The Theology of the Westminster Standards E-Book

J. V. Fesko

• Herausgeber: Crossway
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 827

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

For centuries, countless Christians have turned to the Westminster Standards for insights into the Christian faith. These renowned documents—first published in the middle of the 17th century—are still considered by many to be some of the most beautifully written summaries of the Bible's teaching ever produced. Church historian John Fesko walks readers through the background and theology of the Westminster Confession, the Larger Catechism, and the Shorter Catechism, helpfully situating them within their original context. Organized according to the major categories of systematic theology, this book utilizes quotations from other key works from the same time period to shed light on the history and significance of these influential documents.

Leseprobe

The

THEOLOGY

of the

WESTMINSTERSTANDARDS

HISTORICAL CONTEXT AND THEOLOGICAL INSIGHTS

J. V. FESKO

The Theology of the Westminster Standards: Historical Context and Theological Insights

Copyright © 2014 by John Valero Fesko

Published by Crossway1300 Crescent StreetWheaton, Illinois 60187

Cover design: Dual Identity, inc.

Cover images: The Bridgeman Art Library

First printing 2014

Printed in the United States of America

Trade paperback ISBN: 978-1-4335-3311-2

PDF ISBN: 978-1-4335-3312-9

Mobipocket ISBN: 978-1-4335-3313-6

ePub ISBN: 978-1-4335-3314-3

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Fesko, J. V., 1970–

   The theology of the Westminster standards : historical context and theological insights / J. V. Fesko.

       1 online resource

   Includes bibliographical references and index.

       Description based on print version record and CIP date provided by publisher; resource not viewed.

   ISBN 978-1-4335-3312-9 (pdf) – ISBN 978-1-4335-3313-6 (mobi) – ISBN 978-1-4335-3314-3 (epub) – ISBN 978-1-4335-3311-2 (tp)

   1. Westminster Confession of Faith. 2. Reformed

Church—Doctrines. I. Title.

BX9183

238′.5—dc23                                                         2014008972

Crossway is a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

To W. Robert Godfrey,defensor fidei reformata

Contents

Preface

Acknowledgments

Abbreviations

1 Introduction

2 The Historical and Theological Context

3 The Doctrine of Scripture

4 God and the Decree

5 Covenant and Creation

6 The Doctrine of Christ

7 Justification

8 Sanctification

9 The Law of God and the Christian Life

10 The Church

11 Worship

12 Eschatology

13 Conclusion

Select Annotated Bibliography

General Index

Scripture Index

Index of the Westminster Standards

Preface

Ever since I first heard about the Westminster Standards—the Confession and the Larger and Shorter Catechisms—I began to study and read them with great interest and appreciation. During my days in seminary, when I found myself having to defend what was for me the newly discovered Reformed faith, I found the Confession to be immensely helpful in its explanation of the various doctrines of the Bible. The more I read, the more I realized that there was much to be learned from these documents. After further academic preparation in graduate school, I set out to write a line-by-line commentary on the Confession, a task I soon discovered was like trying to scale Mount Everest without the proper equipment. Not only was each line of the Confession loaded with dense theological significance, but also I routinely found myself running into dead ends because I was unable to consult numerous primary sources that were nestled in footnotes. I realized that writing the type of commentary I wanted would require a lot of financial resources, either to purchase seventeenth-century works or at least to travel to libraries around the world to gain access to them. I eventually decided that my goal, for the time being, was unattainable, and so I set the project aside for another day.

Nearly a decade would pass before I saw the light of opportunity dawn when I noticed several technological developments. The first was the discovery of Early English Books Online, which afforded me access to an abundant number of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century theological works. The second were the libraries around the world, in addition to Google’s project of scanning old books, that opened a new window of opportunity; this was especially true when the Post-Reformation Digital Library (www.prdl.org) was launched. The PRDL is a tremendous resource that gave me access to virtually every conceivable work I could desire, and what was even better, I could now download these works to my computer or iPad and read and study numerous early modern theological works. I have to admit that I do miss sitting in a special-collections room, carefully turning the pages of an ancient tome, and walking away knowing that I have actually touched a piece of the seventeenth-century. However, what would once have cost tens of thousands of dollars in travel and expenditures for purchasing antiquarian books was now virtually free of charge.

I initially prepared my research for this book as the source material for a course that I teach at Westminster Seminary California on the Westminster Standards. The course was once an elective but is now required for all graduating seniors. I wanted to expose students to not only the theology of these documents but also their history, brilliance, and precision. At the same time, any honest exploration of history will quickly expose the weaknesses of those who wrote documents such as the Westminster Standards. I want to disabuse contemporary readers of the Westminster Standards of a saccharine view of history, one in which these documents were written in a golden age of piety and theology. History is messy, and the times are often complex. The more I study the historical context of the Westminster Standards, the more I am struck by the complexity and messiness of it all.

I am also impressed, however, by the truth of a medieval maxim, namely, that God draws straight lines with crooked sticks. In other words, as messy and complex as the seventeenth century was, the Westminster Standards are an amazing set of confessional documents. A testimony of their abiding worth is that many Reformed denominations still, hundreds of years later, profess and confess the Reformed faith as it is codified in the Westminster Standards.

Still, in my own ministry in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, I have found that many in the church are unfamiliar with the rich history surrounding these documents, as well as the subtlety, beauty, and precision that mark them. I have sat on the floor of meetings of presbytery or general assembly and listened to ministers and elders appeal to these documents in an imprecise way. I have been guilty of this myself, which is one of the reasons I wanted to undertake a more deliberate and historically sensitive study of these documents—so that I could learn, study, and appreciate what my theological forebearers preserved for the church. The Westminster divines wrote their confession of faith and catechisms chiefly for the glory of God and the edification of the church. I have sought to study and document my research in this book toward the same two goals: soli Deo gloria and the edification of the church.

My hope and prayer is that people will benefit from this book in a number of ways. First, that ministers, elders, teachers, candidates for the ministry, and seminarians would have a resource where they can learn more about the Westminster Standards. These documents are rich and deep, and at times, given the passage of time, clouded in a certain degree of obscurity. Second, my desire would be that interested laymen within the church would also be able to benefit from this book. Granted, those with theological training will have an easier time digesting its contents. I nevertheless believe that a patient reading of this book will profit anyone who is willing to invest the effort.

