Twins, not Rivals: Regeneration and Effective Calling in the Ordo Salutis

Part 1: With and Through the Word: Rethinking Regeneration and Effectual Calling in the Reformed Ordo Salutis

In the introduction of his volume on the Puritans, The Quest for Godliness, J. I. Packer observes the natural connection that exists between theology and practical living. Since theology is never neutral but always has an effect—good or bad, positive or negative—it is the responsibility of theologians to consider their work and the kind of influence it will have. And this warning goes for professional and lay theologians alike. Packer writes, “So one who theologises in public, whether formally in the pulpit, the podium or in print, or informally in the armchair, must think hard about the effect his thoughts will have on people—God’s people and other people.”¹

This multi-part essay is one attempt to take account of a particular doctrine—the ordo salutis (“the order of salvation”)—and the effect a Reformed articulation of this doctrine has had on both our theology and praxis.

Specifically, the argument of this two-part article is that effectual calling and regeneration should be understood as twin realities in the Reformed articulation of the ordo salutis, not as two separate theological entities. The distinction that was established between these two facets of the ordo, it will be demonstrated, came as a result of Reformed theology’s insistence on the sovereignty of God’s grace in applying salvation to individuals. Nevertheless, the division of these two essential components of the Reformed ordo, it will be argued, was unwarranted, and brought about an undesirable separation between the Spirit of God and the Word of God in the application of salvation to the individual. Understanding effectual calling and regeneration as identical works of God helps maintain a strong connection between the Word and Spirit in the application of salvation, while also preserving a robust, Reformed doctrine of divine sovereignty.  

Upholding a sturdy connection between the Word and Spirit in the application of salvation to the individual is also pastorally beneficial: It helps retain a Christ-centered formulation of the ordo which in turn guards believers from subjectivity, introspection, and hyper-Calvinism.

A Brief History of the Ordo Salutis

Detailed study and articulation of the ordo salutis did not occupy theologians until the latter half of the 16th century, as questions concerning the application of Christ’s work to the individual believer became more prominent within the Church and demanded specialized answers. Prior to the Middle Ages, church theologians, immediately following the apostolic period and during the patristic era, worked to solidify foundational issues related to theology proper and Christology, then turning to matters related to the atonement prior to and at the turn of the millennium.²

It was not until the Middle Ages and during the time of the Reformation that careful attention was given to other important matters of soteriology.³

What impelled Reformed theologians in their development of a more detailed description of the ordo salutis was the conviction that Paul and the other New Testament writers taught that,

“Behind the sinner’s faith in Christ, as well as behind every other spiritual grace he exercises, stands the salvific activity of the Triune God.”⁴

Robert Reymond continues,

In other words, they teach (1) that “salvation is of the Lord,” not only at the point of accomplishment but also at the point of application. Furthermore, they make it clear (2) that the divine application of salvation is not “one simple and indivisible act” but rather comprises a “series of acts and processes.”  Finally, they make it equally clear (3) that this “series of acts and processes” follows a very definite order, leading Reformed theologians to conclude that they may speak of this series as the “order of salvation” (ordo salutis).⁵

Questions related to justification, how the work of the Spirit interacted with the Church’s sacraments, and the doctrine of assurance came to the fore as debates ignited between the Roman Catholic Church and those who began to mistrust the Church’s long-standing teaching on such matters. Indeed, it was the very question of justification that led to the Protestant Reformation.⁶

Sinclair Ferguson explains,

Medieval theology was largely committed to a process of justification, and therefore placed great weight on the mode of preparation for grace. In the process of prevenient grace moving the will to hate sin and desire justice or justification (justitia), the individual was disposed to receive habitual grace. Imperfect sorrow for sin (attritio), which lacked the qualities of perfected grief (contritio), was compensated for by means of the sacrament of penance. No longer a once-in-a-lifetime rite providing the opportunity to return to the grace of baptism, penance thus became a regular feature in the ongoing process towards justitia. At root of this lay the Augustinian notion that justification meant to be made righteous (justum facere), not (as in the biblical theology of the Reformation) to be declared, or counted, or constituted righteous in God’s sight.⁷

Thus, much of the Reformation would lay special emphasis on the reversal of the medieval ordo salutis, arguing that justification must be logically prior to sanctification and not confused with it. Speaking of Martin Luther, Ferguson continues, “He now saw that Paul spoke not about his working for the attainment of righteousness, but about God’s provision of it in the gospel. A powerful rethinking took place in his understanding of the ordo salutis, and the text that he had misinterpreted by means of his Roman ordo salutis now instead became the open gate to Paradise.”⁸

John Calvin, also guided by this new understanding of justification, sought to frame the biblical doctrines of salvation in a way the highlighted the necessity of the joint work of the Word and Spirit in applying the blessings of Christ’s work to the individual instead of attributing those blessings to the sacraments of the Church. Ferguson elaborates,

In the medieval church, the sacraments acted as milestones on the road to justification. Wherever Tridentine Catholicism held sway, all the blessings of union with Christ were attributed to and mediated through instrumental causation of the sacramental system, and especially the mass and Eucharist.  By contrast, in the Reformation teaching it was emphasized that the Holy Spirit brought the individual directly into fellowship with Christ, of which fellowship and sacraments were seen as signs and seals.⁹

Consequently, the question of how the Spirit applied the benefits of Christ’s work of redemption became an issue of serious importance during and immediately following the initial stirrings of the Reformation. As Reformation theology grew and matured from Luther to Calvin to those who would later take up their mantel, articulation of the order of salvation would be enlarged to include other important details.

Herman Bavinck explains, “Initially, Reformed theology usually treated the order of salvation under three headings: repentance, faith, and good works. But soon it saw itself compelled to expand this series and subsequently included a variety of topics: the call, illumination, regeneration, conversion, faith, justification, sanctification, and so on.”¹⁰

Thus, expansions were made in the Reformed articulation of the ordo in order to retain a robust view of God’s sovereign activity in salvation while remaining faithful to the biblical model that presented the application of salvation coming to individuals in a particular order. Significant development in the ordo following the Reformation would occur in the early 1600s.

William Perkins, a Puritan working in and writing from Cambridge, England,¹¹ would formulate his understanding of the ordo based primarily on Romans 8:28-30 from which he would note the sequential ordering of the application of salvation to individuals in verse 30: “And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.” Although controversy would later swell over questions, for example, of logical priority between regeneration and faith, Perkins’s “Golden Chain” would provide the context for such discussions for many centuries following.¹²

From within the Reformed tradition, then, began to emerge careful theological expression of God’s pattern in applying the benefits of Christ’s work of salvation to individuals.  Traditionally, the Reformed¹³ ordo has been understood as follows: (1) effectual calling; (2) regeneration, which gives rise to (3) faith, leading to (4) justification, and (5) sanctification, finally culminating in (6) glorification.¹⁴

In view of this formulation of the Reformed ordo, two things should be noted. First, it has been often observed that the distinction among these different facets of salvation are logical rather than chronological.¹⁵

Second, some theologians, as we will note a little later, take regeneration to occur prior to the effectual call.  The argument of this paper deals not so much with whether or not regeneration should come prior the effectual call, but whether a distinction should be made between these two components of the ordo at all.  

Nevertheless, there is, according to Ferguson, inherent danger in describing God’s application of salvation to the individual in such a strict, linear pattern like the one described above. The most significant problem is the potential to describe the application of salvation to the individual apart from Christ. While Perkins did not attempt to drive a thick chronological wedge between each feature of the ordo, there was an idea of causal order within his model: a previous aspect of the ordo (e.g. calling) giving rise to the next (e.g. justification) and so on.

