Today’s blog is the second in a four-part series, looking at some basic ideas and themes in the work of John Calvin –“Putting the ‘Calvin’ Back in Calvinism.”

One of my broad motivations for diving into various aspects of Calvin’s theology is the hope that doing so will demonstrate ways in which the Reformed tradition can help us navigate our Reformed identities and theologies today.

Last week we explored Calvin’s ideas regarding the body and the soul. I attempted to show that Calvin wanted to balance a recognition that the body and all physical things are created good and worthy of praise. However, ultimately, the soul and the spiritual are distinct from the physical and, in some ways, superior to them. The distinction between body and soul might not be much in vogue in theology today, but it is a major part of the Christian tradition and Calvin’s theology. 

This emphasis on the spiritual nature of humanity and reality also influences how Calvin thinks about the work of Christ for us, the topic to explore today. Not surprisingly, Calvin picks up on the ancient theological schema of the three-fold office of Christ. That is, Jesus fulfills the offices of prophet, priest, and king. Our focus here will be on Calvin’s reflections on Jesus as king as discussed in the Institutes (II.15.3-5). 

Calvin is clear that Jesus’ kingship is a spiritual one. It’s Calvin’s first point and one he refers back to repetitively: “I come to the Kingly office, of which it were in vain to speak, without previously reminding the reader that its nature is spiritual.” Maybe this sounds frighteningly like last week’s discussion and, like me, you are concerned that Calvin’s emphasis on the spiritual kingship is going to leave this world dangerously neglected. Nonetheless, Calvin sees substantial implications for the Christian life here-and-now. We can focus on three.

First, Christ’s spiritual kingship is applied communally to the Church. Jesus is the “eternal governor and defender of the Church.” Calvin draws on the eternity of Jesus’ kingship, noting that the perpetual preservation of the Church is effectually secured as a result. Calvin ties this to the Old Testament, where promises of a never-ending kingship were given but only find their fulfillment in Jesus Christ.

In his resurrection, Calvin argues, Jesus has secured the eternal kingdom that is safe from all enemies and attacks. I find that deeply reassuring, particularly when the Church’s witness seems to be dwindling and its fate anything but secure. How could Reformed churches today be different if we operated not from fear but from the assurance that Jesus (not we ourselves) is the defender of his Church?

If we consider Calvin’s ideas about attacks on the Church for today, I am not entirely sure how one would go about gauging the relative health and strength of the Church as a whole. Does the remarkable growth in Africa counterbalance the discouraging stagnancy in Europe, for example? Would a someday opening to the ordination of women or those in same-sex relationships in the Catholic Church be a sign of the Church’s vitality or decline, for example? Surely, what constitutes an “attack” on the Church is somewhat subjective.

Regardless, what Calvin’s understanding of Christ as king highlights is that nothing can destroy the Church. Whatever it is that seems to you or me to threaten the Church—declining attendance, theological liberalism or conservatism, corruption and abuse, or whatever else—nothing can overcome Christ’s rule of his Church. Nothing can overcome the reign of Christ for his people because the Church is “founded on the eternal throne of Christ.” Thanks be to God.

Second, Christ’s kingship is meant to apply to Christians as individuals. Calvin’s focus is again on eternal life. Our eternal life is secure because it is guaranteed in Christ’s spiritual kingdom. For Calvin, this means that all the difficulties of this world can be reframed in light of the secure promise of eternal life. We should not expect Christ’s kingship to yield “external advantages, such as a joyful and tranquil life, abounding in wealth, being secure against all injury, and having an affluence of delights.” Certainly, Calvin was aware of the difficulties of the present life. He lived his life in Geneva as a refugee from France, endured the death of a child and wife, and continually battled physical illness.

The promise of Christ’s kingdom is that the suffering of this life will be superseded by the blessedness of eternal life with God. Even in modern life where advances in physical health, ease, and comfort are remarkable, who among us is a stranger to the suffering of this world? The levels of suffering around the world—take your pick from Ukraine or Gaza or wherever else—are staggering enough. But, each of us has our own sufferings. Cancer in our bodies or dementia in the minds of those we love. Lost jobs or broken marriages or children wandering from the faith can cause anxious, sleepless nights. In the face of all such suffering, Calvin reminds us that Christ’s promise of a restored, renewed, and eternal life with God is sure. Thanks be to God.

Finally, in a beautifully Trinitarian approach, Calvin ties the kingship of Christ to the ministry of the Holy Spirit. The Father has given the Spirit to the Son without measure, and the Spirit has, in turn, been given to us so that all the fullness of Christ’s grace becomes ours. Calvin explains that the Father has given all power to the Son so that he governs, cherishes, and sustains us in all grace, and all the Son’s work on our behalf becomes ours through his administration of the Spirit.

Christ as king brings us into full communion with God. Indeed, Calvin says, in drawing near to us in the Incarnation, Jesus unites the offices of King and Pastor because his kingship is for our own care and benefit. Christ reigns for us so that our lives with God are secured now and forever. Thanks be to God.