Third, I see this book not as an ending but as a beginning. Anyone who has carefully studied the Westminster Standards and the assembly that wrote them knows that there is a mountain of information, one that will occupy generations to come. In this regard, then, I see this book as an introduction to the subject, and one that is not exhaustive but illustrative of the theology of the early modern Reformed tradition. For this reason I have included a select annotated bibliography to encourage others to dive into the primary and secondary sources and do their own research.

Fourth, given that the Westminster Standards form the core of the Savoy Declaration (1658) and the Second London Confession (1689), the Congregational and Reformed Baptist versions of the Confession, I hope that this work proves useful and edifying for those beyond the various Presbyterian churches that employ the Confession and catechisms as their doctrinal standards. In the end, I have written this book for the church, that it might better understand the faith once delivered to the saints.

Readers should note several things about this book before they wade into it:

1. I cite the original 1646–1647 edition of the Confession, catechisms, and Directory for Public Worship published in a facsimile, The Westminster Standards (Audubon, NJ: Old Paths Publications, 1997). All references, unless otherwise noted, come from this edition.

2. The original edition of the catechisms did not number the questions. I have employed common numbering found in later editions for ease of reference.

3. Unless otherwise noted, all quoted confessions and catechisms are taken from Jaroslav Pelikan and Valerie Hotchkiss, Creeds and Confessions of Faith in the Christian Tradition, vol. 2 (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003).

4. For some, the repeated inclusion of life spans following theologians’ names may seem tedious, but I believe it is vital to know when a theologian lived. The inclusion of these dates shows that numerous theologians between 1560 and 1640 were formative upon the expressions of the Standards. So in each chapter I provide the life span, birth, death, baptism date, or period in which each theologian flourished. I have obtained these dates from a number of sources, including Google and the Dictionary of National Biography, but chiefly through the PRDL. I have obtained the dates of a number of the Westminster divines from volume 1 of the Minutes and Papers of the Westminster Assembly, edited by Chad Van Dixhoorn, 5 vols. (Oxford: OUP, 2012).

5. Throughout this study I employ the term divine as shorthand for a member of the Westminster Assembly, even though this word was a common seventeenth-century term that simply meant “theologian.”

6. All scriptural quotations are rendered as they appear in the sources I quote or are taken from the King James Bible. I have chosen to use the King James Version because it was the Bible commonly in use when the Westminster Standards were created.

7. Though early modernity covers 1500–1800, in this study I use the term primarily to cover the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and hence I refer to early modern Reformed theology.

8. The bulk of the references and citations from primary sources have been obtained directly from them. If I was alerted to an important work by a secondary source, I place that secondary source in the footnote after the primary-source reference, which means I have consulted the primary source directly. All other references obtained from secondary sources are clearly marked by the phrase “as quoted in,” or similar wording.

9. All foreign-language translations, unless otherwise indicated, are my own; the original-language quotation or phrase typically appears in the footnote.

10. Titles of works and publishers’ names in early modern sources sometimes vary among citations or editions of the same work. I have not tried to reconcile all such instances or the diverse spellings of terms in quotations (including then for than), a common occurrence prior to the standardization of English spelling. Nor have I modernized spellings or supplied omitted apostrophes.

In the end, I hope that you, the reader, find this material as interesting, fascinating, and inspiring as I have. Tolle et lege! Take up and read!

Acknowledgments

A project of this magnitude and depth is not created in a vacuum and usually relies upon the kindness and long-suffering of colleagues and friends who read over drafts to ensure clarity, accuracy, and competency. This book is no exception to this rule, and therefore there are a number of people I want to thank for reading through early drafts: Ryan McGraw, Brent Ferry, John Muether, Nic Lazzereschi, Mike Horton, Jon Payne, Herman Selderhuis, Jim Renihan, David Fergusson, John Stovall, Brian Hecker, and Wally King. I am especially grateful to Dave VanDrunen for reading over the whole manuscript and making careful editorial and substantive suggestions. I have greatly benefited from the help of these friends and colleagues, but I alone bear the responsibility for any shortcomings or errors.

Thank you to my wife, Anneke, my lads, Val and Rob, and Carmen Penelope, whom my wife presently carries (and whom I hope to convince to like Princess Leia and a blaster rather than Barbie and her pink Corvette—that’s at least what this scruffy nerf herder can hope for). I am thankful for your love, encouragement, prayers, and support. I hope that you, my children, will come to love and embrace the Reformed faith and that you will learn much from the Westminster Standards.

The first time I came across Bob Godfrey was at a Ligonier conference during the controversy surrounding Evangelicals and Catholics Together. As someone who was relatively new to the Reformed faith, I found Bob’s lecture on Luther, the Reformation, and the doctrine of justification inspiring. I admired his gifts and, quite frankly, his moxie to herald boldly the scriptural teaching on sola fide. But this was not the first time Bob engaged challenges to the Reformed faith. During the days of the Shepherd controversy at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia, Bob spent some time in one of his classes addressing the doctrine of justification and concluded, “It seems to me much wiser to stay with the presentation of the doctrine as found in the Standards. And of course I argue that because I am convinced that the doctrines found in the Standards faithfully reflect the Scripture.” Later in his ministry, in 1993, Bob was appointed as the third president of Westminster Seminary California, and in his inaugural address he told the gathered audience of the seminary’s continued commitment to the Reformed confessions, not merely as historical artifacts and relics of tradition, but as vital and vibrant testimonies of the summarized teachings of Scripture.

Whether in the Shepherd controversy, Evangelicals and Catholics Together, or his role in the formation of the United Reformed Churches of North America, Bob has been a stouthearted defender of the Reformed faith. I am reminded of what King Leonidas and his vastly outnumbered Spartans told King Xerxes at the outset of the Battle of Thermopylae when ordered to surrender their weapons to the Persian armies: molōn labe (“come and take them”). What so many willingly surrender, Bob has firmly held in his grasp and let no one take. But at the same time, he has willingly and freely given away the Reformed faith to anyone who would ask. He has defended the Reformed faith from its critics, detractors, and wandering disciples, and has freely given it away to students and people in the church, to anyone willing to listen throughout his nearly forty-year ministry. Bob has done this because he not only loves the Reformed faith, but also loves Christ’s bride, the church. So I can think of no other person to whom I would rather dedicate this book on the Westminster Standards. Thank you, Bob, for being a defensor fidei reformata, a defender of the Reformed faith.

