John Calvin, Father of Reformed Theology and modern day Presbyterianism, did not hesitate to call people stupid. Nowadays, a kid can get kicked out of Kindergarten for calling a classmate stupid or ignorant, and to some extent I see the purpose in doing that. But in the world of adult ideas, perhaps there are times to commit to the less eloquent language of a passionate argument even at the risk of causing offense. For Calvin, to not believe in God is just plain stupid. He says, and I quote, “Yet there is,…no nation so barbarous, no people so savage, that they have not a deep-seated conviction that there is a God.” (Institutes, p.44) He also believed it “vain” to think that religion was “invented by the subtlety and craft of a few to hold the simple folk in thrall by this device.” Even idolatry, he thought, pointed toward a sense of deity inscribed in the hearts of all. So, some people chose to worship rocks or sticks! For Calvin, this only goes to show an inherent impulse to acknowledge the Divine. So given the latest atheist apologetics that appear on the bestseller list, one may wonder, what exactly convinced Calvin that people who don’t believe in God are stupid? The created world of course! The Creation, Calvin thought, spoke such volumes about the Creator, that no human being could possibly make a sufficient case for not believing in God.

Subtlety was not Calvin’s strength. One might think that if he were that smart his insults would appear far later in his voluminous Institutes of the Christian Religion, but no. His work begins with a Prefatory Address to King Francis and the people of France telling them that although this book has been written for them, there may be no place suitable in the French realm for sound doctrine of this sort. This ain’t no “how to win friends and influence people” kind of message. He starts off by insulting the French. I ask you, where can you possible go after that? Well, after a few beautiful opening sentences about wisdom and knowledge, it’s on to human ignorance, vanity, poverty, infirmity, depravity, and corruption. Is it any wonder that picking up Calvin for a casual read can quickly end up in frustration?

Well, amidst the insults and repeated observations about human ignorance, actually some good theology peeks through. I actually like picturing Calvin as the old curmudgeon he probably was, because even in the drama of his pessimistic overtones, he can’t help himself but to praise God to the highest heavens. And in those beginning chapters, it’s all because of the glory of creation. He hasn’t even begun to speak about Jesus yet. That’ll come later. Even ignorant heathens, Calvin thought, can appreciate the exquisite beauty of the stars and the heavens. Even an idiot can observe the intricacies of the human body and have to judge God, rightly, as a wonder-worker. (Institutes, p.54)

I suspect that most of us would hesitate to use Calvin’s exact argument with our friends who are inclined to question the existence of God. Calling someone stupid is probably not the best way to go, particularly if they happen to be French. However, I believe that Calvin makes a crucial observation about human nature that is being tested and observed even now, and that is recognizing the awe and wonder we experience when we contemplate the majesty of this world in which we live. He rightly points out that it is not helpful to confuse the Creation with the Creator, and yet he makes the case that God absolutely reveals Godself through the majesty and artistry of the universe. Though his scientific understanding was limited by when and where he lived, he understood that knowledge of God could come from gaining more knowledge about ourselves and our world.

Poor Calvin said so much that his words get twisted every which way to justify almost any theological perception. But the beauty is that, like the apostle Paul, he was also aware of what he didn’t know. These first few chapters about God the Creator show that he was comfortable with the mystery of God. Not everything had to be explained or justified. Sometimes it is just about being still, being awestruck, and being content with our smallness in a very large, sometimes very scary world.

Consider Psalm 19: “God’s glory is on tour in the skies, God-craft on exhibit across the horizon. Madame Day holds classes every morning, Professor Night lectures each evening. Their words aren’t heard, their voices aren’t recorded, but their silence fills the earth: unspoken truth is spoken everywhere.” Oftentimes we think of God’s Law and the Laws of Nature as two very separate and distinct things. In fact we are encouraged to deepen the divide between what religion knows as truth and what science or nature knows as truth. But I think they are far more complementary than we often realize. Whereas other theologians start with Jesus, Calvin started in amazement at the world in which we live. I think it’s a pretty good place to start. Now, he gets to Jesus, and the grace we know because of Jesus is yet another incredibly important theme in his theological writing. But if I remember correctly, and this is testing my memory a bit here, Calvin spoke of knowledge coming through three testaments, not just two. The Old Testament teaches us the law and the right ways of living; the New Testament reveals to us God’s grace and love through Jesus Christ, and the testament of Creation imparts to us its very own knowledge about the glory of our Creator. I like this model so much that I’ve committed it to memory whether it is actually Calvin’s or not.

I know that there is not now, nor may there ever be, agreement on what constitutes true revelation about the Divine. Some will tell you that scripture alone can teach us about God. Others include the church’s teachings, or experience, or the created world. For me, the vehicle is not important. An experience of God revealed is powerful and life-altering. Whether it’s the People of Israel weeping as the law is read to them, or the disciples’ amazement as Jesus broke bread in the Upper Room, or a monk meditating on the beauty of a flower – that God moment is something inherent and real. We yearn for it. We pray for it. We sometimes even covet the experience of others who seem to live in it. Ultimately, our experience will be the judge. One can’t argue whether I’ve experienced a connection to the Deity or not because it’s in my own experience, not anyone else’s. That’s a different question from trying to figure out or argue if God exists – an often fruitless argument.

But today we study prayer and the religious experiences of the pious few – thinking that those people perhaps know some secret knowledge about accessing God that we don’t know. Calvin would tell us, “Don’t be stupid.” Reasons to believe are out there all around us every day. There is no one so far removed from God as to not have some heart-knowledge about what is holy. How faiths, and churches, and individuals define this revelation of God’s being may be different, but that doesn’t have to lead to divisions among us. I wonder what might happen if we actually understood that, Christian, Jew, Buddhist or Muslim, Presbyterian, Pentecostal, or Baptist, or no religious affiliation whatsoever, the impulse to know God is the same. Calvin believed it to be universal.

I may never leave volumes of my personal theological observations behind in a Calvin-like legacy, and perhaps that’s a good thing. But I do hope to follow in his footsteps – both in his unswerving passion for knowing God, and his ability to cast a broad net for how humans both seek and discover that knowledge.

Amen.