Is "Legal Righteousness" Something Ultimately Distinct from "Moral Goodness"? A Response to Charles Hodge's Defense of the Protestant Doctrine of Justification

Charles Hodge was one of the best Reformed theologians of the past couple of centuries.  He was brilliant and perceptive, and his ideas often have nuances and insights that are unique and very helpful.  Therefore, it is not surprising that one of the most interesting defenses, in my view, of the Protestant doctrine of justification should be found in his writings.  Catholics have historically criticized the Protestant doctrine of justification (understood in an "anti-Augustinian" way) as being absurd because it teaches that, in justification, God regards us as righteous not because we are actually righteous, but because Christ is righteous for us and his righteousness is counted ours by a legal imputation.  Catholics have typically regarded this view as a kind of "legal fiction," for it seems to involve God pretending that we are something we're not.  God can see that we're not righteous, and that our moral character is actually hateful to him and deserving of his displeasure, but, by a kind of legal trick, he decides to treat us as if we were perfectly righteous, completely morally pleasing, and worthy of pleasure and acceptance.  To get a sense of this, picture, for example, someone trying to pretend that Adolf Hitler was Mother Teresa and treating him as if he were.  This doctrine seems to involve God acting as if he is blind, playing games with the truth, etc.

Well, here is one of Hodge's responses to this objection:

Another standing objection to the Protestant doctrine has been so often met, that nothing but its constant repetition justifies a repetition of the answer. It is said to be absurd that one man should be righteous with the righteousness of another; that for God to pronounce the unjust just is a contradiction. This is a mere play on words. It is, however, very serious play; for it is caricaturing truth. It is indeed certain that the subjective, inherent quality of one person or thing cannot by imputation become the inherent characteristic of any other person or thing. Wax cannot become hard by the imputation of the hardness of a stone, nor can a brute become rational by the imputation of the intelligence of a man; nor the wicked become good by the imputation of the goodness of other men. But what has this to do with one man’s assuming the responsibility of another man? If among men the bankrupt can become solvent by a rich man’s assuming his responsibilities, why in the court of God may not the guilty become righteous by the Son of God’s assuming their responsibilities? If He was made sin for us, why may we not be made the righteousness of God in Him? The objection assumes that the word “just” or “righteous” in this connection, expresses moral character; whereas in the Bible, when used in relation to this subject, it is always used in a judicial sense, i.e., it expresses the relation of the person spoken of to justice. Δίκαιος is antithetical to ὑπόδικος. The man with regard to whom justice is unsatisfied, is ὑπόδικος, “guilty.” He with regard to whom justice is satisfied, is δίκαιος, “righteous.” To declare righteous, therefore, is not to declare holy; and to impute righteousness is not to impute goodness; but simply to regard and pronounce chose [sic] who receive the gift of Christ’s righteousness, free from condemnation and entitled to eternal life for his sake.  (Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology: Volume III [Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1940], 175, found here on the website of the Christian Classics Ethereal Library.)

The fundamental problem with Hodge's response is that he tries--with a good degree of rhetorical effectiveness, certainly--to separate and distinguish what cannot be distinguished: "legal righteousness" and "moral goodness."  But, while it is true that one can look at moral goodness from the vantage point of different aspects of it, sometimes emphasizing its intrinsic nature, sometimes emphasizing its evaluation according to a standard of law, ultimately "legal righteousness" and "moral goodness" are the same thing.  There's no reasonable way to construe them to be something ultimately or fundamentally distinct.  This can be shown by looking both at Scripture and at reason.

If we look at Scripture, we find that God has a moral law which is the ultimate standard of "righteousness" and "sin."  We also find that the righteousness which meets the demands of God's moral law boils down to love--love of God supremely, and then following from that love of one's neighbor.  Christ himself, of course, sums up the law in these two greatest commandments (Matthew 22:35-40).  St. Paul, likewise, makes love the summary of the law (Romans 13:9-10).  And this idea, of course, is rooted in the Old Testament (see, for example, Micah 6:8).  And this makes perfect sense if we look at how righteousness and sin are viewed throughout Scripture.  The moral law determines what brings God's wrath and what brings God's pleasure and acceptance (Ephesians 5:1-10, and throughout Scripture).  And the subject matter of the moral law is obviously of supreme importance to God, since it determines whether a person receives eternal life or eternal death.  Righteousness is that of which the moral law approves and to which it pronounces the reward of eternal life.  Sin is that of which the moral law disapproves and to which it pronounces the punishment of eternal death.  And the moral law reveals what God loves (what pleases him) and what he hates (what brings his wrath).  So what is righteousness?  What is it that God loves so much as to make it the determining factor between eternal life and eternal death?  It is an attitude of love to God and neighbor.  It involves outward actions (works), but the outward acts are important only as an indicator of inward attitude.  For ignorance diminishes culpability (Luke 12:47-48; John 9:41; etc.)  Why?  Because ignorance implies less evil will involved.  And bad actions that involve no will at all (like simple accidents) have no culpability.  Actions done by inanimate objects are not subject to the moral law--because there is no will.  So it is the attitude of the will that matters.  At the judgment, we will be judged according to our works.  It is not our outward actions that are being judged by themselves; it is we who are being judged for doing them.  If I commit murder, it is not the event of someone being killed which is judged--for a tornado can kill a man, but this is not a matter of moral guilt--but it is evil will manifested which is being judged (which is why, for example, the Law of Moses does not condemn a person who kills purely accidentally).  This is why, when we repent of our sins, put them to death, and turn to God, seeking to make up for what we have done and restore our right relationship with him, he takes that into account in his judgment of us.  Repentant sinners are fundamentally different from unrepentant sinners, because the former have renounced sin and embraced supreme love to God, and this fundamentally changes God's judgment of them.  (See Ezekiel 18:26-30, for example.)