Abbreviations

§ (pl. §§)section, paragraph, or articleACWAncient Christian WritersANFAnte-Nicene Fathersaphor.aphorismart.articleAnnotationsWestminster divines, Annotations upon All the Books of the Old and New Testament (London: Evan Tyler, 1657)b.bornbap.baptizedBCPBook of Common PrayerBRJBritish Reformed Journalca.circacol(s).column(s)comm.commenting onCNTCCalvin’s New Testament CommentariesCOCalvini OperaCRCorpus ReformatorumCTJCalvin Theological JournalCUPCambridge University Pressd.diedDLGTTRichard A. Muller, Dictionary of Latin and Greek Theological Terms (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1986)DPWDirectory for Public WorshipDutch AnnotationsTheodore Haak, ed., The Dutch Annotations upon the Whole Bible (London: John Rothwell, Joshua Kirton, and Richard Tomlins, 1657)EEBOEarly English Books Onlineepist.epistle, letterEQEvangelical Quarterlyfl.flourishedfol(s).folio(s)HTRHarvard Theological ReviewIAOCimputed active obedience of ChristJEHJournal of Ecclesiastical HistoryLCLarger CatechismLCCLibrary of Christian ClassicsLDLord’s Dayloc.locusLWLuther’s Works, American Edition, ed. Jaroslav Pelikan and Helmut T. Lehmann, 55 vols. (Philadelphia: Muehlenberg and Fortress; St. Louis: Concordia, 1955–1986)MAJTMid-America Journal of TheologyMPmember of ParliamentMPWAChad Van Dixhoorn, ed., Minutes and Papers of the Westminster Assembly, 5 vols. (Oxford: OUP, 2012)MQRMennonite Quarterly ReviewNPNF1Nicene Post-Nicene Fathers, First SeriesNPNF2Nicene Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Seriesobj.objectionOUPOxford University Pressp. (pl. pp.)pagePRDLPost-Reformation Digital Library (www.prdl.org)PRRDRichard A. Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, 4 vols. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2003)rep.replyRPWregulative principle of worshipRTRReformed Theological ReviewSBETScottish Bulletin of Evangelical TheologySCShorter CatechismSCJSixteenth Century Journalserm.sermonsess.sessionSJTScottish Journal of Theologys.v.sub verbo (under the term)vol(s).volume(s)WCFWestminster Confession of FaithWerkeMartin Luther, D. Martin Luthers Werke (Berlin: Weimar, 1883–1929)WJKWestminster John Knox PressWTJWestminster Theological Journal

1

Introduction

The Westminster Standards (1646–1647) are loved by many and employed as the confessional standards by numerous Presbyterian denominations around the world. The Confession and catechisms of the Westminster Assembly have been praised by theologians, both in the seventeenth century and in our own day, as being the high-water mark of Reformed theology in the early modern period (ca. 1500–1800). Given that the Westminster Standards are admired and confessed, it is only natural that over the years theologians would write a number of books that explained the doctrine of the Standards. Such works appeared quite quickly following the creation of the Standards. Most notable, for example, is David Dickson’s (1583–1663) Truths Victory over Error, or Thomas Watson’s (ca. 1620–1686) Body of Divinity, which was a series of sermons upon the Shorter Catechism.1 Other notable works include, but are not limited to, those by Thomas Boston (1676–1732), A. A. Hodge (1823–1886), and Edward Morris (1825–1915).2 Theologians immediately saw a need to explain and comment upon the Confession and catechisms. Other commentaries were written, and the practice continues unabated in our own day, not only with the contribution of new commentaries but also with the republication of older volumes, as well as studies on specific sections of the Standards.3

But characteristic of the older commentaries, in contrast to their contemporary counterparts, is a better connection to the history, events, and theology of the seventeenth century. Dickson was alive during the creation of the Westminster Standards, interacted with theologians who were present, and was one of the theologians who wrote The Summe of Saving Knowledge, which was a summary of the Westminster Standards appended to the documents by the Scottish Kirk. Dickson, by virtue of being alive during the period, was intimately familiar with the context of the Standards. Present-day commentators, on the other hand, stand at a significant disadvantage. Not only are they separated from the assembly by hundreds of years, but also they often have different theological questions pressing them and at times different philosophical assumptions, given that they live after, rather than prior to, the Enlightenment.

For example, one commentary on the Larger Catechism discusses the theology of neoorthodoxy, especially the thought of Karl Barth (1886–1968) and Emil Brunner (1889–1966), in its treatment of the catechism’s doctrine of Scripture.4 As necessary as it is to bring the historic teaching of the Reformed faith to bear upon present-day theological challenges, it is important first to establish historically what the Standards have taught before its theology can be pressed into service. Another challenge to a proper understanding of the Standards is when contemporary historians and commentators read the Standards through the grid of later theological developments.5

Recently promising steps have been made to situate properly the Westminster Standards within the doctrinal and historical context of the seventeenth century.6 However, given the massive amount of primary-source literature and the scope of the Standards, there is much more that can be done to unearth the original context of the assembly. Much of this work has been greatly assisted by the publication of the extant minutes of the assembly, which provide the contemporary reader with a window into the inner workings, debates, and concerns of the assembly.7 But the theology of the Standards does not lie exclusively in the minutes, as important as they are. Rather, the Westminster Assembly was part of a broader ongoing conversation with Patristic, medieval, Reformation, and contemporary seventeenth-century theologians. Anyone who wants to understand the thought and ethos of the Standards must enmesh themselves, as much as possible, in the literature of the period. What theological works, for example, were the Westminster divines reading? What were their theological interests, concerns, fears, and passions? What were the historical events of the day, and how did they shape seventeenth-century English life?

The Importance of the Original Historical Context

It is often said that the three most important rules to purchasing real estate are location, location, location. A similar maxim is true for good historical theology—context, context, context. The best explanations of the doctrine of the Standards must rest upon the testimony of the time.8 Such a contextual reading of the Standards will undoubtedly produce several important results. By enmeshing the Standards in their original context, the reader is forced to look for cognitive dissonances, that is, things that do not quite fit the contemporary way of stating or understanding things. True, many people still profess the Reformed faith as found in the Westminster Standards, but much has changed over the last 350-plus years. Think for a moment about what was happening in our own country twenty-five, fifty, or one hundred years ago; things were quite different. The seventeenth century was a period that was marked, for example, by different general beliefs about the world. The seventeenth century was a period when most Protestant theologians, with little dissenting opinion, believed that the pope was the antichrist; this was a virtually unquestioned fact. It was also a period when people believed in ghosts and spirits. In one such account, the supposed testimony of the ghost of an old woman played a role in the execution of a bishop, John Atherton (1598–1640).9 What has this ghost’s tale to do with the Westminster Standards?

