidently seek all things from God. Leigh explains: “Gods wisdome is the fountain of wisdome to us: We are to seek eternal life from his Eternity.”[89] Leigh references Rom 6:23 as proof: “. . . the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” His point is that man does not receive eternal life apart from God himself (esp. the Son in this case), who is himself eternal Life. Philosophically, Leigh is controverting the notion of platonic Forms. But there is a practical thrust: “All these are in God objectively and finally; our holinesse looks upon his holinesse, as the face in the Looking-glasse on the man, whose representation it is; and our holinesse ends in his.”[90] There is no “Form” of holiness to be found alongside of or back of God.

All of this means that man can trust God for all his needs because God is the ultimate source of all goodness. Put another way, man’s trust in God as “good” does not depend on the sturdiness of the more basic and universal abstract idea of goodness lying back of God. There are no universal notions or standards outside of or back of him. Were that the case man would have to have a more basic faith and confidence in those universals in order to be able to rely on God. Divine simplicity is a way of explaining that God is all of his attributes in the highest and ultimate sense. This is the reason that God can swear by none higher than himself.[91] There is nothing more sure, dependable, or absolute than he. Thus Leigh says that man’s holiness “ends” in God’s holiness; the believer has the supply of all he needs for life and godliness in God’s nature. But this only holds if God’s nature is simple. Such is the practical thrust of Leigh’s teaching on divine simplicity.

IV. Conclusion

In answer to the opening question, it would appear that scholastic theology is in no way opposed to practical divinity in the thought of the Protestant scholastics. Even its exacting divisions, questions, and conclusions can serve to foster a religion of the heart. In truth, because practical theology falls within the compass of theoretical theology the scholastic method was probably better suited to cultivate heart religion than the purely practical approaches of the Socinians and Remonstrants. In Leigh there is no divide between theology and piety. As he puts it, “Our welfare and happiness consists in the knowledge of God,” which, “in the life to come is called the Beautiful vision.”[92]