But if the righteousness that is the concern of the moral law--which is what justification is all about--is an attitude of love to God, this is indistinguishable from moral goodness.  Scripture nowhere makes any distinction between "righteousness" and "moral goodness."  This is simply a fiction of Hodge's imagination.  All that Scripture describes is a kind of attitude--leading to actions--that pleases God, that he considers good and worthy of reward, and a kind of attitude--leading to actions--that displeases him, that he considers bad and worthy of censure or punishment.  Justification, in Scripture, is all about getting out from under the wrath of God and becoming morally acceptable to him.  But this involves moving from being in a condition that he finds displeasing to being in a condition he finds pleasing.  And what conditions are these?  They are attitudes of the will--supreme love to God, or lack of supreme love to God (and loving something else supremely instead, which is idolatry).

This is how Scripture talks about "righteousness" or "moral goodness."  And reason agrees.  Remember, when we talk about righteousness, we're talking about something that is of the utmost importance to God, since it results in eternal life or eternal death.  Well, what could be that important to God?  God loves himself supremely, since he is the Supreme Being.  He is the fullness and source of all goodness and happiness.  Therefore, he is going to love love to himself supremely and see that attitude as fit and worthy to receive ultimate happiness, and a lack of supreme love to himself, which involves loving something else supremely, he is going to see as fit and worthy to receive ultimate misery.  This fits with what Scripture says--supreme love to God is the heart of the moral law, of what truly pleases God.

And reason also points out to us that, while we can talk about legal categories, ultimately nothing exists besides that which is real.  If a legal category is going to have any ultimate reality or meaning, it must be rooted in something real.  Hodge talks about money as something that can be transferred from one person to another, and he asks why we can't just impute someone's righteousness to someone else just like we impute money from one person's bank account to another person's bank account.  But this ignores the crucial difference between money and righteousness (or moral goodness).  Money in a bank account may be a mere conceptual reality--a sort of practical decision to say that a person can make purchases of a certain amount.  When money is transferred from my bank account to someone else's, the reality is the conceptual transfer itself.  Nothing physical is necessarily actually being moved.  The reality is simply the conceptual number attached to my bank account and the other person's.  A transfer of money means simply that we've transferred the abstract number from one account to the other.  So there's the reality in that case.  (Although, even here, the abstraction is rooted in the reality of what the society will allow a person to buy or not buy--the social interaction is the true reality.)  But other things are more concrete and less abstract.  If I have brown hair and someone else has blond hair, I can't "impute" my brown hair to the other person simply by changing things on a sheet of paper (or in a computer spreadsheet).  The only way for someone to get brown hair is by their actually coming to have brown hair.  Mere "imputation" won't cut it.  It would be simply a legal fiction.  But righteousness is like hair color in this sense.  As we've seen, it is an attitude of the will, an attitude of love to God, as both Scripture and reason testify.  So we can't simply "legally impute" one person's righteousness to another person.  The only way for God to see me as righteous is if I am actually righteous--that is, if I have an attitude of supreme love to God.  That's what God loves most, and the only thing he sees as warranting eternal life.  The will, good or bad, is the ultimate reality that legal categories of "sin" and "righteousness" are getting at.  In a financial judgment, the reality that the judgment is interested in is simply the number that occurs in our bank account (and the social meaning such a number has).  In moral judgment, the reality the judgment is interested in is the attitude of will that we have inside (and which is manifested by the course of our lives, by the record of our works--and not just individual works by themselves but the whole trajectory of our lives, including our repentance from sin and restoration to goodness, moving from an evil attitude at odds with God to a loving attitude which seeks supremely to please him).

The great Reformed theologian Jonathan Edwards understood this:

The thing which makes sin hateful, is that by which it deserves punishment; which is but the expression of hatred. And that which renders virtue lovely, is the same with that on the account of which it is fit to receive praise and reward; which are but the expressions of esteem and love. But that which makes vice hateful, is its hateful nature; and that which renders virtue lovely, is its amiable nature. It is a certain beauty or deformity that are inherent in that good or evil will, which is the soul of virtue and vice (and not in the occasion of it), which is their worthiness of esteem or disesteem, praise, or dispraise, according to the common sense of mankind.  (Jonathan Edwards, Freedom of the Will, Part IV, Section 1)

If Edwards is right, then there is no real distinction, ultimately, between "righteousness" and "moral goodness."  But Edwards's view is the view of both Scripture and reason.

So Hodge's argument here fails because he tries to distinguish what cannot be distinguished.  Scripture, reason, as well as the general concept of "morality" as the idea occurs in the general discourse of the human race, do not allow any kind of real, ultimate distinction between "righteousness" and "moral goodness."  And they agree that moral goodness is not simply a legal abstraction like money in a bank account, but is ultimately an attitude inherent in the will of a person and therefore an inward moral character trait.

For more thoughts on why we can't separate the legal from the real when it comes to righteousness and justification, see here.  For a couple of articles addressing further how our repentance from sin plays a positive role in God's judgment of us according to his moral law, see here and here.  For more arguments for the Catholic, Augustinian doctrine of justification in general and against the anti-Augustinian Protestant view, see here and here.

Published on the feast of St. Eusebius of Vercelli and St. Peter Julian Eymard

ADDENDUM 8/30/21:  A couple more thoughts to add:

1. Hodge's attempt to distinguish between "legal righteousness," which has to do with our justification, and "moral goodness" as an internal trait, which has to do with our sanctification, is problematic for the Anti-Augustinian doctrine of justification.  According to that doctrine, the thing which makes us right with God is fully and only the imputed righteousness of Christ--the "legal righteousness" Hodge describes above.  We're supposed to be fully acceptable to God and to merit heaven by means only of imputed righteousness.  But if this is the only thing that makes us right with God and his moral law, then what is the point of this other thing, "moral goodness," which Hodge distinguishes from legal righteousness?  Does God have two moral laws, one of which is concerned with "legal righteousness," and the other of which is concerned with internal moral goodness?  If that is the case, then it seems to call into question the idea that imputed righteousness is all we need to be right with God.  Apparently, being right with God involves two parts and two different kinds of righteousness--one legal and imputed and the other internal.  Or is imputed righteousness indeed all we need to be fully right with God?  If so, then internal moral goodness would seem to have no moral point.  If the moral law doesn't care about it, then it's not really a moral entity at all.