This slice of early modern English history is but one small example of how differently things functioned during the time of the Westminster Assembly. One might certainly debate the existence of ghosts in our own day, but to say with a serious face that a message from a ghost would play a part in the arrest, conviction, and execution of a church official must surely be the stuff of fiction, not history. Yet, this is precisely what happened in the case of Bishop Atherton’s execution.10 When the layers of this bizarre case are pulled away, they reveal that Bishop Atherton was opposed to Laud’s imposition of high-church Arminian and Papist practices upon the Church of England, and that the rumors surrounding Mother Leakey’s ghost, as well as the false charge of buggery, were quite possibly an elaborate conspiracy to discredit and remove Atherton and replace him with a bishop more congenial to Laud’s policies.11 Adding to the complexity of the politics and religion of the time, a number of Presbyterians, including Westminster divine Robert Baillie (1602–1662), saw the conviction of Bishop Atherton as further reason to reject and remove Episcopacy “root and branch,” given its corruption.12 This whole event is but one illustration of the differences between the seventeenth century and the present day.

Theologically speaking, the Standards contain curious turns of phrase, oblique rejections of doctrines without persons or responsible parties named, and peculiar terms—such things that often pass unnoticed by contemporary readers but were well known to theologians of the period. What, for example, does the term general equity mean (19.4) and what is the difference between the moral law as a covenant and as a rule (19.5)? Why does the Confession say that the kingdom of Christ is the visible church (25.2), whereas God, not Christ, is the “Supream Lord and King of all the world” (23.1)? When the Confession states that God has ordained “whatsoever comes to pass,” but at the same time his decree has not taken away “liberty or contingency of second Causes” but rather has established them (3.1), how can the divines affirm both a sovereign decree and contingency? Why do the Standards never employ the word atonement (or its variants) when such a word is commonplace in contemporary Reformed theology, especially with regard to popular terms such as limited atonement? All of these are questions that we need to ask when reading the Standards, and they can only be answered by investigating the Standards in their original context. Early modern Reformed theologians had a slightly different outlook on life and theology than we do today, and despite whatever similarities in doctrine and conviction are shared with theologians in the twenty-first century, the differences can be significant.

Learning to Read a Confession of Faith

A benefit of reading the Standards within their original historical and theological context is that the contemporary reader learns how to read a confession of faith. In the present day those who employ confessions of faith often fail to understand that confessions can be highly nuanced documents. The running joke in Presbyterian circles is, “Put three Presbyterians in one room and you’ll get five different opinions.” This humorous observation is equally true of Reformed theology in the early modern period. Confessions of faith were typically written to define truth and fence off heterodoxy and heresy while allowing a degree of doctrinal latitude within the boundaries of the confession. The Confession, for example, explicitly rejects certain doctrines, such as predestination based upon foreknowledge (3.2), justification based upon the worthiness of one’s faith (11.1), or transubstantiation (29.6). However, the Westminster Confession is equally silent about a number of other teachings, which typically were viewed as issues of doctrinal liberty—issues upon which theologians could disagree but still be within the bounds of confessional orthodoxy. In the debates over God’s decree, for example, and the composition of the Confession’s third chapter, one of the divines, George Gillespie (1613–1648), wanted the assembly to compose certain phrases in such a manner that “every one may injoy his owne sence.”13

In other words, at many points the Confession is very specific in terms of what it rejects or teaches, but at other points it is brilliantly ambiguous or vague, thus allowing various theologians to assent to the document even though it might not advocate each theologian’s precise view on a particular subject. Such deliberate ambiguity or vagueness can only be discovered by reading the Confession and catechisms in tandem with the minutes of the assembly and works of the period. For example, one of the more complex issues in theology, whether in the present day or in the seventeenth century, is the relationship of the Mosaic covenant to the other covenants in Scripture; or alternatively stated, what is the Christian’s relationship to the Mosaic law? Today many might not realize that at least five different views were held by various commissioners to the assembly. The Confession states the basics of what was the most common view, but when it came to its rejection of other views, it singled out only one position, namely, that of Tobias Crisp (1600–1643). Crisp advocated that there were two covenants of grace, something the Confession explicitly rejects (7.6). It is silent with regard to the other views held.

The Methodology of the Present Study

Given the importance of reading the Standards in their original context, in this study I have opted to place emphasis upon primary over secondary sources. There are numerous commentaries on the Standards that make theological and historical judgments about their doctrinal content, but do so devoid of primary-source analysis. Instead, while I have read much secondary-source analysis of the Standards over the years, I have chosen only to employ what is, in my judgment, essential or necessary secondary literature; I have given preference to primary-source literature, or literature that was within a generation or so of the Westminster Assembly. Moreover, I have chosen to use works not of my own liking, but rather those that primary sources have identified as important or noteworthy.

In this respect it is interesting to follow the bread crumb trail that many of the primary sources have left. In our own day many Reformed theologians would never positively cite Patristic, medieval, Lutheran, or pagan sources, but this is precisely what numerous early modern Reformed theologians did. Hence, for many contemporary readers the sources I have chosen to illustrate certain doctrinal points may seem counterintuitive, but for the early modern Reformed theologian they were perfectly natural, desirable, and necessary. Unlike our own day, when Reformed theologians are content to labor for their entire ministries in theologically sectarian-like settings where orthodoxy is measured by a very narrow set of criteria, the Westminster divines had a different index by which they measured orthodoxy. The divines considered themselves reformed Catholics and therefore did not want to isolate themselves from the rest of the church, but saw their broader engagement with other periods of history and other theological traditions as evidence of their catholicity.14

In my effort to return the reader to the seventeenth century, I have chosen to cite an original edition of the Westminster Standards with its archaic spelling and punctuation. This has a number of benefits. First, it causes the contemporary reader to slow down and reread each tenet rather than sailing over familiar words. The archaic spelling, punctuation, and capitalization give the contemporary reader a sense of what it would have been like for a seventeenth-century theologian to sit down and read this document for the first time. Second, contemporary readers might not be aware of this, but the original edition of the Confession and catechisms are different at key places in comparison with modern editions. Scripture proof texts have been changed, and punctuation, at least in one place where it affects the meaning of the statement about the active obedience of Christ, has also been changed. Such changes, while perhaps benefiting the contemporary reader’s ability to move from the present day to the past, cloud the original meaning of the text.