As Reformed theology developed, the notion of cause and effect between each step in the ordo became even more pronounced.¹⁶

Ferguson, however, sees trouble in this development.  He writes,

When expressed in terms of the model of chain of causes and effects, the traditional ordo salutis runs the danger of displacing Christ from the central place in soteriology.  The fruits of his work may be related to one another in the chain of cause-and-effect sequence, rather than viewed fundamentally in relation to the work of the Spirit in bringing us into union and communion with Christ himself.¹⁷

Ferguson’s solution to the possible hazard of divorcing Christ from the application of salvation to the individual is not to dismantle the ordo, casting it aside as some overly speculative, logically driven theological construction from the distant past.  Instead, Ferguson suggests, drawing from Calvin, that union with Christ should be the framework within which we must formulate and understand the ministry of the Spirit to the individual believer.¹⁸

Ferguson observes two primary advantages in this move.  First, as we have already noted, Christ remains at the heart of our theology.  More specifically, it implies that we “cannot think of, or enjoy, the blessings of the gospel either isolated from each other or separated from the Benefactor himself.  This promotes a healthy Christ-centeredness in Christians living, and also safeguards evangelical teaching from the flaw of isolating the effects of the gospel from faith in Christ himself as both Savior and Lord.”¹⁹

Secondly, maintaining union and communion with Christ as the goal and center of the Spirit’s ministry protects individuals from an “unhealthy and unbalanced subjectivism in Christian experience.”²⁰

Ferguson wisely observes,

It was never a logically necessary implication of the Parkinsian model that it would produce unhealthy and anxious introspection.  Yet, when severed from Perkins’ robust Christocentricity, it could and sometimes did lead to the development of an unhealthy subjectivism in which the location of present experience on the chain of salvation replaced Jesus Christ himself as the focus of attention and faith.²¹

Thus, keeping Christ central in the whole discussion of the Spirit’s application of salvation shields the individual from turning into himself to find assurance of the Spirit’s work and, instead, turns the believer to Christ and the Word to find and enjoy assurance.  We will explore these important pastoral implications a little later.  

Before we do, however, we need to examine how a specific feature within the Reformed ordo might be improved in order to bolster this Christ-centered approach to understanding the Spirit’s work in applying salvation to individuals.   

A New Inner-Principle: Made Between Effectual Calling and Regeneration

As a Reformed articulation of the ordo continued to develop and receive added nuance, it was necessary to maintain a robust affirmation of the sovereignty of God in the work of salvation and its application to the individual. This emphasis on sovereign grace was necessary since Reformed theology also affirmed the doctrine of total depravity—the belief that man cannot, in and of himself, bring himself to embrace God’s salvation since he exists in a state of spiritual death.  

Thus, most Reformed theologians, at the time Louis Berkhof penned his Systematic Theology in the early 1900s, “beg[an] the ordo salutis with regeneration or with calling [thus emphasizing] the fact that the application of the redeeming work of Christ in its incipiency a work of God.”²²

It was also essential to stress the monergistic nature of salvation because other Protestants (Arminians, namely) were positing that regeneration be viewed synergistically—coming as a process of divine-human cooperation—rather than wholly a work of God.

Accordingly, no unanimity existed among Protestant theologians as to the exact way the ordo should be expressed.  Michael Horton explains,

The formulation of the ordo salutis was to a large extent provoked by challenges, from Rome but also especially from other Protestants. Where the principal concerns (sola gratia, sola fide, monergism) were considered sufficiently looked after, the rest of the issues related to the ordo were left somewhat fluid. . . . In fact, a century ago Bavinck could summarize the Reformed view in a way that places regeneration after imputation and the gift of the Spirit.  This is hardly a unanimous position . . .²³

Charles Hodge

Charles Hodge, writing in the mid-1800s, noted significant ambiguity even within major Protestant confessions when it came to important features of the ordo. Commenting on the Apology for the Augsburg Confession, Hodge observed that, “regeneration [in the confession] is made to include justification. That is, it is made to include the whole process by which the sinner is transferred from a state of sin and condemnation into a state of salvation.”²⁴

Although, as Horton notes, Hodge exhorted his readers to guard themselves from speculation on the exact mechanics of the new birth since its “metaphysical nature is left a mystery,” and it is “not the province of either philosophy or theology to solve that mystery,” errors, according to Horton, “still needed to be confronted.”²⁵

Thus, in seeking to avoid both Manichean dualism on the one hand, and synergism on the other, Hodge asserted that,

This regeneration is physical rather than moral in nature, which simply meant that it was not something that was offered or presented to the will and understanding, but an effectual operation upon both that immediately imparted a new disposition or habitus . . .The point was to say that in regeneration the Spirit actually changes one’s disposition, so that the preaching of the gospel will be received rather than resisted.²⁶

In answering the claims of contemporary preachers like Charles Finney and Nathaniel Taylor—men who reminded their listeners of the responsibility to convert themselves²⁷—Hodge would assert that regeneration was instead a monergistic work of God, noting that God is “the giver of faith and repentance.”²⁸

Hodge continues,

[Regeneration] is not an act which, by argument and persuasion, or by moral power, He induces the sinner to perform. But it is an act of which [God] is the agent.  It is God who regenerates.  The soul is regenerated. In this sense the soul is passive in regeneration, which (subjectively considered) is a change wrought in us, and not an act performed by us.²⁹

In the two previous quotes, Hodge counters men like Finney and Taylor who argued that regeneration followed as a result of a sinner’s acceptance of the gospel. According to Hodge, regeneration was better understood as a change of the individual’s disposition wrought by the unilateral activity of the Holy Spirit and occurring prior to one’s acceptance of the gospel.

Hodge, in keeping with his argument that regeneration was a sovereign work of God, would also contend that regeneration was an immediate act of God upon the soul.  He explains,

[Regeneration] is immediate, as opposed to mediate, or through or by the truth.  When either in Scripture or in theological writings, the word regeneration is taken in the wide sense as including conversion or the voluntary turning of the soul to God, then indeed it is said to be by the Word.  The restoration of sight to the blind by the command of Christ, was an act of omnipotence. It was immediate. Nothing in the way of instrumentary or secondary cooperating influence intervened between the divine volition and the effect.  But all exercises of the restored faculty were through and by the light.  And without light, sight is impossible. Raising Lazarus from the dead was an act of omnipotence.  Nothing intervened between the volition and the effect.  The act of quickening was an act of God.  In the matter Lazarus was passive.  But in all the acts of the restored vitality, he was active and free.³⁰

In this paragraph, Hodge, in his attempt to combat the idea that God grants regeneration upon one’s acceptance of the gospel, argues for the Spirit’s activity to occur apart from any mediation by the truth of the gospel. Thus, Hodge maintained that regeneration occurred subconsciously: “Regeneration, subjectively considered, or viewed as an effect or change wrought in the soul, is not an act. It is not a new purpose created by God (if that language be intelligible), or formed by the sinner under his influence. Nor is it any conscious exercise of any kind. It is something which lies lower than consciousness.”³¹

So, by arguing that regeneration was an immediate (i.e. unmediated), unilateral work of God occurring somewhere below the believer’s consciousness, Hodge could uphold the sovereignty of God in salvation and guard the larger doctrine of soteriology from synergistic infiltration. We will note later how Hodge’s noble desire to preserve the doctrine of God’s sovereignty in salvation may have unwittingly divorced the Word and Spirit in the application of the benefits of Christ’s work to the believer, which, I will argue, bore unwelcome and pastorally unhelpful fruit. For now, however, we turn to another important Reformed theologian, Louis Berkhof.