2. Hodge might respond to some of my comments in the article by pointing out that, in terms of the moral evaluation of one's moral status, one's internal moral condition is not enough.  One cannot commit a crime in the past, causing great harm, and get out of paying up on the consequences of that act simply by having an internal moral conversion.  Thus, there is a real distinction between "legal righteousness"--which includes what we owe to the moral law for things we've done in the past--and "internal moral goodness."  The latter category doesn't fully cover the former one.

It is true that, in the moral system God has created, there is a need to "satisfy" for previous offenses and acts.  This is evident to human moral intuition as well.  If I did something to hurt someone by my past acts, when I come to repent of the evil will that led to those acts, I also feel myself responsible to try to fix and make up for the harm I previously caused.  And we wouldn't think my repentance genuine if I wasn't concerned to fix the harm of my previous acts.  And God has designed things so that repentance and internal conversion involve a facing up to what one was previously and one's previous acts.  In the Catholic system, an essential part of repentance is the willingness to make "satisfaction" for one's past sins.  However, this does not imply that "legal righteousness" is something ultimately distinct from "internal moral goodness" in the way Hodge envisions.  While God takes into account my attempts to satisfy for or make up for or fix my previous evil acts, it is still the internal will that he is evaluating, not something external to the will.  "Satisfaction" is simply part of the process of conversion that turns a previous evil will into a good will.  God's design requires that that conversion involve a facing of what went before (which makes sense, since we are temporal beings whose lives are a narrative).  But, in terms of God's moral evaluation of us, it is our will to satisfy for our past acts that matters, not how successful we are in actually making up for particular things.  We reject our sins and put them to death, hating our previous life and choosing a new life.  This involves trying to fix the particular harms caused by past acts, but these acts are not always fixable.  We can't restore a life taken, or always recover a lost friendship or a destroyed reputation, or pay back all that was stolen.  But, reason says, if we choose to do what we can, our moral status is the same, regardless of what we are able to successfully accomplish.  I am not a worse moral person if I try to restore a ruined reputation and fail than if I try equally to do so and succeed.  And Scripture nowhere indicates that success at repairing past harms is, in addition to the conversion of the will, a requirement for making us right before God's moral law.  Scripture rather focuses on the conversion of the will, our sorrow for past sins, our choice and effort to put our previous evil life to death and be reborn to new life, our repentant heart, as that which matters.  (Again, see, for example, Ezekiel 18:26-30.)  It is always the will which is the dwelling-place of moral guilt or virtue.  Again, even though tornadoes are often more destructive than people, we don't say that therefore there is more moral blame.  There is no blame at all, because blame lies only in the will.  And it's the same with moral virtue.  Even if a tornado could somehow fix all the destruction it caused, there would be no moral satisfaction or virtue, because there is no will.  When a person makes up for past errors, it's in the repentant will that the moral virtue lies.  The moral evaluation is entirely concerned with the condition of the will, and outward acts are only important insofar as they manifest that.

So, again, there is no basis for the idea of "legal righteousness" as something fundamentally distinct from the internal moral character of the will.

ADDENDUM 3/11/22:  Following up with #2 in the previous addendum, I would note that Catholic theology gives us a perfect system for combining the two observations we've been discussing--that 1. there is no ultimate distinction between "legal righteousness" and "moral beauty of will," and 2. that there is a kind of satisfaction required even for converted beings who did evil previously.  It's the Catholic distinction between the eternal consequences of sin and the temporal consequences of sin.  When you are in a state of mortal sin, you are at enmity with God.  Your will is evil fundamentally.  You've rejected the Supreme Good.  This condition puts one on a road to hell, and hell will be the destination unless there is repentance.  The will is evil, and in that state it is morally ugly to God and deserving of punishment and misery (both the moral and the natural or logical consequence of a will that has rejected and opposed the Supreme Good).  And it will remain that way until it is converted and ceases to be morally ugly.  Mortal sin deserves and leads to eternal punishment.  But when a will is converted to a state of friendship with God, the moral ugliness is removed.  God now finds the will pleasing, and thus deserving of reward and happiness.  It no longer belongs in hell but in heaven, for it is full of God's goodness.  Nevertheless, there is a narrative continuity between the converted will and the previous unconverted will; the same person used to be at enmity with God and is now in friendship with God.  And therefore the converted will must own up to and face the consequences of that narrative continuity.  The will must sorrow for its previous sins and repent of them, putting them to death.  Only through that death can it rise into its new life.  The person must acknowledge his previous sins, ask forgiveness for them, and seek to satisfy for them, to make up for them, as best he can.  (And, although I'm oversimplifying here and imagining the converted will as if it were perfect in every way, in reality conversion is a lifelong process where the person, now in friendship with God, must unlearn bad habits, learn new good habits, grow in the practice of the virtues, and in general learn to overcome the effects of sin and the Fall upon himself, and this is all part of learning to live a holy life.)  Catholic theology calls these remaining consequences of sin and the need to face up to and work to satisfy for them the "temporal consequences of sin."

There is a fundamental difference between the temporal consequences and the eternal consequences of sin, or between temporal "punishments" and satisfactions and being out of friendship with God and under condemnation of eternal punishment.  The temporal consequences of sin do not indicate that God still finds the will morally ugly, as being under a sentence of eternal punishment does.  Nor is God treating the converted will as if it itself is evil.  Rather, these temporal consequences and the need to satisfy for them are simply an expression of the narrative continuity between the old state of the will and the new state of the will and are necessary for the new will to come into its own.  They do not indicate that there is some kind of righteousness or unrighteousness distinct from the actual moral beauty or ugliness of the will.  There is a parallel here to the concept of original sin.  The whole human race inherits the consequences of Adam's sin, and yet no one but Adam is actually blamed for Adam's particular sin.  God does not view my will as responsible for Adam's sin as if it was the source of it.  As a descendent of Adam, I simply inherit the consequences of his choice because of the narrative continuity between Adam and myself as I am a descendent of Adam.  (And this sort of thing manifests itself all over the place in human life, as we see people receiving the good or bad consequences of what other people have done--especially children inheriting good or bad from their parents or ancestors.)  The parallel breaks down somewhat in that there is an even stronger narrative connection between my later life and my earlier life, since both parts of my life are part of the narrative of me personally and are thus part of my larger identity, and yet the parallel is instructive, for it shows how a person can carry the baggage of previous choices and actions without being seen as the morally ugly source of those choices and actions.  My later converted will (especially when perfected in heaven) is not morally ugly but morally beautiful, and God does not attribute the moral ugliness of my unconverted will to my converted will, and yet my converted will carries baggage from its previous state of being and must deal with that.