Notes

1. Representatives of this perspective include R. T. Kendall, Alister McGrath, and Brian Armstrong.
2. Brian G. Armstrong, Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy: Protestant Scholasticism and Humanism in Seventeenth-Century France (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1969), 31.
3. Ibid., 32.
4. Ibid.
5. It is beyond the scope of this article to go into a detailed critique of the “humanism versus scholasticism” approach to the history of the Reformed tradition. For a historiographical critique of this tendency to set in opposition Calvin and the Calvinists see Richard A. Muller, After Calvin: Studies in the Development of a Theological Tradition (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003). Cf. Carl R. Trueman, “Calvin and Calvinism,” in The Cambridge Companion to John Calvin (ed. Donald K. McKim; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 225-44.
6. John Sutton, “Leigh, Edward,” in Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (ed. H. C. G. Matthew and Brian Harrison; 60 vols.; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 33:233-34; hereafter “DNB.” All biographical information on Leigh is taken from this source unless otherwise noted.
7. Leigh suggests that he agrees with Richard Baxter on this matter. In Edward Leigh, A Systeme or Body of Divinity (London: William Lee, 1662), “To the Reader” (4). (All page numbers appearing in parentheses are supplied by the present writer in that the pages are unnumbered in the original.) It is not entirely clear whether Baxter was a Presbyterian or Episcopalian. Generally the scholarship concludes that he held to a primitive form of episcopacy. We may safely assume that Leigh held to the same, though he speaks very highly of Presbyterianism. See ibid., 645-55. Cf. Irvonwy Morgan, The Nonconformity of Richard Baxter (London: The Epworth Press, 1946), 124-30.
8. Muller, After Calvin, 117. In context Muller is giving a summary description of what the Reformed scholastic minister was expected to be. Leigh fits the expectation of the learned clergyman quite well.
9. Ibid., 77. Muller notes genres such as exegetical, catechetical, positive (non-disputative), and ascetic.
10. DNB 33:233.
11. A “faithfull Friend and Servant,” denominated only as “T. B.” (who we may presume to be Thomas Barlow), prefixed the following sentiments to Leigh’s Systeme: “I Have seriously read a good part of your Book, and am very well pleased both with the Matter and Method of it, and doubt not but it will be of exceeding great use for all that would be Protestants by Advice, and not by Chance; all that would examine, and be satisfied in the Grounds and Foundations of their Religion; indeed it will be for poore Divines (as I fear too many are like to be) rather a little Library, than a single Book, seeing they may have in it so many and so pertinent Proofs and Quotations put orderly in a readinesse for them.” In Leigh, Systeme, following “To the Reader” (page unnumbered in the original).
12. He lays out the topics of his ten books as follows: (1) Scripture, (2) God (existence, essence, & triunity), (3) works of God, (4) the fall and sin, (5) salvation (recovery by Christ), (6) ecclesiology (and Antichrist), (7) union with Christ (Holy Spirit), (8) the ordinances (esp. baptism), (9) the Decalogue, and (10) glorification. Edward Leigh, Systeme, “To the Reader” (2-4). Muller maintains that the use of the locus method indicates an interrelationship between humanism and scholasticism. After Calvin, 73.
13. Muller offers the following definition of scholasticism: “In the standard scholarly definitions, ‘scholasticism’ does not refer to a particular theology or philosophy but to a method developed in the medieval schools in order to facilitate academic argument, specifically argument leading to the resolution of objections, the identification and use of distinctions, and the establishment of right conclusions.” After Calvin, 75.
14. Ibid., 74.
15. Leigh, Systeme, “Epistle Dedicatory” (6).
16. Muller, After Calvin, 145. Though Muller says this in relation to Turretin’s Institutes of Elenctic Theology (1679-1685), it is equally relevant to Leigh’s Systeme.
17. Leigh, Systeme, “To the Reader” (1).
18. Numerous references to the Westminster Confession of Faith can be found throughout the Systeme.
19. Charles II, suspected by many of a covert commitment to Romanism, had been restored in 1660. Leigh expresses the earnest desire that the Reformed Churches in England not be weakened by their divisions and thus “accomplish their enemies great design.” The enemy in this case was Rome. The Protestants needed doctrinal solidarity lest the Jesuits succeed in a takeover of England. For a clear indication of Leigh’s anti-Roman agenda see Systeme, “The Epistle Dedicatory” (5-6).
20. Ibid., “To the Reader” (2).
21. Richard A. Muller, Prolegomena to Theology (vol. 1 of Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics; 2d ed.; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2003), 313-14. For Leigh’s identification of the archetypal and ectypal distinctions in theology see Systeme, 2.
22. Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology (ed. James T. Dennison Jr.; trans. George Mus-grave Giger; 3 vols.; Phillipsburg, N.J.: Presbytrian & Reformed, 1992-1997), 1.5.1.
23. Ibid., 1.5.2.
24. Leigh, Systeme, 144.