Louis Berkhof

In his treatment of regeneration, Berkhof follows Hodge and begins by highlighting the monergistic nature of God’s work upon anindividual’s soul. Berkhof writes, “Regeneration is a creative work of God, and is therefore a work in which man is purely passive, and in which there is no place for human co-operation. This is a very important point, since it stresses the fact that salvation is wholly of God.”³²

Berkhof continues, noting the same essential characteristics of regeneration as Hodge. First, according to Berkhof, regeneration “consists in the implanting of the principle of the new spiritual life in man, in a radical change of the governing disposition of the soul, which, under the influence of the Holy Spirit, gives birth to a life that moves in a Godward direction.”³³

Second, against Semi-Pelagianism and Roman Catholicism, regeneration is instantaneous change of man’s nature, not a “work gradually prepared in the soul.”³⁴

Third, regeneration is understood to occur in the sub-conscious.  Elaborating this last point, Berkhof writes,

[Regeneration] is a secret and inscrutable work of God that is never directly perceived by man.  The change may take place without man’s being conscious of it momentarily, though this is not the case when regeneration and conversion coincide; and even later on he can perceive it only in its effects.  This explains the fact that a Christian man, on the one hand, struggle for a long time with doubts and uncertainties, and can yet, on the other hand, gradually overcome these and rise to the heights of assurance.³⁵

Drawing from these three distinctions, Berkhof forms his definition of regeneration: “In the strictest sense of the word we may say: Regeneration is that act of God by which the principle of new life is implanted in man, and the governing disposition of the soul is made holy.”³⁶

Berkhof then follows his examination of regeneration with a short discussion of the effectual call. The new disposition mentioned in Berkhof’s definition of regeneration is what enables an individual to repent and believe the gospel.

The gospel, as Berkhof notes, comes to the individual by way of an external call: the general call to all mankind to repent of one’s sin and believe in Jesus Christ. For those upon whom he has chosen to bestow the blessing of salvation, God issues an internal call by which the Holy Spirit effectively applies the Word given in the external call to the heart of the individual.³⁷

Given the apparent similarity between regeneration and the effectual call, it is no wonder that Berkhof turns from here immediately to a section explaining the relationship between effectual calling and regeneration.

The primary distinction Berkhof notices between regeneration and effectual calling is that regeneration, strictly understood, occurs somewhere in the subconscious life of an individual, whereas it is the conscious life of a person to which the effectual call is directed.  Berkhof explains,

Regeneration in the strictest sense of the word . . . takes place in the sub-conscious life of man, and is quite independent of any attitude which he may assume with reference to it.  Calling, on the other hand, addresses itself to the consciousness, and implies a certain disposition of the conscious life.  This follows from the fact that regeneration works from within, while calling comes from without. . . .Furthermore, regeneration is a creative, a hyperphysical operation of the Holy Spirit, by which man is brought from one condition into another, from a condition of spiritual death into a condition of spiritual life.  Effectual calling, on the other hand, is teleological, draws out the new life and points it in a God-ward direction.  It secures the exercises of the new disposition and brings the new life into action.³⁸

Thus, Berkhof argues that regeneration fall prior to (and be considered distinct from) the effectual call in the ordo salutis. According the Berkhof, the application of salvation comes to an individual first through the external call of the gospel. Then, by a creative word (not the word preached in the external call of the gospel), God “generates new life, changing the inner disposition of the soul, illuminating the mind, rousing the feelings, renewing the will . . . This is regeneration in the strictest sense.”³⁹

Through regeneration, God grants the individual an “ear” by which to hear the effectual call.  Now that the individual’s disposition has been changed from sinful and rebellious to holy and willing he “yields to the persuasive influence of the Word through the operation of the Holy Spirit.  This is the instrumentality of the word of preaching, effectively applied by the Spirit of God. . . This effectual calling, finally, secures, through the truth as a means, the first holy exercise of the new disposition born in the soul.”⁴⁰

Thus, Berkhof is careful to note what he calls the “efficient cause” of regeneration: it is neither the human will, nor the external truth of the gospel,⁴¹ but the Holy Spirit. In stating it in such terms, Berkhof anticipates the question of the Word’s role in regeneration.

We have already noted that Berkhof believed that the Spirit speaks a creative word in his work of regeneration. This creative word, however, is not the same as the external Word of the gospel.  In Berkhof’s scheme, the creative word is that by which the Holy Spirit begets new life and a holy disposition in an individual and thus enables that person to repent and believe.  

In order to preclude any misunderstanding, Berkhof desires to speak of the Word of God as instrumental in regeneration, while distinguishing the influence of the Holy Spirit from the influence of the Word of God, noting that the influence of the former is needed for reception of the latter.  Berkhof subsequently argues, following William Shedd’s Dogmatic Theology,

Regeneration is a creative act, by which the spiritually dead sinner is restored to life.  But the truth of the gospel can only work in a moral and persuasive way.  Such an instrument has no effect on the dead.  To assert its use would seem to imply a denial of the spiritual death of man . . . Regeneration takes place in the sphere of the sub-conscious, that is, outside of the sphere of conscious attention, while the truth addresses itself to the consciousness of man.  It can exercise its persuasive influence when man’s attention is fixed on it.⁴²

The distinction that developed between the effectual call and regeneration, according to Berkhof, was a useful refinement within Reformed theology, and, in systematic presentations of the truth, something to retain.⁴³

Berkhof’s Legacy

Several Reformed theologians have followed Berkhof’s lead in this regard. Thomas Oden, for example, maintains a distinction between the immediate work of the Spirit and the mediate work of the Word upon the individual in granting regeneration.⁴⁴

 Robert Reymond states his doctrine of regeneration in much the same way as Berkhof and Hodge, writing, “[Regeneration] is the subconscious implanting of the principle of the new spiritual life in the soul, effecting an instantaneous change in the whole man, intellectually, emotionally, and morally, and enabling the elect sinner to respond in repentance and faith to the outward or public gospel proclamation directed to his conscious understanding and will.”⁴⁵

Wayne Grudem argues that regeneration must come prior to the effectual call in order to enable the individual to believe the gospel with saving faith. Accordingly, Grudem contends, “we can say that regeneration comes before the result of effective calling (our faith).”⁴⁶

He continues, “As the gospel comes to us, God speaks through it to summon us to himself (effective calling) and to give us new spiritual life (regeneration) so that we are enabled to respond in faith. Effective calling is thus God the Father speaking powerfully to us, and regeneration is God the Father and God the Holy Spirit working powerfully in us, to make us alive.”⁴⁷

The distinction articulated by these theologians between the effectual call and regeneration, however, does not find uniform historical support within the Reformed tradition—seventeenth century theologians, in order to preserve the unity of the Word of God and “the operation of [God’s] grace”⁴⁸ in the application of salvation to individuals, either identified effectual calling as regeneration, or included regeneration within the effectual call.  Statements in the Westminster Confession of Faith (1647), and in both the Westminster Shorter (1647) and Larger (1648) Catechisms bear witness to this fact.⁴⁹

The question posed by Horton at this point is whether forging a distinction between effectual calling and regeneration that came later is exegetically and theologically sustainable.⁵⁰

Part 2: Coming Back Together: Effectual Calling and Regeneration as Twin Realities

As I discussed above, Reformed theologians such as Hodge and Berkhof articulated their doctrine of regeneration to guard the larger doctrine of salvation from the encroachment of any synergistic view of conversion. By placing the creative act of the Spirit in regeneration prior to (or, at least, distinct from) the effectual calling and the external Word of the gospel, these theologians could ensure that man could claim no part in his conversion to Christ. Regeneration, an act performed by God alone upon the soul of the sinner, enabled the individual to respond to the gospel by granting him a new disposition inclined to God and Christ. With this new disposition, the individual could now positively respond to the effectual call, thus leading to justification and the other blessings contained in the ordo. This view, however, is problematic.

Horton, for example, wonders if the aim to shield the doctrine of salvation from synergistic penetration caused these Reformed theologians—and those who followed them—to make unbiblical and theologically unnecessary concessions.