In short, while eternal punishment for mortal sin involves God seeing fundamental moral ugliness in the will and treating it accordingly, temporal consequences and satisfaction for sin imply no such thing, but only a need to deal with baggage due to the narrative continuity between the old state of the will and the new state of the will.  Thus, the concept of temporal consequences and satisfaction for sin does not imply any ultimate distinction between "legal righteousness" and "moral beauty of the will."  In the (Anti-Augustinian) Protestant view, however, even the will in heaven perfected by grace is seen as still meriting eternal punishment in hell in itself apart from an additional legal, imputed righteousness.  This does imply that God still finds even the perfected will morally ugly--unless, as Hodge tries to do, we will make an ultimately meaningless and incoherent, and rationally and biblically groundless, distinction between "legal righteousness" and "moral beauty of will."  But this is meaningless, since both the biblical and the rational and intuitive concept of "righteousness" simply means nothing other than "moral beauty of will."  An ultimate distinction between "legal righteousness" and "moral beauty of will" is just as absurd as trying to make some ultimate distinction between being legally accounted physically beautiful and actually being physically beautiful.  Being legally accounted physically beautiful can have no real meaning apart from a reference to actual physical beauty, and so, if the former is separated entirely from the latter, it becomes nothing but a meaningless and absurd legal fiction.

ADDENDUM 6/4/22:  Another problem is that if we owe something to justice in terms of being sorry for and trying to make up for (repair the damage of) our past sins, this debt, by its very nature, is something that cannot be paid by someone other than ourselves.  It is not something someone else can do for us in place of our personally doing it.  If I have an obligation in justice to be sorry for my sins and to try as best I can to make up for them, precisely because they are my past sins personally, this is not going to be satisfied by someone else being sorry for my sins and trying to make up for them for me.  Imagine if I were to get to the seat of God's judgment, and God were to say, "Well, he wasn't himself actually sorry for his sins, nor did he try to make up for them, but Jesus did these things in his place, so that's OK.  His debt is fully paid."  This is absurd, because we recognize that the whole point is that my will--the actual will of the person who actually committed the crimes--has the obligation to face up to what it has done, be sorry, and try to make amends.  This is all about me, personally, acknowledging and facing up to the consequences of my actions and the harm I've done, personally hating and being sorry for those actions as my own past actions, and trying to fix what I have messed up precisely because I was the one who messed them up in the first place.  It's that attitude in my will that is important, because it is an essential part of moral goodness that we hate our past sins and try to distance ourselves from them and fix them.  Again, as we pointed out above, this is not really about what we can fix objectively, since we cannot always repair all the damage we've caused and this is not fully under our control.  What this is about is an attitude required in a converted will that has an evil past.  Jesus cannot have this attitude for me, because the whole point is that the person who committed the crimes must own up to them and take responsibility.  If I myself don't have this attitude, I'm not paying the debt I owe in justice.  So the aspect of "satisfaction" that comes along with conversion can no more be transferred from one person to another purely legally than can the moral goodness of the will in general.

More from Charles Hodge on Accepting Catholics as Christians

That many Roman Catholics, past and present, are true Christians, is a palpable fact. It is a fact which no man can deny without committing a great sin. It is a sin against Christ not to acknowledge as true Christians those who bear his image, and whom He recognizes as his brethren. It is a sin also against ourselves. We are not born of God unless we love the children of God. If we hate and denounce those whom Christ loves as members of his own body, what are we? It is best to be found on the side of Christ, let what will happen. It is perfectly consistent, then, for a man to denounce the papacy as the man of sin, and yet rejoice in believing, and in openly acknowledging, that there are, and ever have been, many Romanists who are the true children of God.

That Romanists as a society profess the true religion, meaning thereby the essential doctrines of the gospel, those doctrines which if truly believed will save the soul, is, as we think, plain. . . .  If this creed were submitted to any intelligent Christian without his knowing whence it came, could he hesitate to say that it was the creed of a Christian church? Could he deny that these are the very terms in which for ages the general faith of Christendom has been expressed? Could he, without renouncing the Bible, say that the sincere belief of these doctrines would not secure eternal life? Can any man take it upon himself in the sight of God, to assert there is not truth enough in the above summary to save the soul? If not, then a society professing that creed professes the true religion in the sense stated above.

--Charles Hodge

As I mentioned here, Charles Hodge, while being a great critic of the Catholic Church and Catholic doctrine, held that the Catholic Church is a part of the visible church of Christ.  In order to further illustrate Hodge's view of "Romanists" as Christians, I am collecting here a series of quotations which show Hodge's attitude.  You can see in these quotations both Hodge's antipathy to Catholicism as well as his recognition that the Catholic Church is part of the visible church of Christ and that there are brothers and sisters in Christ within it.  May Hodge's ability to be nuanced and careful and charitable in his approach to "Romanists" be a model to all of us in our dealings with those with whom we disagree.

This is just a sampling after about a half-an-hour of research.  There is, of course, much more out there that Hodge has said about "Romanists."  I'll continue to add quotations as I come across them in the future.  Keep in mind that many of these quotations are somewhat "by the way" in that they occur in the context of Hodge's discussion of other subjects.  See the links to find the larger context of each quotation.  Also, keep in mind that I do not, of course, necessarily agree with many of Hodge's characterizations of Catholic doctrine or his criticisms of Catholic doctrine.  But this is not the place to refute his errors in this regard.

