
But isn’t the standard Protestant syllogism you mention also upheld by Calvinists? I still don’f understand how Calvinist assurance is “faith in faith” while Lutheran assurance is not? Isn’t Lutheran assurance dependant on believing that you have true faith? How does a Lutheran know they have genuine faith?
God Bless,
Michael
Yes, the standard Protestant syllogism would apply to Calvinists. For Lutherans, the syllogism would be:
Major premise: Christ told me, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.”
Minor premise: Christ never lies but only tells the truth.
Conclusion: I am baptized (i.e., I have new life in Christ).
The major premise here is based on a Scriptural promise (Matt. 28:19) but is also a sacramental word, spoken at a particular time and place under very particular sacramental circumstances. This makes it profoundly different from the standard Protestant understanding of the Gospel promise, a difference that is subtle but makes a huge logical difference in the outcome. Note the crucial but familiar point that it is Christ who speaks the baptismal formula through the mouth of the pastor, so that this is nothing less than the word of Christ spoken to me in particular. What I want to dwell on is how we get to this “me in particular”—what Luther calls the
pro me of the Gospel. I suggest that what makes this possible is that this sacramental word of Christ is an external word in a deeper sense than the major premise of the standard Protestant promise. For it is tied to *external *circumstances, a particular place and time of utterance (e.g., the baptism of baby Martin in Eisleben in 1483, or my baptism in Brooklyn, New York in 1977, and so on) in such a way that the word “you” it contains means me.
Logically, it’s not a conditional statement. It lays down no conditions about what I must do or decide or even believe in order to make sure the promise applies to me. The promise applies to me because it says so: Christ says “you” and he means
me. So the promise of the Gospel, on Luther’s reckoning, is inherently, unconditionally, for me. Faith does not make it so but merely recognizes that it is so, a recognition that happens because we dare not call Christ a liar when he tells us, on that one momentous occasion, “I baptize
you…” That is why the minor premise is not about my faith but about the truth of Christ. This is absolutely essential; God is true, faith acknowledges God’s truth, and unbelief calls God a liar.
Now to say that God speaks the truth is, of course, to make a kind of profession of faith, but not in the Calvinist mode, because it is not reflective. We’re not required to talk about our faith, to know we have faith, to profess, “I believe.” We are required, of course, to believe. We must believe that what God says is true, and we must stop calling God a liar (and furthermore, not incidentally, we must believe that Christ who makes the promise is God). But that, of course, is what faith essentially does: it believes in the truth of the Word of Christ. The problem with reflective faith is that it must do more: if reflective faith is required, then believing in God’s Word is not quite enough, because we must also believe that we believe.