One area of concession, Horton argues, concerns the idea of regeneration granting a new inner-disposition, or, as some have called it, an infused habit or habitus by which the individual is thus enabled to respond to the effectual calling. In the debate with Rome over justification, the Reformers had stridently opposed the Catholic Church’s insistence on infused habits in order to retain the forensic and external nature of God’s justifying act.⁵¹ In order to preserve the sovereignty of God in the work of salvation, however, Protestant theologians appeared to sanction the category of habitus. Horton explains,

Therefore, in opposition to Rome, when the central question was justification—Reformation theologies were suspicious of the language of infused habits, while encounters with various forms of synergism drove the Protestant scholastics back to the traditional categories of infused habits in order to affirm the logical priority of grace.⁵²

An example of this inclination toward safeguarding divine sovereignty in salvation by appealing to infused habits is demonstrated by the Dutch Reformer, Alexander Comrie (1706-1774).⁵³

Joel Beeke illustrates;

By accenting the habitus of faith, Comrie promoted divine grace as the sole cause of faith.  He said that it is the sole prerogative of the Holy Spirit to implant this habitus in the elect who are spiritually dead. In this implanting of faith, the sinner is utterly passive; with this implanting, he is engrafted into Jesus Christ; and from this implanting, the elect will become active in exercising faith.⁵⁴

While the Protestant scholastic’s endorsement and use of the category of infused habits does not, in itself, disprove their position, it does suggest that their tendency to fortify the doctrine of salvation against any hint of synergism may have enticed them to make unwarranted theological moves.

Positing a distinction between regeneration and effectual calling also fixed a gap between the Word of God and the Spirit of God in the application of salvation to the individual. Although theologians like Berkhof wanted to retain the notion of God’s powerful speaking in the work of regeneration, the creative word spoken by God in regeneration was not the Word of the gospel, but a secret word spoken to the individual below the level of consciousness, enabling him to respond to the effectual call. Thus, although the Spirit’s work in regeneration was not strictly divorced from God’s speaking activity—God does speak the new disposition into existence—it appears that this speaking activity at the point of regeneration is not related to the external Word of the gospel. Thus, we have a situation where the Spirit is found working apart from the revealed Word of the gospel—the Spirit’s work in regeneration being, as B.B. Warfield contends, “mediated by nothing.”⁵⁵

Horton suggests a better way to frame the relation of the Spirit and the Word’s activity in the application of salvation, finding a helpful solution in speech act theory.⁵⁶

Instead of retreating back to the category of infused habits in order to uphold the sovereignty of grace in salvation, he recommends that we “treat the instrumentality of the Word in terms of both illocutionary and perlocutionary acts.”⁵⁷

In other words, we should understand the Word’s role in regeneration as providing not only the content of the gospel, but also the production of the desired effect of this content; namely, the creation of new life which in turn brings the individual to embrace the gospel.

Accordingly, this formulation allows “the monergism that these [Reformed] writers rightly insist on affirming [to] be firmly defended without appeal to a regeneration that is logically prior to and separate from effectual calling through the gospel.”⁵⁸

The move to infused habits to buttress sovereign grace is unnecessary since, “It is not immediacy that guards regeneration from synergism, but its divine source.”⁵⁹

Removing any potential mediation between the individual and God—even if it is the truth of the gospel—in order to safeguard monergism is no longer required since the entire work of salvation still resides with God.

Utilizing speech act theory, Horton clarifies further: “I suggest, therefore, that the external call includes the locutionary act of the Father’s speaking and the Son as illocutionary content.  The internal call (effectual calling), synonymous with regeneration, is the Spirit’s perlocutionary effect.”⁶⁰

By formulating the relationship between effectual calling and regeneration in this way, we retain a strong connection between the Word and Spirit in the application of salvation to the individual, since in this case, “As in all of God’s works, the Spirit brings to fruition the goal of divine communication.”⁶¹

Although individuals are in need of the work of the Spirit in order to believe the gospel, the Spirit, at no time, works apart from the illocutionary content of the Word—he works with and through the Word in creating new life, rather than infusing a new habitus beneath the consciousness of the individual that responds to the content of the effectual call. According to Horton, “The Father never speaks apart from the Son, and the Spirit makes that Word, not another, bear fruit. It is the triune God who accomplishes all of this, yet always in a mediated manner.”⁶²

Horton comments further, “Scripture repeatedly identifies God’s ‘creating power’ with the Word that is spoken. Like the original creation, the new birth is the result of a mediated speech-act.”⁶³

This new birth occurs as the “Father objectively reveals the Son, and the Spirit inwardly illumines the understanding to behold the glory of God in the face of Christ (2 Cor. 4:6; cf. John 1:5; 3:5; 17:3; 1 Cor. 2:14), liberating the will not only to assent to the truth, but also to trust in Christ (Jer. 32:39-40; Ezek. 36:26; Eph. 2:1-9; Heb. 8:10).”⁶⁴

Thus, by following Horton’s formulation, we preserve the monergistic nature of salvation and a strong connection between the Word and Spirit in the application of salvation to the individual.

To understand Horton’s argument, one must recognize the way Scripture speaks of the effectual nature of the Word in bringing about spiritual change in an individual. Perhaps the two most significant texts that demonstrate the Word’s role in regeneration are James 1:18 and 1 Peter 1:23. James 1:18 teaches that God used the word of truth to “bring forth” new believers—believers who would be “firstfruits among God’s creatures” (v.18b). Peter attributes the new birth directly to the word of God, reminding his readers, “you have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God.”  Whereas Berkhof desired to ascribe regeneration to a secret word spoken by the Spirit, Peter explicitly assigns the work of regeneration to the external Word of the gospel: “And this word [i.e. that word by which you were born again in verse 23] is the good news that was preached to you.”

At this point Berkhof argues that neither James 1:18 nor 1 Peter 1:23 prove conclusively that the Word mediates regeneration.  In these two texts, Berkhof contends that the words referring to the new birth in both contexts refer instead to actual birth, not the initial begetting.⁶⁵

By arguing this way, Berkhof is able to maintain the distinction between the Spirit implanting a new principle (begetting) and the Word bringing about regeneration “in a broader sense.”⁶⁶

Berkhof clarifies his point further: “The idea that [I Peter 1:23] refers to the new birth here, is favored by the fact that the readers are represented as having been born again out of a seed that was evidently already implanted in the soul, cf. John 1:13. It is not necessary to identify the seed with the Word.” The main difficulty with Berkhof’s argument is that “seed” does not need to refer to an inward principle given by the Spirit and separate from the “abiding word of God,” unless the distinction is assumed before coming to the passage. In the context of I Peter 1:23-25, it seems more natural to understand the “seed” to refer to the “abiding word of God,” since the word of God appears to be the focal point of the text. In other words, the “imperishable seed” to which Peter refers is the word of God, not some inward principle given by the Spirit.⁶⁷

Robert Reymond, while acknowledging that the Westminster Confession of Faith does not make a distinction between regeneration and effectual calling, desires to separate the two by speaking of the gracious work of the Spirit in reference to regeneration. Reymond comments,

Paul employs the word [palingenesia] (“regeneration”) itself only once with reference to spiritual renewal of an individual: “Not by works which we have done in righteousness but according to his mercy he saved us through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit (Titus 3:5). But he elaborates the doctrinal notion elsewhere under the terminology of (1) lifegiving resurrection with Christ (Eph. 2:5)—“when you were dead in trespasses, he made us alive with Christ” (Col. 2:13)—“when you were dead in trespasses and the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ” . . . and (2) the divine work of creation (2 Cor. 5:17)—“if any man is in Christ, he is a new creation” . . .⁶⁸

Reymond continues by noting the apostle John’s continual reference to the new birth in both his gospel and his first epistle (John 1:13; 3:3-7; I John 2:29; 3:9; 4:7; 5:1; 5:4; 5:18) and by mentioning the monergistic source and practical effects of regeneration.⁶⁹

From here, Reymond develops his definition of regeneration—a definition, as we have already seen, that appeals to the subconscious implantation of an inward principle that enables a person to respond to the call of the gospel.⁷⁰

But does Reymond’s textual evidence warrant the formulation of his definition of regeneration? Certainly, the texts that speak of the work of raising the dead to life refer to the Spirit’s gracious work, but they do not necessitate that we understand this work as the granting of an inward principle apart from the external word of the gospel. It follows the pattern of Scripture better to view the creation of life as issuing from the powerful Word of God (Genesis 1:1; Psalm 33:6; 2 Corinthians 4:4ff; John 6:63; 11:43).  God brings new life into existence, not apart from his Word, but by his Word.