The true method in theology requires that the facts of religious experience should be accepted as facts, and when duly authenticated by Scripture, be allowed to interpret the doctrinal statements of the Word of God. So legitimate and powerful is this inward teaching of the Spirit, that it is no uncommon thing to find men having two theologies, -- one of the intellect, and another of the heart. The one may find expression in creeds and systems of divinity, the other in their prayers and hymns. It would be safe for a man to resolve to admit into his theology nothing which is not sustained by the devotional writings of true Christians of every denomination. It would be easy to construct from such writings, received and sanctioned by Romanists, Lutherans, Reformed, and Remonstrants, a system of Pauline or Augustinian theology, such as would satisfy any intelligent and devout Calvinist in the world.  (Systematic Theology, Vol. I (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1940), pp. 16-17 [in the Hendrickson 2003 reprint], taken from the plain text version on the website of the Christian Classics Ethereal Library.)

The first remark which suggests itself on the comparison of these several schemes is, that the relation between the believer and Christ is far more close, peculiar, and constant on the Protestant scheme than on any other. He is dependent on Him every hour; for the imputation of his righteousness; for the supplies of the Spirit of life; and for his care, guidance, and intercession. He must look to Him continually; and continually exercise faith in Him as an ever present Saviour in order to live. According to the other schemes, Christ has merely made the salvation of all men possible. There his work ended. According to Romanists, He has made it possible that God should give sanctifying grace in baptism; according to the Remonstrants, He has rendered it possible for Him to give sufficient grace to all men whereby to sanctify and save themselves. We are well aware that this is theory; that the true people of God, whether Romanists or Remonstrants, do not look on Christ thus as a Saviour afar off. They doubtless have the same exercises towards Him that their fellow believers have; nevertheless, such is the theory. The theory places a great gulf between the soul and Christ.  (Systematic Theology, Vol. III (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1940), pp. 193-194 [in the Hendrickson 2003 reprint], taken from the plain text version on the website of the Christian Classics Ethereal Library.)

Fourthly, the Protestant doctrine is the only one on which the soul can live. This has been urged before when speaking of the work of Christ. It is fair to appeal from theology to hymnology from the head to the heart; from what man thinks to what God makes men feel. It is enough to say on this point, that Lutheran and Reformed Christians can find nowhere, out of the Bible, more clear, definite, soul-satisfying expression of their doctrinal views upon this subject, than are to be found in many, of the hymns of the Latin and Arminian churches.  (Ibid., 194-195)

As all denominations of Christians, Romanists and Protestants, are of one mind on this subject, it is matter of astonishment that these objectionable divorce laws are allowed to stand on the statute-books of so many of our states. This fact proves either that public attention has not to a sufficient degree been called to the subject, or that the public conscience is lamentably blinded or seared. The remedy is with the Church, which is the witness of God on earth, bound to testify to his truth and to uphold his law. If Christians, in their individual capacity and in their Church courts, would unite in their efforts to arouse and guide public sentiment on this subject, there is little doubt that these objectionable laws would be repealed.  (Ibid., 406)

Ritualism is a broad, smooth, and easy road to heaven, and is always crowded. It was much easier in Paul's time to be a Jew outwardly than to be one inwardly; and circumcision of the flesh was a slight matter when compared to the circumcision of the heart. A theory which allows a man to be religious, without being holy; to serve both God and mammon; to gain heaven without renouncing the world, will never fail to find numerous supporters. That there is such a theory: that it has prevailed extensively and influentially in the Church; and that it is prevalent over a large part of Christendom, cannot be disputed. It does not follow, however, that all who are called ritualists, or who in fact attribute undue importance to external rites, are mere formalists. Many of them are, no doubt, not only sincere, but spiritual Christian men. This is no proof that the system is not false and evil, All Protestants cheerfully admit that many Romanists are holy men; but they no less strenuously denounce Romanism as an apostasy from the pure Gospel.  (Ibid., 583)

Dr. John Henry Newman says, that if Protestants insist on making the Church of Rome Antichrist, they thereby make over all Roman Catholics, past and present, "to utter and hopeless perdition." [842] This does not follow. The Church of Rome is to be viewed under different aspects; as the papacy, an external organized hierarchy, with the pope, with all his arrogant claims, at its head; and also as a body of men professing certain religious doctrines. Much may be said of it in the one aspect, which is not true of it in the other. Much may be said of Russia as an empire that cannot be said of all Russians. At one time the first Napoleon was regarded by many as Antichrist; that did not involve the belief that all Frenchmen who acknowledged him as emperor, or all soldiers who followed him as their leader, were the sons of perdition. That many Roman Catholics, past and present, are true Christians, is a palpable fact. It is a fact which no man can deny without committing a great sin. It is a sin against Christ not to acknowledge as true Christians those who bear his image, and whom He recognizes as his brethren. It is a sin also against ourselves. We are not born of God unless we love the children of God. If we hate and denounce those whom Christ loves as members of his own body, what are we? It is best to be found on the side of Christ, let what will happen. It is perfectly consistent, then, for a man to denounce the papacy as the man of sin, and yet rejoice in believing, and in openly acknowledging, that there are, and ever have been, many Romanists who are the true children of God.  (Ibid., 822)

The whole system, so far as it is distinctive, is a system of falsehood, or false pretensions, supported by deceit.  [After the word "distinctive" in the text, there is this footnote:]  This qualification is necessary. Papists of course hold the truths of natural religion; and many of the distinguishing doctrines of the Gospel. This is to be acknowledged. We are not to deny that truth is truth, because held by Romanists; nor are we to deny, that where truth is, there may be its fruits. While condemning Papacy, Protestants can, and do joyfully admit that there are among Romanists such godly men as St. Bernard, Fénélon, and Pascal, and doubtless thousands more known only unto God.  (Ibid., 817)

By the Church doctrine [Hodge refers to the doctrine of the final judgment] is meant that doctrine which is held by the Church universal; by Romanists and Protestants in the West, and by the Greeks in the East. That doctrine includes the following points:  (Ibid., 845)