The Plan of the Present Study

In setting forth the plan of this study, I should explain, first, what this study is not. It is not a line-by-line exhaustive commentary on the Standards. Such a work would undoubtedly be massive and encyclopedic. The Standards are exhaustive, and as such a line-by-line approach to them would need to be equally exhaustive. Therefore, I do not treat every single doctrinal issue raised within the Standards. There is still much work to be done in helping us to understand better the theology and history of the Westminster Standards. Nevertheless, I have sought to explore key subjects of the Standards in an illustrative fashion. Each chapter of the Confession, for example, could warrant a book-length study, but in order to keep this book to a manageable size, I have treated what, in my mind, are key elements within the Standards, and have illustrated these points as much as possible from primary sources.

Second, the study begins with an overview of the historical, religious, and political context in which the Westminster Standards originated. Many of the doctrinal assumptions and beliefs are connected to this all-important context. The study then proceeds with Scripture, God and the decree, covenant and creation, the person and work of Christ, justification, sanctification, the law and the Christian life, the church, worship, and eschatology. I do not doubt that some will pick up this book and be disappointed that I have not treated some subjects, such as church polity, divorce, or the Larger Catechism’s exposition of the Decalogue. My hope is that this work will spur others to do historically sensitive studies of these and numerous other subjects that appear within the Standards. In this respect, this study is an introduction to the theology, history, and issues that appear in the Westminster Standards and therefore is not intended to be exhaustive.

Conclusion

The aim of this study is to set the Standards in their original historical setting and explore the world of the seventeenth century. Like a deep-sea diver who plunges into the miry depths and must soon come up to his own world, my hope is that this brief exploration of the marvelous world of seventeenth-century Reformed theology will be interesting, instructive, and edifying for saints living in the twenty-first century and beyond.

______________________________

1 David Dickson, Truths Victory over Error (Edinburgh: John Reed, 1684); Thomas Watson, A Body of Practical Divinity (London: Thomas Parkhurst, 1692).

2 Thomas Boston, Body of Divinity, vols. 1–2 in Complete Works of Thomas Boston (1853; Stoke-on-Trent: Tentmaker, 2002); A. A. Hodge, The Confession of Faith: A Handbook of Christian Doctrine Expounding the Westminster Confession (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1958); Edward D. Morris, Theology of the Westminster Standards: A Commentary Historical, Doctrinal, Practical on the Confession of Faith and Catechisms and the Related Formularies of the Presbyterian Churches (Columbus, OH: n.p., 1900).

3 See, e.g., G. I. Williamson, The Westminster Confession of Faith for Study Classes (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1964); Williamson, The Westminster Shorter Catechism for Study Classes (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2003); Rowland S. Ward, The Westminster Confession of Faith: A Study Guide (Wantirna, Australia: New Melbourne, 1996); John H. Gerstner et al., The Westminster Confession of Faith: A Guide, Commentary (Signal Mountain, TN: Summertown Texts, 1992); Robert Shaw, An Exposition of the Westminster Confession of Faith (Fearn: Christian Focus, 1998); Francis R. Beattie, The Presbyterian Standards (Greenville, SC: Southern Presbyterian Press, 1997); J. Ligon Duncan, ed., The Westminster Confession into the 21st Century, 3 vols. (Fearn: Christian Focus, 2003–2009); R. C. Sproul, Truths We Confess: A Layman’s Guide to the Westminster Confession of Faith, 3 vols. (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2006–2007); Robert Letham, The Westminster Assembly: Reading Its Theology in Historical Context (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2009); Richard A. Muller and Rowland S. Ward, Scripture and Worship: Biblical Interpretation and the Directory for Public Worship (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2007); Johannes G. Vos, The Westminster Larger Catechism: A Commentary, ed. G. I. Williamson (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2002).

4 Vos, Larger Catechism, 443.

5 See, e.g., Ralph Cunnington, “Definitive Sanctification: A Response to John Fesko,” EQ 84, no. 3 (2012): 234–52, esp. 240–45; Williamson, Westminster Confession, 23.

6 See, e.g., Letham, Westminster Assembly, passim; Muller and Ward, Scripture and Worship, passim.

7 Chad Van Dixhoorn, ed., The Minutes and Papers of the Westminster Assembly 1643–62, 5 vols. (Oxford: OUP, 2012). Hereafter abbreviated as MPWA.

8 Quentin Skinner, “Meaning and Understanding in the History of Ideas,” History and Theory 8, no. 1 (1969): 3–53.

9 Peter Marshall, Mother Leakey and the Bishop: A Ghost’s Story (Oxford: OUP, 2007); cf. Nicolas Barnard, The Penitent Death of a Woefull Sinner; or, the Penitent Death of John Atherton, Late Bishop of Waterford in Ireland (London: W. Bladen, 1642).

10 Marshall, Mother Leakey, 116.

11 Ibid., 89–108.

12 Ibid., 104.

13MPWA, sess. 520, October 20, 1645 (3:690).

14 See, e.g., William Perkins, A Reformed Catholike; or, A Declaration Shewing How Neere We May Come to the Present Church of Rome in Sundrie Points of Religion; and Wherein We Must for Ever Depart from Them with an Advertisment to All Favorers of the Romane Religion, Shewing That the Said Religion Is against the Catholike Principles and Grounds of the Catechisme (Cambridge: John Legat, 1598); Anthony Wotton, A Defence of M. Perkins Booke, Called a Reformed Catholike against the Cavils of a Popish Writer (London: Cuthbert Burby, 1606).

2

The Historical and Theological Context

Politics, divorce, adultery, war, espionage, treason, violence, assassination, torture, and the end of the world are ideas seldom associated with the Westminster Standards. But history tells a different story, as such events and activities were part of the world surrounding the creation of the assembly. Such ideas were not only familiar to the assembly but, in many ways, part of its very formation. People in church pews who take up the Confession and begin to read it likely do not realize they are stepping into a period of history when the authors sometimes heard cannon fire in the background as they debated doctrine; they were writing their confession and catechisms in the midst of a civil war. The historical context is vital, therefore, to our having a fuller understanding of the Standards. Another important dimension of the Standards, one that adds significant texture and depth, is recognizing that the divines who wrote these documents were not one-dimensional Calvinists. Often in popular and academic literature authors apply the term Calvinism to the theology of the Standards, which creates the impression that its authors were overly indebted to the theology of John Calvin (1509–1564) or that they somehow departed from the norms that the Genevan Reformer established—in other words, Calvin is the garden of Eden and the Westminster Standards are the fall. The assembly’s own interaction with sources from the period easily demonstrates that such ideas are mythological rather than historical.