Thus, when we come to passages such as Ephesians 2:1-8, Colossians 2:13 and 2 Corinthians 5:17, where we find that God graciously and powerfully brings men who are dead in sin to life, we do not need to understand these texts as suggesting that spiritual life is given apart from the revealed Word—the broader context of Scripture should move us to understand this transition from death to life as being effected by the Word of God with the Spirit of God. Furthermore, Titus 3:5, where Paul reminds his readers that they were washed by the “regeneration and renewal by the Holy Spirit,” does not demand that we establish a category of inward principles given by the Holy Spirit apart from the Word, since we have other texts that attribute the same activity (that of washing and cleansing) to the revealed Word (see especially John 15:3; and Ephesians 5:26). Even John’s many references to divine “begetting,” must be understood alongside texts that support the notion that this act of God is mediated by the word of the gospel (James 1:18; I Peter 1:23-25).  Horton’s comments at this point are especially illuminating:

Is it not the case that in attributing all efficacy to the Spirit’s power, Scripture typically represents this as occurring through the word of God that is ‘at work’ in its recipients (I Thess. 2:13; cf. Rom. 8:14-16; I Cor. 2:4-5; 4:12-13; 2 Cor. 4:13; Gal. 3:2; Eph. 1:17; I Thess. 1:5; Titus 3:5)—specifically, that message of the gospel, which is the ‘power of God for salvation’” (Rom. 1:16; 10:17; I Thess. 1:5)?⁷¹

In other words, in making a theological distinction between effectual calling and regeneration where the former acts on the consciousness of the individual and is received only as the result of the work of the latter in the subconscious life of the individual, we appear to be forming divisions where Scripture does not. The texts above used by Berkhof, Reymond and others should not be exploited to support the idea that in regeneration the Spirit grants an inward principle of new life that in turn enables a person to respond to the effectual call. Rather, these texts, understood alongside the entire Biblical context, indicate that God’s effectual call has brought about its intended result: the creation of new life by the Word of the gospel and the Spirit of God. By combining these two facets of the ordo we will find not only theological coherence, but pastoral assistance as well. To this subject we now turn.       

Looking Outward, Not Turning Inward: Pastoral Implications of Understanding Regeneration as Effectual Calling

One concern—already noted by Sinclair Ferguson—inherent in the very discussion of the ordo salutis is the danger of separating the blessings of salvation from the author of salvation, Jesus Christ. In my judgment, the distinction that arose between the effectual call and regeneration further perpetuates this danger rather than offering remediation.  Although the doctrine of sovereign grace in salvation is certainly essential in providing genuine assurance to believers—a tenant Reformed theologians sought to preserve in their theological refinements of regeneration—it is the argument of this paper that maintaining the distinction between regeneration and effectual calling actually undermines a Christ-centered approach to the ordo and, in turn, weakens our doctrine of assurance and opens the door to other unhealthy tendencies in the Christian life.

First, as we observed in our survey of the Reformed development of the doctrine of the ordo and, more specifically, regeneration, the content of the gospel soon became dislodged from the Spirit’s work in creating new life in the individual. It is not difficult to imagine how the object of the gospel, the incarnate Word, could then be displaced from formulations of the ordo salutis—the focal point of the ordo now became what the Spirit does in the subjective life of the individual, rather than upon the Word to whom the believer is now united through faith. Ferguson observes how the subtle distinction that appeared between the effectual call and regeneration after the seventeenth century served to loosen the work of the Spirit in regeneration from its Scriptural moorings. He writes,

. . . in many seventeenth-century writers, effectual calling and regeneration tended to be treated as synonyms.  Only in the continuing development of evangelical theology did [regeneration] come to be used in the more limited and particular sense of the inauguration of new life by the sovereign and secret activity of God.  While this served to focus attention on the power of God in giving new life, when detached from its proper theological context it was capable of being subjectivized and psychologized to such an extent that the term “born again” became dislocated from its biblical roots.⁷²

By allowing these two components of the ordo—effectual calling and regeneration—to drift apart, Reformed theology, in my judgment, provided the ground for overly subjective approaches to assurance and to the Christian life. Now, instead of being encouraged to turn outward to the content of the effectual call—the external Word of the gospel and the incarnate Word of the Father—in order to find assurance, individuals are summoned to seek the enabling power of a new inward principle in order to find assurance or even the warrant to believe the gospel. Although this may not have been the explicit teaching of Reformed theologians who articulated a distinction between effectual calling and regeneration, it does seem like an inevitable implication.

Charles Spurgeon encountered the problem of troubled sinners complaining about the warrant to believe in the gospel, stating that unless they were sure of God’s work in their life, they did not have the right to believe on Christ. Iain Murray explains;

That a work of God in the heart is necessary in order that a sinner comes to faith Spurgeon never doubted, on the contrary he preached it clearly but it is not with that work that the sinner is to be concerned; his attention is to be fixed on the warrant. God has much to do in us but requires nothing of us before we come to Christ. The way to faith and the warrant of faith are not the same things. Sinners, says Owen, “are not directed first to secure their souls that they are born again, and, then afterwards, to believe; but they are first to believe that the remission of sin has been tendered to them in the blood of Christ . . . nor is it the duty of men to question whether they have faith or not, but actually to believe; and faith in its operations will evidence itself.”⁷³

On the other hand, Horton’s proposal, while not solving all the problems related to assurance⁷⁴ and Hyper-Calvinism, does deliver significant pastoral help by drawing the eyes of the individual away from himself and the nebulous inner-workings of his heart to the objective content of the effectual call. If it is the effectual call that brings about the saving change in a believer, it makes sense to turn to the content of that call—the Word of the gospel and the Word incarnate—in order to find both assurance and the warrant to believe, not to the discovery of an inward principle.⁷⁵

This approach appears to respect the functional integrity of the individual as well.  Ferguson is careful to note in his section on regeneration that the Spirit’s work upon a person does not violate the composite nature of that individual. He explains, “Scripture does not view the Spirit’s operations on the mental, volitional, and affectional powers as independent of the integrity of the individual, as though the regeneration of an individual is an abstract event. Rather, the individual is a thinking-willing-affective creature, a whole person.”⁷⁶ Nevertheless, even though Ferguson helpfully observes that, “Regeneration and the faith to which it gives birth are seen as taking place not by revelationless divine sovereignty, but within the matrix of the preaching of the word and the witness of the people of God” (cf. Rom. 10:1-15), and that “Word and Spirit belong together,”⁷⁷ he must finally appeal to an unmediated work of the Spirit in order to maintain his commitment to the monergistic nature of regeneration.

Furthermore, by positioning regeneration in a realm separate from the effectual call, Ferguson and others perpetuate the confusing division made in Reformed theology between the willingness to believe and the actual act of believing. In his discussion of efficacious grace, Paul Enns notes that God’s work in applying salvation to individuals involves the Holy Spirit rendering the person willing to believe in Jesus Christ.⁷⁸

This clarification is made in order to counter the argument that Reformed theology portrays a God who brings people to faith in Christ against their will. In order to maintain the sovereignty of grace while simultaneously avoiding the complaint that the Reformed doctrine of salvation violates the individual’s volition, theologians have sought to emphasize that by God’s work of regeneration, a person is made willing to believe. As we have seen, this willingness to believe the gospel is supplied immediately (i.e. unmediated) by the Holy Spirit as an infused principle. In my judgment, this kind of language, where one’s willingness to believe is distinguished from the one’s act of believing, is inherently problematic. While I am sympathetic with the desire to protect Reformed soteriology from the claim that it overthrows the composite integrity of the individual (i.e. according to their nature as a thinking-feeling-willing person), is it not more accurate to say, in light of Horton’s proposal, that instead of making a person willing to believe, God, in his act of effectual calling, actually creates a believer?