The doctrine of Romanists on this subject [that is, the subject of works not being the ground of justification] is much higher. Romanism retains the supernatural element of Christianity throughout. Indeed it is a matter of devout thankfulness to God that underneath the numerous grievous and destructive errors of the Romish Church, the great truths of the Gospel are preserved. The Trinity, the true divinity of Christ, the true doctrine concerning his person as God and man in two distinct natures and one person forever; salvation through his blood, regeneration and sanctification through the almighty power of the Spirit, the resurrection of the body, and eternal life, are doctrines on which the people of God in that communion live, and which have produced such saintly men as St. Bernard, Fénélon, and doubtless thousands of others who are of the number of God's elect. Every true worshipper of Christ must in his heart recognize as a Christian brother, wherever he may be found, any one who loves, worships, and trusts the Lord Jesus Christ as God manifest in the flesh and the only Saviour of men. On the matter of justification the Romish theologians have marred and defaced the truth as they have almost all other doctrines pertaining to the mode in which the merits of Christ are made available to our salvation. They admit, indeed, that there is no good in fallen man; that he can merit nothing and claim nothing on the ground of anything he is or can do of himself. He is by nature dead in sin; and until made partaker of a new life by the supernatural power of the Holy Ghost, he can do nothing but sin. For Christ's sake, and only through his merits, as a matter of grace, this new life is imparted to the soul in regeneration (i.e., as Romanists teach, in baptism). As life expels death; as light banishes darkness, so the entrance of this new divine life into the soul expels sin (i.e., sinful habits), and brings forth the fruits of righteousness. Works done after regeneration have real merit, "meritum condigni," and are the ground of the second   justification the first justification consisting in making the soul inherently just by the infusion of righteousness. According to this view, we are not justified by works done before regeneration, but we are justified for gracious works, i.e., for works which spring from the principle of divine life infused into the heart. The whole ground of our acceptance with God is thus made to be what we are and what we do.  (Ibid., 135-136)

There is a fourth established meaning of the word church, which has more direct reference to the question before us. It often means an organized society professing the true religion, united for the purpose of worship and discipline, and subject to the same form of government and to some common tribunal. . . .  

All we contend for is that the church is the body of Christ, that those in whom the Holy Spirit dwells are members of that body; and consequently that whenever we have evidence of the presence of the Spirit, there we have evidence of the presence of the church. And if these evidences occur in a society professing certain doctrines by which men are thus born unto God, it is God’s own testimony that such society is still a part of the visible church. It strikes us as one of the greatest absurdities of Ritualism, whether among Romanists or Anglicans, that it sets up a definition of the church, not at all commensurate with its actual and obvious extent. What more glaring absurdity can be uttered than that the Episcopal church in this country is here the only church, when nine tenths of the true religion of the country exists without its pale. It may be man’s church, but God’s church is much wider. Wherever, therefore, there is a society professing truth, by which men are actually born unto God, that society is within the definition of the church given in our standards, and if as a society, it is united under one tribunal for church purposes, it is itself a church. 

The next step in the argument is, of course, the consideration of the question, whether the church of Rome comes within the definition, the correctness of which we have endeavored to establish? It was very common with the reformers and their successors to distinguish between the papacy, and the body of people professing Christianity under its dominion. When, by the church of Rome they meant the papacy, the denounced it as the mystical Babylon, and synagogue of Satan; when they meant by it the people, considered as a community professing the essential doctrines of the gospel, they admitted it to be a church. This distinction is natural and just, though it imposes the necessity of affirming and denying the same proposition. If by the church of Rome, you mean one thing, it is not a church; if you mean another, it is a church. People will not trouble themselves, however, with such distinctions, though they often unconsciously make them, and are forced to act upon them. Thus by the word England, we sometimes mean the country, sometimes the government, and sometimes the people. If we mean by it the government, we may say (in reference to some periods of its history), that it is unjust, cruel, persecuting, rapacious, opposed to Christ and his kingdom: when these things could not be said with truth of the people [4]. 

Though we regard the above distinction as sound, and though we can see no more real contradiction in saying Rome is a church, and is not a church, than in saying a man is mortal and yet immortal, spiritual yet carnal, a child of God yet sold under sin; yet as the distinction is not necessary for the sake either of truth or perspicuity, we do not intend to avail ourselves of it. All that we have to beg is, that brethren would not quote against us the sweeping declarations and denunciations of our Protestant fore-fathers against popery as the man of sin, antichrist, the mystical Babylon, and synagogue of Satan, as proof of our departure from the Protestant faith. In all those denunciations we could consistently join; just as our fathers, as Professor Thornwell acknowledges, while uttering those denunciations, still admitted Rome, in one sense, to be a church. Our present object is to enquire whether the church of Rome, taking the term as Bishop Sanderson says, Conjunctim pro toto aggregato, just as we take the term, church of England, falls within the definition of a church given above. . . . 

That Romanists as a society profess the true religion, meaning thereby the essential doctrines of the gospel, those doctrines which if truly believed will save the soul, is, as we think, plain. 1. Because they believe the Scriptures to be the word of God. 2. They direct that the Scriptures should be understood and received as they were understood by the Christian Fathers. 3. They receive the three general creeds of the church, the Apostle’s, the Nicene, and the Athanasian, or as these are summed up in the creed of Pius V. 4. They believe in one God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible. In one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, begotten of his Father before all worlds, God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God, begotten not made, being of one substance with the Father, by whom all things were made. Who for us men, and for our salvation, came down from heaven, and was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, and was made man. And was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate, suffered and was buried. And the third day rose again with glory to judge both the quick and the dead, whose kingdom shall have no end. And they believe in one catholic apostolic church. They acknowledge one baptism for the remission of sins, and look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. 