Hence, this chapter surveys the antecedent historical and theological context that led to the formation of the assembly and the creation of the Westminster Standards. It first explores politics and religion and the birth of the English Reformation. We then move to the subject of “wars and rumors of wars,” which deals with a number of key conflicts that were shaped and driven by different theologies—Protestantism versus Catholicism. Events such as the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588 and the notorious Gunpowder Plot of 1605 hardly register in the minds of contemporary readers of the Standards, but they were both prominent in the thought of a number of the divines. This chapter will then examine events on the Continent, including the Thirty Years War, which set part of the backdrop for the birth of the civil war between the king and Parliament and the creation of the Westminster Standards. The last two sections briefly explore the immediate theological context of the assembly, the theological chaos of the time, and multiple streams of influence that fed the theological interest and appetite of the assembly’s participants. Given this background the reader will be equipped with key principles that will enable a better understanding of the Westminster Standards.

Politics and Religion

At the regal level the Reformation in England was not initially theologically motivated, as it was on the Continent with Martin Luther’s (1483–1546) initial grievances against the Roman Catholic Church.1 As many know, Henry VIII (1491–1547) challenged Luther’s efforts at reforming the church and was subsequently awarded the title of defensor fide (“defender of the faith”) by the pope.2 However, other things were going on in Henry’s life, particularly the quest for a male heir. Henry’s first wife, Catherine of Aragon (1485–1536), was unable to give Henry a son to succeed him on the throne of England. Henry had married Catherine in 1509, soon after his ascension to the throne, but as early as 1510 he was reported to have been unfaithful to her. However, a young woman by the name of Anne Boleyn (ca. 1501–1536) caught Henry’s eye, but Anne refused to consent to the king’s sexual advances and told him she would settle for nothing less than being his wife. The challenge of a young, ambitious woman contributed to a chain of events that eventually led to Henry’s divorce from Catherine, England’s break from the Roman Catholic Church, and the creation of the Church of England with Henry as its new royal head.3

Henry’s case for his divorce was supported by the likes of Thomas Cranmer (1489–1556), who, among others, was interested in reform and who made the legal and theological case for the legitimacy of the king’s divorce.4 Henry, notorious for his numerous wives in the quest for a male heir, would eventually die, and his son, Edward VI (1537–1553), born by Henry’s third wife, Jane Seymour (ca. 1508–1537), would ascend the throne. Under Edward’s reign the reformation of England flourished. The reformation of the Church of England proceeded far beyond Henry’s nominal reforms, largely owing to the theological advisors that surrounded Edward, who, at the time of ascension, was only nine years old. Under Edward’s reign Continental Reformers such as Martin Bucer (1491–1551) and Peter Martyr Vermigli (1499–1562) were invited to teach at the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. Another Continental Reformer, Johannes à Lasco (1499–1560), a Polish theologian, was given charge over the London’s Strangers’ Church, which was allowed to set up its own form of church discipline and worship. All three theologians, Bucer, Vermigli, and à Lasco, spent a great deal of time with Cranmer in his home, and it was through the influence of these three that Cranmer’s views on the Lord’s Supper shifted and took on a decidedly Reformed cast.5 Another influential Continental theologian who carried on significant epistolary friendships and offered sage counsel to English Reformers was Heinrich Bullinger (1504–1575).6 The capstones to the reforms under Edward’s reign appeared in 1552 and 1553 with the composition and publication of the Book of Common Prayer and the Forty-Two Articles, largely written by Cranmer.7

But during the drama of Henry’s divorce, Mary I (1516–1558), his daughter by Catherine, carefully observed her mother’s mistreatment.8 Mary was naturally against the divorce and was very dedicated to her mother’s Roman Catholic faith. The seeds of resentment sown during the divorce proceedings would later flower in the persecution of Protestants throughout England. In Mary’s mind, Protestants had unjustly treated her mother, and she was determined to restore the Roman Catholic faith to England. Upon Edward’s death, Mary, also known as “Bloody Mary” because of her persecution of Protestants, led England back toward Rome. This return was evidence that though the Church of England was officially Reformed under Edward’s reign, the Reformation had taken hold only among a small segment of the population.

Shortly after Mary’s ascension in 1553, the imperial ambassador from Spain noted how Londoners had obediently taken Easter Communion according to Roman Catholic custom. But among the Protestants, there were many who were resolutely dedicated to the Reformed faith, and more than 280 were martyred, including Cranmer, John Hooper (ca. 1495–1555), Hugh Latimer (ca. 1487–1555), and Nicholas Ridley (ca. 1500–1555).9 In the wake of the Marian persecutions more than eight hundred Englishmen, gentry, ministers, and those preparing for the ministry went into exile in various Reformed European cities, such as Emden, Strasbourg, Zurich, Basel, and other cantons of Switzerland. But when many of these exiles eventually returned to the British Isles, including theologians such as John Knox (ca. 1514–1572), they brought many theological ideas and plans for reformation with them.10 In many respects, Mary’s persecution had the opposite effect upon the English Reformation than she intended—it made it stronger.11

After Mary’s short-lived but nevertheless violent reign, she was succeeded by Elizabeth I (1533–1603). The daughter of Anne Boleyn, Henry’s second wife, Elizabeth was raised in the home of Catherine Parr (1512–1548), Henry’s sixth bride. Catherine Parr was Protestant by conviction, and her influence upon Elizabeth was significant. Moreover, if Elizabeth rejected the Protestant faith, then it would ultimately entail the acknowledgment of the illegitimacy of her parents’ marriage, and hence her claim to the throne would be nullified.12 Under Elizabeth’s reign Reformed theology once again flourished, and more than half of the initial set of Elizabethan bishops came from among those who had sought exile under the Marian persecutions. The first post-Marian archbishop of Canterbury, for example, was Matthew Parker (1504–1575), the executor of Martin Bucer’s will; and his successor, Edmund Grindal (1519–1583), was a pallbearer at Bucer’s funeral. In Elizabeth’s England, John Jewel’s (1522–1571) Apology of the Church of England (1564), the Geneva Bible—which contained theological notes in the margins written by Continental Reformers—and John Foxe’s (1516–1587) Acts and Monuments were all published. These were highly influential and further inculcated a new generation in the Reformed faith. They also steeled the nation’s resolve regarding its chief place in the apocalyptic battle between the church of Christ and the Roman Catholic Church, the antichrist.13

In this history antecedent to the Westminster Assembly two chief things should be noted. First, politics and religion were intertwined. The popular notion that the Reformation was strictly a religious movement, inspired by preaching alone, is closer to mythology than history. As noted earlier, history is typically messy, and such is the case with the English Reformation. While Henry likely pursued reformation for personal benefit and his overactive libido, others such as Cranmer undoubtedly had better motivations. Second, the success and progress of the Reformed faith in the sixteenth century were largely dependent upon the ascension or demise of monarchs. In other words, in England, the Reformation largely flowed from the top to the bottom; it was not a popular democratic movement but rather a movement driven by an oligarchy. This dynamic did not vanish like the morning mist once England crossed the threshold into the seventeenth century. On the contrary, this same relationship between church and state colored the reign of James I of England (1566–1625) and especially that of his son, Charles I of England (1600–1649). The tensions between church and state would eventually give birth both to the Westminster Assembly and to regicide, with the beheading of Charles. More will be said about these events below.