In Horton’s proposal, the effectual call, where the Spirit works with and through the Word to bring about new life, there is no necessity to form a gap between one’s willingness to believe and one actually believing. When God speaks his saving Word to an individual, they believe. Also, by removing the pre-conscious-faith phase of willingness, we guard assurance from becoming overly subjective. Thus, those who are troubled with the assurance of their salvation are not encouraged to look into themselves to discover if they are willing to believe; rather, they are called to believe.  This exhortation to believe, then, turns people away from themselves to the content of the effectual call—Jesus Christ and the Word of the gospel. It is by looking to the object of faith more than ruminating on faith itself that gives rise to genuine assurance.       

Concerning this last point—that assurance is sustained by looking away from faith and looking to Christ—John Piper offers counsel to those who might find themselves ministering to people who have doubts about whether they belong to God. Piper writes,

Christians in the darkness of depression may ask desperately, How can I know that I am truly a child of God? They are not usually asking to be reminded that we are saved by grace through faith. They know that. They are asking how they can know that their faith is real. God must guide us in how we answer, and knowing the person will help us know what to say.⁷⁹

Piper then offers four pieces of advice to aid us in ministering to others (or ourselves!) who are mired in this kind of miserable condition. It is the second upon which I want to focus.  Piper writes,

Or . . . we might say, “Stop looking at your faith, and rivet your attention on Christ.  Faith is sustained by looking at Christ, crucified and risen, not by turning from Christ to analyze your faith. Let me help you look to Christ.  Let’s read Luke 22-24 together.” Paradoxically, if we should experience the joy of faith, we must not focus much on it. We must focus on the greatness of our Savior (emphasis added).⁸⁰

Accordingly, the individual is turned away from looking into themselves for the comfort of assurance, and looking to Christ and his Word.  

Again, however, this emphasis upon the effectual calling should not lead us to conclude that an individual can bring about his own salvation. The argument of this series in general and this article in particular is not that a person can supply himself with salvation or the assurance of salvation—both are the work of the Spirit (John 3:3-8; Romans 8:16). Rather, it is to demonstrate how the reassembling of the effectual call and regeneration into one theological entity has the potential to turn individuals away from subjective preoccupation with themselves in their search for assurance to the content of the effectual call by which they were saved. If Luther is correct in his observation that sin is not only turning away from God (aversio a Deo), but also a curving in on oneself (incurvatio in se ipsum),⁸¹ it seems that formulating the ordo in a way that brings the attention of the individual back to a Word outside himself offers much to remedy this problem.

Conclusion

Herman Bavinck noted over one-hundred years ago that, “The history of the order of salvation convincingly highlights its importance, not only for the enrichment of our knowledge but above all practically for the conduct of our life.”⁸²

The contention of these essays is that Bavinck is right: How we frame our understanding of the ordo salutis not only affects other important theological formulations; it has serious—and sometimes unanticipated—implications for our practical lives and pastoral ministry. By bringing regeneration back under the heading of the effectual call within the framework of Horton’s speech-act theory, we remain more faithful to Scripture’s presentation of how God applies salvation to individuals. By tying God’s creative act in regeneration to both the Word and the Spirit, and by avoiding the unnecessary category of infused, subconscious habits or principles, we help to maintain an articulation of the ordo that is more Christ-centered and thus, pastorally beneficial.  