If this creed were submitted to any intelligent Christian without his knowing whence it came, could he hesitate to say that it was the creed of a Christian church? Could he deny that these are the very terms in which for ages the general faith of Christendom has been expressed? Could he, without renouncing the Bible, say that the sincere belief of these doctrines would not secure eternal life? Can any man take it upon himself in the sight of God, to assert there is not truth enough in the above summary to save the soul? If not, then a society professing that creed professes the true religion in the sense stated above. 5. We argue from the acknowledged fact that God has always had, still has, and is to have a people in that church until its final destruction; just as he had in the midst of corrupt and apostate Israel. We admit that Rome has grievously apostatized from the faith, the order and the worship of the church; that she has introduced a multitude of false doctrines, a corrupt and superstitious and even idolatrous worship, and a most oppressive and cruel government; but since as a society she still retains the profession of saving doctrines, and as in point of fact, by those doctrines men are born unto God and nurtured for heaven, we dare not deny that she is still a part of the visible church. We consider such a denial a direct contradiction of the Bible, and of the facts of God’s providence. It was within the limits of the church the great anti-christian power was to arise; it was in the church the man of sin was to exalt himself; and it was over the church he was to exercise his baneful and cruel power.  (From Is the Church of Rome a Part of the Visible Church?)

Published (at least the first part) on the feast of St. Teresa of Avila.

Presbyterian Theologian Charles Hodge on Accepting Catholics as Christians

That many Roman Catholics, past and present, are true Christians, is a palpable fact. It is a fact which no man can deny without committing a great sin. It is a sin against Christ not to acknowledge as true Christians those who bear his image, and whom He recognizes as his brethren. It is a sin also against ourselves. We are not born of God unless we love the children of God. If we hate and denounce those whom Christ loves as members of his own body, what are we? It is best to be found on the side of Christ, let what will happen. It is perfectly consistent, then, for a man to denounce the papacy as the man of sin, and yet rejoice in believing, and in openly acknowledging, that there are, and ever have been, many Romanists who are the true children of God.

That Romanists as a society profess the true religion, meaning thereby the essential doctrines of the gospel, those doctrines which if truly believed will save the soul, is, as we think, plain. . . .  If this creed were submitted to any intelligent Christian without his knowing whence it came, could he hesitate to say that it was the creed of a Christian church? Could he deny that these are the very terms in which for ages the general faith of Christendom has been expressed? Could he, without renouncing the Bible, say that the sincere belief of these doctrines would not secure eternal life? Can any man take it upon himself in the sight of God, to assert there is not truth enough in the above summary to save the soul? If not, then a society professing that creed professes the true religion in the sense stated above.

--Charles Hodge

The great Presbyterian theologian Charles Hodge held the view that the Roman Catholic Church is a part of the visible church of Christ.  (You can read his statement and argument for this position here.)

What does it mean for a church to be part of the "visible church of Christ"?  What is the "visible church"?  Hodge's terminology traces back to classic Protestant usage, and particularly to the classic Presbyterian statement of doctrine, the Westminster Confession of Faith.  Here is how the Confession describes the invisible church and the visible church:

1. The catholic or universal Church which is invisible, consists of the whole number of the elect, that have been, are, or shall be gathered into one, under Christ the Head thereof; and is the spouse, the body, the fulness of Him that filleth all in all. 

2. The visible Church, which is also catholic or universal under the gospel (not confined to one nation as before under the law), consists of all those throughout the world that profess the true religion; and of their children: and is the kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ, the house and family of God, out of which there is no ordinary possibility of salvation. 

3. Unto this catholic visible Church Christ hath given the ministry, oracles, and ordinances of God, for the gathering and perfecting of the saints, in this life, to the end of the world: and doth by His own presence and Spirit, according to His promise, make them effectual thereunto. 

4. This catholic Church hath been sometimes more, sometimes less visible. And particular Churches, which are members thereof, are more or less pure, according as the doctrine of the gospel is taught and embraced, ordinances administered, and public worship performed more or less purely in them. 

5. The purest Churches under heaven are subject both to mixture and error: and some have so degenerated, as to become no Churches of Christ, but synagogues of Satan. Nevertheless, there shall be always a Church on earth, to worship God according to His will.  (Westminster Confession, Chapter 25)

The "visible church" is the true church of Christ as far as it can be seen in this world.  It is "the kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ, the house and family of God."  Its members are "all those who profess the true religion" as well as "their children."  The visible church has the institutions and authority of Christ to do the work of his church.  There are visible churches that are more pure, and some that are less pure.  Hodge regarded the Catholic Church as a much less pure church, but still a part of the visible church.  The alternative to being a visible church is being a synagogue of Satan.  (Consistent with this view of the Catholic Church, according to this source Hodge argued that it was better to support the building of Catholic churches in areas where there was no other church than to have no church at all.)

When Pope Pius IX invited Protestants to sit in on the first Vatican Council (1869-1870), Hodge wrote a letter to him explaining why the American Presbyterian churches must decline the invitation.  Most of the letter consists of criticism of Catholic doctrine and arguments for the Protestant view.  But Hodge ends his letter in an interesting way:

Other and equally cogent reasons might be assigned why we cannot with a good conscience be represented in the proposed Council. But as the Council of Trent, whose canons are still in force, pronounces all accursed who hold the principles above enumerated, nothing further is necessary to show that our declining your invitation is a matter of necessity. 

Nevertheless, although we cannot return to the fellowship of the Church of Rome, we desire to live in charity with all men. We love all those who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. We regard as Christian brethren all who worship, love and obey him as their God and Saviour, and we hope to be united in heaven with all who unite with us on earth in saying, ‘Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen’ (Rev. 1:6).

My family and I are on track to become members in full communion with the Catholic Church this coming March.  According to Hodge, once we do so, we will be members of the visible church of Christ, professors of the true religion, brothers and sisters in Christ (at least insofar as such a thing appears outwardly).  I hope that all our Protestant friends and acquaintances will view us and treat us as such, following Hodge.  And I hope in general that Hodge's attitude will continue to spread among Protestants.

ADDENDUM 10/14/15:  Someone wrote to me and offered a criticism of my post:

You are misrepresenting the teachings of Hodge in your latest post.  Your quotes are selective and ignore his clear charges against Rome.  It is one thing to recognize Roman Catholic baptism; it is something altogether different to respect your purposeful abandonment of truth for the superstitions and corruptions of Rome.  You have no basis for arguing that he would accept your embrace of Rome. 