25. William Perkins, A Golden Chaine: or, The Description of Theology, in The Workes of That Famous and Worthy Minister of Christ in the Universitie of Cambridge, Mr. William Perkins (3 vols.; London: John Legatt, 1626), 1:11.
26. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae: Latin Text and English Translation, Introductions, Notes, Appendices and Glossaries (ed. and trans. Thomas Gilby et al.; 59 vols.; London and New York: Eyre & Spottiswoode and McGraw-Hill, 1964-1981), 1:1a. 1, 7.
27. Leigh, Systeme, “To the Reader” (2-3).
28. Ibid., 144.
29. Ibid., 5.
30. Ibid., 3.
31. Ibid.
32. Muller, After Calvin, 119.
33. Johannes Wollebius, Compendium Theologiae Christianae, in Reformed Dogmatics (ed. and trans. John W. Beardslee III; New York: Oxford University Press, 1965), 35. Salvation entails beatitude. For Leigh, beatitude entails the visio Dei, which is to behold or contemplate God. This is an important point when asking what it means for theology to be practical.
34. Richard A. Muller, Dictionary of Latin and Greek Theological Terms: Drawn Principally from Protestant Scholastic Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1985), 327.
35. Ibid., 244.
36. Muller, Prolegomena, 341.
37. Muller, After Calvin, 141.
38. Benedictus de Spinoza, The Chief Works of Benedict De Spinoza: A Theologico-Political Treatise and A Political Treatise (trans. R. H. M. Elwes; 2 vols.; New York: Dover, 1955), 1:9-10.
39. Ibid., 1:183.
40. Leigh, Systeme, 2.
41. Ibid.
42. Ibid.
43. Ibid.
44. Ibid., 3; emphasis added.
45. The context suggests that this is Leigh’s intended meaning, even if he employs a slight overstatement at this point.
46. Gisbertus Voetius, Ta Asketika sive de exercitiis pietatis, 12; cited in Muller, After Calvin, 116.
47. Leigh, Systeme, 3.
48. Muller, Prolegomena, 330-31.
49. Ibid., 331.
50. Turretin, Institutes, 1.6.4. This critique of classifying theology as scientia does not signify a disagreement with earlier Protestants, like William Perkins, who used the description quite freely. It was simply a way of responding to new challenges such as Cartesian philosophy. The scholastic method and conclusions of the late sixteenth century are substantially quite similar to those of the mid to late seventeenth century.
51. Leigh, Systeme, 3.
52. See the discussion on sapientia in Wolfhart Pannenberg, Theology and the Philosophy of Science (trans. Francis McDonagh; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1976), 232.
53. Leigh, Systeme, 3
54. Ibid.
55. Turretin develops this position more extensively than Leigh in his Institutes, 1.7.1-15. He writes, “We consider theology to be neither simply theoretical nor simply practical, but partly theoretical, partly practical, as that which at the same time connects the theory of the true with the practice of the good.” Inst. 1.7.2.
56. Leigh, Systeme, 144. For his treatment of the authority of Scripture see Systeme, 6-37.
57. Muller, After Calvin, 95.
58. Leigh, Systeme, 5.
59. Ibid., 154.
60. Ibid.
61. Ibid., 147. For Leigh, saving knowledge comes through testimony, not empiricism.
62. Muller, After Calvin, 79.
63. Cited in Harm Goris, “Thomism in Zanchi’s Doctrine of God,” in Reformation and Scholasticism: An Ecumenical Enterprise (ed. Willem J. van Asselt and Eef Dekker; Texts and Studies in Reformation and Post-Reformation Thought; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2001), 124-25.
64. Incidentally, in the seventeenth century the Socinians were notoriously fond of insisting that only what is explicitly set down in Scripture is to be believed, hence their denial of the Trinity.
65. Leigh, Systeme, “To the Reader” (2).
66. Muller, After Calvin, 139.
67. WCF 1.6.
68. Leigh, Systeme, 166.
69. Ibid.
70. Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 2:1a. 3. 2, 3, 5, 6.
71. Leigh, Systeme, 166-67; emphasis added.
72. Ibid., 166. In the context Leigh qualifies this statement by explaining that this simplicity is in reference to mixture and not to the depths of complex wisdom found in the gospel.
73. Anselm, Proslogium, ch. 12, in St. Anselm: Proslogium; Monologium; An Appendix in Behalf of the Fool by Gaunilon; and Cur Deus Homo (trans. Sidney Norton Deane; La Salle, Ill.: The Open Court Publishing Company, 1903; repr., 1948).
74. Leigh, Systeme, 160.
75. Ibid., 158.
76. Ibid., 159. “Jehovah” is the only name of God treated in this context. Apparently Leigh does not follow what Richard Muller identifies as the frequent practice of the Reformed orthodox of framing their discussion of the divine attributes with a discourse on the divine names. See Muller, After Calvin, 75.
77. Leigh, Systeme, 160.
78. Ibid.
79. Ibid., 167.
80. Ibid. William Perkins makes the case for God’s simplicity from these very same texts. See his Golden Chaine, 11. Wilhelmus à Brakel (1635-1711) does likewise in The Christian’s Reasonable Service (ed. Joel R. Beeke; trans. Bartel Elshout; 4 vols.; Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage Books, 1992-1995), 1:99.
81. Leigh, Systeme, 158.
82. Ibid., 162; emphasis added.
83. Ibid. Some, who conceive of “practical” as strictly referring to action, may not accept that knowledge of God’s self-sufficiency is truly practical. For a challenge to the notion that “practical” only indicates action, see Pannenberg, Theology and the Philosophy of Science, 232-33.
84. Leigh, Systeme, 162.
85. Ibid.
86. Ibid., 161; emphasis added.
87. Ibid., 167.
88. Ibid., 160.
89. Ibid.
90. Ibid.
91. Ibid., 167.
92. Ibid., 144.