1. J. I. Packer, The Quest for Godliness (Wheaton: Crossway, 1990), 15.
2. Sinclair Ferguson, The Holy Spirit (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1996), 94.
3. This is not to suggest that some thought was not given to these matters. Augustine, in the fifth century, articulated a doctrine of predestination, while also drawing a distinction between what would later become known as the effectual calling and general calling.  See Gregg R. Allison, Historical Theology: An Introduction to Christian Doctrine (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2011), 478-479.
4. Robert L. Reymond, A New Systematic Theology of the Christian Faith (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1998), 704.
5. Reymond, Theology, 704.
6. Ferguson, Holy Spirit, 95.
7. Ferguson, Holy Spirit, 95.
8. Ferguson, The Holy Spirit, 95-96.  Ferguson notes that the expression ordo salutis can be traced back to F. Buddeaus, Institutiones Theologiae Dogmaticae (1724) and J. Karpov, Theologia Revelata Dogmatica (1739).  The idea of an ordo in the application of salvation to the individual believer, however, preceded its technical theological designation that came during the time of Protestant orthodoxy, as we have seen in our brief examination of the medieval understanding of justification (see Ferguson, The Holy Spirit, 262n3).
9. Ferguson, Holy Spirit, 96.
10. Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, Vol. 3 (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2006), 565.
11. Joel R. Beeke and Randall J. Pederson, Meet the Puritans (Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage, 2006), 469-480.
12. Ferguson, Holy Spirit, 98.
13. There are some theologians who fall within the Reformed tradition but who do not accept this order.  Millard Erickson, for example, understands the order to be (1) Effectual calling, (2) Conversion (which includes faith and repentance); and (3) Regeneration.  The desire to turn from sin to Christ is given in the effectual call—regeneration is given upon repentance and faith.   See Millard Erickson, Christian Theology, (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2006), 944-959.  Bruce Demarest also places regeneration after conversion, understanding the Spirit’s effectual call providing the desire to please God, subsequently leading to repentance and faith, which, in turn, brings about regeneration.  See Bruce Demarest, The Cross and Salvation (Wheaton: Crossway, 1997), 246.
14. G. N. M. Collins, “Order of Salvation,” in The Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, ed. Walter A.  Elwell (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), 870.
15. Ferguson, The Holy Spirit, page 97, writes, “The motivation in the older classical discussions of the ordo salutis was to discover not a chronological arrangement, but a logical one; the order in view was not primarily one of temporal priority, but was focused on logical relationships, on an order of nature.”  See also William Shedd, Dogmatic Theology ed. Alan Gomes (Philipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 2003), supplement 6.3.6, 785.
16. Ferguson, The Holy Spirit, 98-99.  Despite later developments within the Reformed ordo salutis, William Perkins’ own scheme was remarkably Christ-centered.  Richard Muller writes, in his article, “Perkins A Golden Chaine: Predestinarian System or Schematized Ordo Salutis?” in The Sixteenth Century Journal 9 (1978) on pages 76 and 77, “But prior to Perkins’ time no one had so meticulously placed the person of the mediator in such a central systematic relation to the [divine] decree and its execution.  The ordo salutis both originates and is effected in Christ. . . .Perkins’ diagram, therefore, has as a primary emphasis the explicit application of Christ’s work to each phase of the ordo salutis.” Ferguson will also take note of Perkins’ Christocentricity below.
17. Ferguson, Holy Spirit, 99.
18. Ferguson, Holy Spirit, 100-101.  Indeed, Calvin himself cautions us in this regard when he writes, “First, we must understand  that as long as Christ remains outside of us, and we are separated from him, all that he has suffered and done for the salvation of the human race remains useless and of no value for us” (John Calvin, The Institutes of the Christian Religion ed. John T. McNeill [Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960], 1:537).  Therefore, any formulation of the ordo salutis that seeks to be faithful to Scripture must place the discussion within the framework of union with Christ. Post-reformation theologian Peter Van Mastricht also saw union with Christ as the ultimate goal of entire ordo. Richard Muller writes, “Mastricht now proceeds in brief to set forth the ordo salutis: justification, adoption, sanctification, glorification, the end and fruit of which is union and communion with Christ.”  See Richard Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, Vol. 2 (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2003), 293.
19. erguson, Holy Spirit, 102.
20. Ferguson, Holy Spirit, 102.
21. Ferguson, Holy Spirit, 22.
22. Louis Berkhof, Systematic Theology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996), 418.
23. Michael Horton, Covenant and Salvation (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2007), 234.
24. Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology in Three Volumes (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2003), III: 3.
25. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 234.
26. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 234.
27. Finney and Taylor were frustrated by what he perceived to be the results of high-Calvinism; namely, the tendency of the willfully unrepentant to use the doctrine of divine sovereignty as an excuse to remain disobedient to the call of the gospel.  Thus, Finney developed a doctrine of regeneration that viewed man’s turning from sin and God’s work of regeneration as the same event.  Gregg Allison explains, “In particular, Finney articulated his view of regeneration, including repentance and faith, in opposition to the prevailing Calvinistic views.  He opposed the usual distinction made between regeneration and conversion, a distinction that he considered to be ‘arbitrary and theological, rather than biblical. . . .In both alike God and man are both active and their activity is simultaneous.  God works or draws, and the sinner yields or turns or—which is the same thing—changes his heart or, in other words, is born again.’  Finney underscored one reason for his strong objection to this distinction: ‘It leads the sinner to wait to be regenerated, before he repents or turns to God.  It is of most fatal tendency to represent the sinner as under a necessity of waiting to be passively regenerated before he gives himself to God” (Historical Theology, 493.  Allison quotes Charles Finney’s Lectures in Systematic Theology: New Expanded Edition, ed. Dennis Carroll, Bill Nicely, and L. G. Parkhurst Jr. [Minneapolis: Bethany, 1994], 271 and Finney’s Lectures on Revival [Minneapolis: Bethany, 1988], 13). Taylor also tried to distance himself from the idea that man should passively wait to be regenerated by God. Douglas Sweeny explains, “Taylor believed it ‘of vital importance to show, that there are acts which are not sinful—and yet which may be done, and which must be done, by the man or he will never be regenerated.’  Convinced that this work of God would not take place without the free exercise of human will, Taylor tried diligently to remove the passivity ingrained by Hopkinsian and high Calvinist views of providence” (Nathaniel Taylor, New Haven Theology, and the Legacy of Jonathan Edwards [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003], 113.
28. Hodge, Systematic Theology, III: 31.
29. Hodge, Systematic Theology, III: 31.
30. Hodge, Systematic Theology, III: 31.
31. Hodge, Systematic Theology, III: 32.
32. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 465.
33. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 468.
34. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 468.
35. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 469.
36. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 469.
37. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 469-70.
38. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 471.
39. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 471.
40. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 471.
41. By stating that the truth is not the efficient cause of regeneration, Berkhof means to answer the argument given by Charles Finney and others that the Holy Spirit presents the truth of the gospel to the unbeliever so that, through the moral persuasion of the Spirit and the Word, the sinner might convert himself.  Berkhof considers such a view unacceptable since “The truth can be a motive to holiness only if it is loved, while the natural man does not love the truth, but hates it Rom 1:18,25. Consequently the truth, presented externally, cannot be the efficient cause of regeneration” (473).  Regeneration is needed in order to bring a person to love the truth “so as to be saved” (II Thessalonians 2:10).
42. Berkhof, in maintaining a distinction between the influence of the Spirit and the influence of the Word and the immediacy of the Spirit’s work in regeneration, favorably quotes Shedd at length: “Dr. Shedd says, ‘The influence of the Holy Spirit is distinguishable from that of the truth; from that of man upon man; and from that of any instrument or means whatever.  His energy acts directly upon the human soul itself.  It is the influence of spirit upon spirit; of one of the Trinitarian persons upon a human person.  Neither the truth, nor a fellow-man, can thus operate directly upon the essence of the soul itself” (474; see William Shedd, Dogmatic Theology [New York: No Publisher Given, 1891-1894], 500.  See reference to the most recent edition of Shedd’s Dogmatic Theology in footnote 15 of this essay).
43. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 471.
44. Thomas C. Oden, Systematic Theology Volume Three: Life in the Spirit (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2006), 165.
45. Reymond, A New Systematic Theology, 720-721.  It is interesting to note that Reymond, only a few pages earlier in his discussion of the effectual call, appears to locate regeneration within the effectual call, saying, “‘Effectual calling is the work of God’s Spirit, whereby, convincing us of our sin and misery, enlightening our minds in the knowledge of Christ, and renewing our wills, he doth persuade and enable us to embrace Christ freely offered in the gospel’ (Shorter Catechism, Question 31). By the regenerating work of his Spirit, God the Father irresistibly summons, normally in conjunction with the church’s proclamation of the gospel, the elect sinner in to fellowship with, and into the kingdom of, his Son Jesus Christ.  His call is rendered effectual by the quickening work of the Spirit of God the Father and God the Son in the hearts of the elect” (718). Immediately after this section, however, Reymond continues by defining regeneration apart from the effectual calling claiming that the “Scriptures have much to say about the gracious work of the Spirit” (719).
46. Wayne Grudem, Systematic Theology (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1994), 700.  Grudem, however, also notes that Scripture presents effectual calling and regeneration occur at the same time.  “But it is more difficult to specify the exact relationship in time between regeneration and the human proclamation of the gospel through which God works in effective calling.  At least two passages suggest that God regenerates us at the same time as he speaks to us in effective calling: Peter says, ‘You have been born anew, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God . . . .That word is the good news that was preached to you’ (I Peter 1:23-25).  And James says, ‘He chose to give us birth through the word of truth’” (James 1:18 NIV).  This admission will become very significant as we examine Horton’s speech act theory.
47. Grudem, Systematic Theology, 700.
48. Grudem, Systematic Theology, 470.
49. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 470.  Under the heading, “Of Effectual Calling,” the Westminster Confession of Faith (1647) reads, “1) All those whom God hath predestined unto life, and those only, He is pleased, in his appointed and accepted time, effectually to call, by His Word and Spirit, out of the state of sin and death, in which they are by nature to grace and salvation, by Jesus Christ, enlightening their minds spiritually and savingly to understand the things of God, taking away their heart of stone, and giving them a heart of flesh; renewing their wills, and, by His almighty power, determining them to that which is good, and effectually drawing them to Jesus Christ: yet so, as they come most freely, being made willing by his grace.  2) This effectual call is of God’s free and special grace alone, not from anything at all foreseen in man, who is altogether passive therein, until, being quickened and renewed by the Holy Spirit, he is thereby enabled to answer this call, and to embrace the grace offered and conveyed by it.”  The Westminster Shorter Catechism (1647), to the question, “What is effectual calling,” answers, “Effectual calling is the work of God’s Spirit, whereby, convincing us of our sin and misery, enlightening our minds in the knowledge of Christ, and renewing our wills, He doth persuade us and enable us to embrace Jesus Christ freely offered in the gospel.”  The Larger Catechism (1648), under the question, “What is effectual calling,” reads, “Effectual calling is the work of God’s almighty power and grace, whereby (out of his free and special love to His elect, and from nothing in them moving Him thereunto) He doth, in His accepted time, invite and draw them to Jesus Christ, by His Word and Spirit, savingly enlightening their minds, renewing and powerfully determining their wills, so as they (although themselves dead in sin) are hereby made willing and able freely to answer His call, and to accept and embrace the grace offered and conveyed therein  (Joel R. Beeke and Sinclair B. Ferguson, Reformed Confessions Harmonized [Grand Rapids: Baker, 1999], 91-93).
50. Interestingly, it appears that Reformed theologian, John Murray, writing in 1955 did not follow Hodge or Berkhof by neatly separating regeneration and the effectual call.  In his book, Redemption Accomplished and Applied (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 1955), 96, Murray appears to link the two under one theological heading. Murray writes, “God’s call, since it is effectual, carries with it the operative grace whereby the person called is enabled to answer the call and to embrace Jesus Christ as he is freely offered in the gospel.  God’s grace reaches down to the lowest depths of our need and meets all the exigencies of the moral and spiritual impossibility which inheres in our depravity and inability. And that grace is the grace of regeneration.”
51. The very Reformation hinged on the argument that God’s declaration of “righteous” over the believing sinner was based on the work of Christ alone and was in no way dependent upon what had been or would be wrought inside the believer by the Holy Spirit via the sacraments or otherwise.
52. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 236.
53. Joel R. Beeke and Randall J. Pederson, Meet the Puritans, 753-756.
54. Joel R. Beeke, The Quest for Full Assurance: The Legacy of Calvin and His Successors (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1999), 220. Beeke continues, “Thus, Comrie’s stress on implantation (synonymous with regeneration) was never separate from the living out of conversion.  Ultimately, Comrie’s definition of regeneration included the initial moment of new life as well as the entire process of sanctification. Nevertheless, his accent was first on the impartation of new life; then, second, on the actus of faith—through both must still be attributed to divine grace.”
55. Ferguson, The Holy Spirit, 125.
56. For a simple and helpful discussion of the mechanics of speech act theory, please see Gregg R. Allison, “Speech Act Theory and its Implications for the Doctrine of the Inerrancy/Infallibility of Scripture,” in Philosophia Christi 18 (Spring 1995), 1-9.
57. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 237.
58. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 237.
59. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 241.
60. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 240.  Emphasis original.
61. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 240.
62. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 241.
63. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 237. At the end of the preceding paragraph, Horton writes, “With the older Reformed writers, we still affirm the necessity of the Spirit’s sovereign wok in inwardly regenerating hearers while affirming that this operation beyond the mere hearing the external Word nevertheless occurs with it and through it.”
64. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 240.
65. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 475.
66. Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 475.
67. See Wayne Grudem, Tyndale New Testament Commentaries: I Peter (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 90-91; Peter Davids, The First Epistle of Peter (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,1990), 77-78; Karen H. Jobes, Exegetical Commentary of the New Testament: First Peter (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2005), 123-130; John Calvin, Calvin’s Commentaries: The First Epistle to Peter, Vol. 22 (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1999), 56-57. Calvin understands the “corruptible seed” to be set in opposition to the incorruptible [i.e. imperishable] seed, which is the word of God.  Nevertheless, it is interesting, given Calvin’s comments on 1 Peter 1:23, that he appears to make such a sharp distinction between the inner working of the Spirit and the external working of the Word in his Institutes. Calvin writes, “If anyone wants a clearer answer, here it is: God works in his elect in two ways: within, through his Spirit; without, through his Word. By his Spirit, illuminating their minds and forming their hearts to the love and cultivation of righteousness, he makes them a new creation. By his Word, he arouses them to desire, to seek after, and to attain that same renewal” (I: 322). Although Calvin, in this passage from his Institutes, is attempting to emphasize a person’s need of the Spirit for spiritual progress, I note two faults in his description of the Spirit’s work. First, Calvin does not allow the Word to work inwardly on the individual—this work he leaves to the Spirit alone. Second, he attributes the creative power to the Spirit alone—a power that is also attributed to the Word throughout Scripture. Both of these statements seem to undermine Calvin’s comments on First Peter 1:23-25 where Calvin attributes the new birth to the word of the gospel.
68. Reymond, A New Systematic Theology, 719.
69. Reymond, A New Systematic Theology, 719.  Christopher D. Bass, in his book, That You May Know: Assurance of Salvation in I John (Nashville: B & H, 2008), 114-115, argues, based on context, that the “seed of God” in I John 3:9 refers strictly to the Holy Spirit. He does, however, recognize that there are other legitimate interpretations of this phrase, referring to J. du. Preez in his article, “‘Sperma autou’ in I John 3:9’ in Neotestamentica 9 (1975): 105-106, where he provides six different interpretations for “seed of God” in John 3:9: (1) the children of God; (2) the proclaimed word of God; (3) Christ; (4) the Holy Spirit; (5) new life from God; (6) the new nature. Although I do not want to quibble over Bass’s desire to see the Holy Spirit here as the agent of regeneration (in this we are agreed), I am not convinced that even the general context of I John necessitates that we understand “seed of God,” in 3:9 as referring strictly to the Spirit of God apart from the Word of God for three reasons: (1) John himself referred centrality of the “word of life” in the introduction to his epistle (1:1); (2) the context of I John 3:1-7 does not mention the agent of regeneration explicitly; (3) we have seen from our discussion of I Peter 1:23-25 that “seed” can refer unambiguously to the Word of God where the Word is the effectual cause regeneration. In other words, I do not think I John 3:9 can, by itself, support the idea that seed is necessarily the Holy Spirit working apart from the Word. In this case, I believe Horton is asking the right questions when he writes, “Does the Spirit ever implant a seed other than his Word?  And is that Word ever a mere principal or silent operation rather than a vocal, lively, and active speech” (Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 239)?
70. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 720.
71. Horton, Covenant and Salvation, 239.
72. Ferguson, The Holy Spirit, 117.
73. Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper Calvinism (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 2002), 72.  Murray quotes, John Owen, The Works of John Owen, Vol. 6 (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 2000), 598.  Murray continues, “God works in the heart and with the promises, and to treat the inward work of God as though it were over against the duty of believing the promises, as Hyper-Calvinism generally does, is to cause confusion to seeking souls. This confusion can be seen in the words of Joseph Hussey, on the first Hyper-Calvinists, who declared: ‘We ought to declare the gospel in the encouragements of it unto salvation.  But offers [i.e. general invitations, promising salvation to all who repent and believe] are no encouragements to salvation . . . Encouragements are the operations of His grace.’”  Murray here quotes Peter Toon, The Emergence of Hyper-Calvinism in English Non-Conformity 1689-1795 (London: The Olive Tree, 1967), 82.
74. It is important for ministers to remember that the assurance of our salvation is multi-faceted. Different truths will be emphasized for different situations—offering one ready-made answer for every person who is struggling with their assurance not only displays a kind of pastoral laziness, it fails to recognize the many ways in which the Scripture itself deals with the problem of assurance.  Christopher Ross, referring to the tests of assurance in the letter of I John writes, “We simply cannot have one pat answer that we try to apply to every situation.  People struggle with assurance for a number of reasons, and John’s teaching sufficiently flexible to deal with all of them.  Sometimes we might focus more on the atoning sacrifice of Christ while at other times we take them to the numerous tests of life.  For each different struggle, though, the answer always comes straight from the pages of Scripture” (That You May Know, 193).
75. Graeme Goldsworthy, in Gospel-Centered Hermeneutics (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2006), 176-177, has some helpful comments here.  Although these comments are not related directly to the issue of effectual call, they do highlight the problem of an overly subjective approach to assurance and faith.  “An aspect of Catholicism that Protestants have rejected is the reversal of the relationship of objective justification to its subjective outworking or sanctification.  Another way of putting this is that the focus on the grace of God at work in the historic gospel event of Jesus Christ is muted compared to the emphasis on the grace of God as a kind of spiritual infusion into the life of the Christian. The gospel is seen more as what God is doing in me now rather than what God did for me then. The focus is on Jesus living his life in and through me now, rather than the past historic event of Jesus of Nazareth living his life and dying for me.  When the legitimate subjective dimension of our salvation begins to eclipse the historically and spiritually prior objective dimension, we are in trouble. The New Testament calls on the repenting sinner to believe in Christ, to trust him for salvation.” In footnote 13 on page 177, Goldsworthy notes how Jesus himself drew Nicodemus’ attention away from the subjective nature of regeneration to the content of the gospel. Goldsworthy writes, “I have heard, more than once, this exhortation [to ask God for the New Birth] given on the basis of John 3:7. ‘Do not marvel that I said to you, “You must be born again.’”  But this is not a command to get oneself born again. Jesus tells Nicodemus in the indicative, not the imperative, that it is necessary for one to be born again. When Nicodemus presses the question, ‘How…?’ Jesus finally puts the answer in terms of believing in him” ([v.15] v.16).
76. Ferguson, The Holy Spirit, 124.
77. Ferguson, The Holy Spirit, 126.
78. Paul Enns, The Moody Handbook of Theology (Chicago: Moody Press, 1989), 335. Enns leans on Berkhof here, quoting from his Systematic Theology, p. 436, “Special grace is irresistible . . . .by changing the hearting it makes man perfectly willing to accept Jesus Christ unto salvation and to yield obedience to the will of God.’”
79. John Piper, When I Don’t Desire God: How to Fight for Joy (Wheaton: Crossway, 2004), 217.
80. John Piper, When I Don’t Desire God, 218.
81. Oswald Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 182-183.
82. Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, III:564.