Wars and Rumors of Wars

For contemporary readers of the Westminster Standards, the original historical context is at some distance, not simply in terms of the number of centuries that have passed, but also in terms of the theological culture of early modernity. In the present, people associate religious violence with radicals, extremists, or those religions committed to spreading their beliefs by such means, such as Islam. But in the early modern period, a consequence of the irrefragable bond between politics and religion was that religion and war were also inextricably linked. A microcosm of this reality appears in the life of one of the Reformation’s first-generation leaders, Ulrich Zwingli (1484–1531). In the early days of the Reformation a number of Swiss cities embraced the embryonic reform movement, and Zwingli encouraged them to form a political alliance, the Christian Civic Union (1529). Zwingli’s intent was not only to strengthen the bonds among the various Swiss cantons that had embraced the Reformed faith but also to reach other cities and add them to the alliance to advance the Reformation. A number of Zwingli’s allies warned him about such a move because they feared reprisal by those cities still under Roman Catholic control. Zwingli and the Reformed cities fought a brief war in the summer of 1529, which was followed by the Peace of Kappel; he was somewhat successful and able to expand the influence of the Reformation among other Swiss communities.

Zwingli and the leaders in Zurich became overconfident and overextended themselves by imposing an economic blockade against the Catholic Inner States of Switzerland. In response, the Roman Catholic cantons raised an army and marched on Zurich, routing the Protestant army. Zwingli, wearing a full suit of armor, was with the Protestant army and was killed in battle.14 Some have claimed that he was merely a chaplain who accompanied the army into battle; however, if he were merely a chaplain, then why would he dress in armor, wear a helmet, and carry a sword and a battle axe?15 The tragedy of Zwingli’s death is accented by its brutality. He was hunched over a dying man, consoling him, when a soldier wielding a stone struck him in the head; Zwingli picked himself up off the ground but was hit again multiple times until he was run through with a lance.

After the battle Catholic soldiers scoured the field looking for wounded Protestants, and upon finding them, finished them off. These soldiers eventually stumbled upon Zwingli, “that vile heretic … rascal, that traitor,” under a tree and in the throes of death; they drew a sword and cut his throat. The Catholic soldiers wanted to dismember Zwingli and send pieces of him to each of the five cantons allied with the Reformation. However, some objected, and instead he was tried, he was quartered for treason, and then his body was burned for heresy. When his remains were burned, the ashes of pigs were mixed with Zwingli’s dismembered body and then the mixture was cast into the air by the mob that had gathered to watch the proceedings.16

Was Zwingli a minister or a soldier? Was the Reformation a theological or a political movement? Was the Reformation a theological or a military phenomenon? The answer to these questions is yes. The Reformation was all of these things, and Zwingli’s death is but one example of how interconnected and messy the events of early modernity were. As military strategist Carl von Clausewitz (1780–1831) has argued, stripped to its essence, war is simply the exercise of force in order to bring about a political goal—it is merely the implementation of political policy.17 In this case, given the symbiotic relationship between church and state, war was a natural instrument for advancing or defending theological causes. And this principle generally colored Protestant and Roman Catholic interaction during early modernity. As has been noted above, under the Marian persecutions nearly three hundred martyrs died for their faith. However, this is not to say that Protestants were innocent of bloodshed. Roman Catholics suffered under Protestant rule, which was an accelerant to the already burning fires of conflict between the two parties.

The animus between the Reformed and Roman Catholics was fueled by regular armed conflict, such as the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre (1572). Tensions between the Reformed and Roman Catholics were running high in France. Over the years the Reformed faith had spread quickly; between 1555 and 1570 approximately 1,240 churches were planted in France, and about 10 percent of the French population vowed its allegiance to the Reformed faith.18 With the untimely death of the French king Henry II (1519–1559), power passed to his widow, Catherine de’ Medici (1519–1589). Political unrest marked Catherine’s reign, and, coupled with religious strife between the Reformed and Roman Catholics, a number of brief wars broke out.

The first war, occurring between 1562 and 1563, was instigated by the massacre of unarmed Huguenots, adherents to the Reformed faith. An attempt by Protestants in 1567–1568 to seize power failed, leading to another conflict between Huguenots and Roman Catholics, in which the Huguenots were unsuccessful. Catherine and her son, Charles IX (1550–1574), who had ascended the throne at age ten, were convinced that one way to end the strife was to carry out a series of assassinations against Huguenot leaders. At 4:00 a.m. on Sunday, August 23, 1572, Roman Catholics in and around Paris began breaking into Huguenot homes and killing anyone found inside. The massacre went on for two days, and at least three thousand were killed in Paris; approximately another three thousand were killed in the surrounding provinces in the following weeks. The St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre, the Marian persecution of Protestants in England, and the Spanish Inquisition (1480–1834) would be recalled, recounted, and seared into the collective memories of Protestants across Europe for generations to come and, as such, set the broader context for Reformed–Roman Catholic conflict in England, which played a part in creating the Westminster Assembly.19

Collective memories are much shorter in the contemporary period than they were in early modernity. For many today the Second World War (1939–1945) or even the terrorist attacks on the United States of September 11, 2001, are but a distant memory. But such amnesia was not the case for the English Reformed. In a sermon preached on July 18, 1644, before both houses of Parliament, Scottish divine Alexander Henderson (ca. 1583–1646) invoked the “deliverances from the Armada” and “the powder treason” to remind his audience of how God had delivered England from the machinations of their Roman Catholic foes.20 Henderson was referring to England’s victory over the Spanish Armada in 1588 and the infamous Gunpowder Plot of 1605, events that were fifty-six and thirty-nine years before but, in the minds of many, ever-present realities and reminders of the continuing threat of Romanism and the need for Reformation in England. Remember: theology, politics, war, and matters of national security were inseparably entangled.

The conflict between Spain, a Roman Catholic nation, and England, a Protestant nation under Queen Elizabeth, was ultimately rooted in King Henry’s convoluted line of successors to his throne. Under Mary’s rule, Spain and England had good relations, given her commitment to Roman Catholicism, her persecution of Protestants, and the Spanish blood that coursed through her veins. As mentioned above, Mary’s mother was Catherine of Aragon, the daughter of King Ferdinand II (1452–1516) and Queen Isabella of Spain (1451–1504), who was famous for underwriting Christopher Columbus’s journey to the new world. When Mary died and Elizabeth ascended the throne, many in England were eager to roll back the influence of Catholicism as well as curtail Spanish political power and influence on English soil.

Elizabeth diligently balked at the marital advances of King Philip II of Spain (1527–1598) when he suggested that Elizabeth replace her half-sister in his marriage bed; he had been married to “bloody” Mary in an attempt to solidify the political and theological alliance between England and Spain. But it soon became evident that Elizabeth had no intention of marrying Philip, and so she came to represent everything that he detested—a Protestant bastard queen who was repressing Roman Catholics under her rule, encouraging piracy against Spanish shipping, and assisting Protestant rebels against Philip’s war in the Netherlands.21

By contrast, Philip represented everything that English Protestants feared and loathed. He was waging war against the Reformed faith throughout Europe, oppressing the Reformed in the Netherlands, sowing seeds of treason through espionage and subterfuge in England, and sponsoring Irish Roman Catholics to rebel against Elizabeth’s authority. Moreover, Spain was but a short distance from England and was an ideal location from which to launch an invasion of the Protestant island. All signs pointed to war, and the respective monarchs each carried a theological banner, the Reformed or Roman Catholic faith. Elizabeth was also without an heir, and her nearest relative was Mary Queen of Scots (1542–1587), who also happened to be a devoted Roman Catholic. Under the right circumstances, Spain might be able to invade England, remove or kill Elizabeth, and place Mary Queen of Scots upon the throne. More gasoline was poured onto the fires of brewing conflict when Elizabeth pursued a failed attempt to bring Mary to trial and when Pope Pius V (1504–1572) issued the papal bull Regnans in Excelsis (1570), which declared that Elizabeth was deposed and excommunicated, and that her subjects were no longer bound to their vows of loyalty. Various plots were also hatched to assassinate Elizabeth, some of which were reported to involve Mary Queen of Scots. Elizabeth eventually caved in to the pressure from her advisors and signed Mary’s execution order. Mary’s execution then gave Philip of Spain warrant to invade England.22

At this point in history, the greatest naval power in the world was Spain.23 The Spanish fleet consisted of roughly 130 ships, 7,000 sailors, and 17,000 soldiers for the invasion of England. In addition to this the fleet was supposed to pick up another 17,000 soldiers from the Netherlands to join the invasion force. Yet this enormous strength and superiority was put under the command of the Duke of Medina-Sidonia, Alonso Pérez de Guzmán (1550–1615), who was selected not because of his naval prowess but because of his pedigree. Indeed the duke knew very little about naval combat. Another problem for the Spanish fleet was that it was more like a convoy of vessels than an effective combat unit. The duke brought these shortcomings to the attention of the king, but Philip was confident that he was God’s instrument to punish England for its heresy and restore the one true faith to its shores; in fact, Philip received a papal blessing from Sixtus V (1521–1590), which in his mind all but guaranteed a Spanish victory.24 As can be imagined, the English were just as certain that God would grant them victory.

Philip had planned for the Spanish fleet, after an initial skirmish, to harbor in the Dutch port of Flushing to pick up additional soldiers for the invasion, but Dutch Protestant forces captured the port, thus forcing Philip to harbor in Calais, France. The English navy located the fleet at Calais, sent fire ships—older vessels loaded with flammable materials and set ablaze—and flushed out the Spanish fleet where it was, cutting it to pieces by superior English naval gunfire. The Spanish fleet retreated and sailed north to Scotland with plans to sail around it and down the western coast of Ireland, but along the way the fleet ran into a violent storm, called the “Protestant wind,” which battered and destroyed much of the armada. In the end, half of the 130 ships were sunk, and between 5,000 and 15,000 Spanish sailors and soldiers perished. Naturally, this event was interpreted as a vindication of the Reformed cause, and in terms of the grand narrative set forth by Foxe in his Acts and Monuments, England was an elect nation chosen by God and was engaged in a battle of apocalyptic proportions against the pope, the antichrist.25 But just because England won the battle, that did not mean the war was over.

On the heels of Elizabeth’s death Roman Catholics once again saw a window of opportunity to install a monarch who would return the nation to the one true faith. At the time, many Catholics believed that the martyrdom of Mary Queen of Scots acquired merits that would win them the grace of God and the conversion of the new king, James I, to Catholicism.26 Roman Catholics desired this theological change because they had suffered under Elizabeth’s rule. If Catholic priests were discovered performing the mass or in possession of vestments, they were typically thrown in prison, or even executed for treason. Such executions, however, were long, tortuous affairs. Priests convicted of treason were hung and drawn, and while they were still alive, were disemboweled, were emasculated, had their hearts cut out, and then were quartered.27 Treason might seem like a strange crime for a priest, but in this context, and especially given the ongoing conflict between England and Spain and the failed invasion, priests were suspected of being foreign spies. These spies reported either to the pope, who had encouraged sedition against Elizabeth through his papal bull, or to the likes of the king of Spain.28 By the time James ascended the throne in 1603, three women and fifty-eight men had been put to death under Elizabeth’s reign.29

Eager to restore Roman Catholicism to England, Guy Fawkes (1570–1606), a native of England who fought with Spanish forces in the Netherlands in an effort to raise sympathy and military support for English Roman Catholics, took matters into his own hands when it became clear that Spain would not act to invade England or assassinate King James.30 Fawkes and other conspirators devised a plot to blow up Parliament in its opening session. This would eliminate not only England’s ruling body but also its monarch, King James, and would then clear the way to install a Roman Catholic monarch on England’s throne. Fawkes and twelve others planned their assassination and moved thirty-six barrels of gunpowder into the “cellar” of Westminster. Estimated at between one and five tons of explosives, such a quantity would have literally blown the roof off Westminster.31 Someone loosely associated with the conspiracy had a twinge of conscience and wrote an anonymous letter to the authorities alerting them to the plot. In the wee hours of November 5, Fawkes was discovered lurking about Westminster’s cellar, guarding the explosives. He was arrested and then interrogated.32