I have no desire to debate anything with you, but I think your post would be more honest if you included Hodge's statement in the same context: "We admit that Rome has grievously apostatized from the faith, the order and the worship of the church; that she has introduced a multitude of false doctrines, a corrupt and superstitious and even idolatrous worship, and a most oppressive and cruel government. . ."

There is no doubt that Hodge was no fan of Roman Catholicism.  I didn't ignore that fact in my post.  I indicated that, according to the Westminster Confession, "[t]here are visible churches that are more pure, and some that are less pure.  Hodge regarded the Catholic Church as a much less pure church, but still a part of the visible church."  I indicated that Hodge spent most of his letter to Pope Pius IX in "criticism of Catholic doctrine and arguments for the Protestant view."  I provided links for those who would wish to read more of what Hodge has said on these matters.

The quotation my correspondent gave above is from the article I linked to in the very second sentence of my post.  Notice the dot dot dot at the end of my correspondent's quotation?  I think it might be instructive to provide the rest of Hodge's sentence (and the next subsequent sentence):

We admit that Rome has grievously apostatized from the faith, the order and the worship of the church; that she has introduced a multitude of false doctrines, a corrupt and superstitious and even idolatrous worship, and a most oppressive and cruel government; but since as a society she still retains the profession of saving doctrines, and as in point of fact, by those doctrines men are born unto God and nurtured for heaven, we dare not deny that she is still a part of the visible church. We consider such a denial a direct contradiction of the Bible, and of the facts of God’s providence.

What my correspondent would see as two contradicting truths are for Hodge complementary truths.  You can read his article for his whole case.  There is no doubt that Hodge was a great opponent of Catholic doctrine.  In fact, I'll go one step further and point out that (unlike my correspondent) Hodge held the view of the Westminster Confession that the papacy is the biblical Antichrist.  But for Hodge, this doesn't imply that the Catholic Church is not part of the visible church.  Rather the contrary.  Hodge actually argues in favor of the Catholic Church being a part of the visible church from the doctrine that the papacy is Antichrist:  "It was within the limits of the church the great anti-christian power was to arise; it was in the church the man of sin was to exalt himself; and it was over the church he was to exercise his baneful and cruel power."

So no, if you want to go to Hodge to find approval of Roman Catholic doctrine, you are not going to find it there.  But what you will find there is the idea that the Roman Catholic Church is a part of the visible church.  In fact, pointing out the strength of Hodge's antipathy to Roman Catholic doctrine makes that point stronger.  Hodge provides a good model of how we can be nuanced in dealing with people with whom we strongly disagree.  Hodge put it this way (in the last paragraph of his article):

[I]t is said we give up too much to the papists if we admit Romanists to be in the church. To this we answer, Every false position is a weak position. The cause of truth suffers in no way more than from identifying it with error, which is always done when its friends advocate it on false principles. When one says, we favor intemperance, unless we say that the use of intoxicating liquors is sinful; another, that we favor slavery, unless we say slaveholding is a sin; and a third, that we favor popery unless we say the church of Rome is no church, they all, as it seems to us, make the same mistake, and greatly injure the cause in which they are engaged.

ADDENDUM 10/15/15:  I have created a new post containing other quotations from Charles Hodge regarding "Romanists" and the Catholic Church being Christian.  It is here.

ADDENDUM 7/19/2016:  As of this past March, we are members in full communion with the Catholic Church--and therefore, according to Hodge, of the visible church, "the kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ, the house and family of God."

Charles Hodge on Doctrinal Development

In the section quoted below from Presbyterian theologian Charles Hodge's Systematic Theology, Vol. I (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1940), pp.116-117 (in the Hendrickson 2003 reprint), taken from the plain text version on the website of the Christian Classics Ethereal Library, Hodge articulates a view of the development of Christian doctrine very similar to that described by St. Vincent of Lerins (in chapter 23 of his Commonotory) and much later by Blessed John Henry Cardinal Newman in his Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine.  Of course, Hodge is approaching the subject from a Protestant point of view, and so there is no indication of any infallible guidance provided by the Holy Spirit in the church's development of doctrine, but his description of how doctrine develops is very helpful for showing how a state of developed doctrine in the church might look similar to and yet different from a less developed earlier state, much as an embryo looks different from the adult form.  Not all changes are unwarranted innovations!

Obviously, Catholics will disagree with Hodge's attempt to portray the Protestant doctrine of Justification as a warranted development of biblical doctrine, but it is interesting to see how Hodge makes use of the concept of doctrinal development in the church to justify a theological position that was never clearly articulated before Luther.  Ultimately, while we can examine the specific evidence for ourselves with regard to any claimed developed doctrine, Catholics acknowledge that we need the guidance of the Holy Spirit in the church to fully and accurately ascertain the correct developments of doctrine and distinguish them from false distortions or innovations.  Because they do not defer to such infallible guidance from the Spirit upon the church, Protestants' developments of doctrine are necessarily to some degree arbitrary and without adequate warrant.

I might also add that a correct understanding of the development of doctrine helps in answering Eastern Orthodox arguments against alleged Catholic "innovations" in doctrine and practice.  The Eastern Orthodox accusations here tend to be very subjective, because they rely on their own personal judgment (their own personal readings of and inferences from Scripture, the Fathers, etc.) to determine what is a legitimate development and what is an innovation without adequately recognizing the importance of looking to God's guidance of the church in drawing this line, despite their general acknowledgement in other areas of the need for such guidance.  They beg the question against the Catholic Church by assuming they can clearly delineate which Catholic positions are innovations and which are warranted developments as a means of determining whether God has guided the Eastern Orthodox Churches or the Catholic Church, instead of recognizing that one must decide which is the church that is guided by God before one tries to draw that line in order to be able to make use of reliance on God's guidance of the church's tradition in the drawing of the line.  To get these in the wrong order requires one to approach the drawing of the line by means of one's own personal evaluations without the authoritative guidance of the church, much (ironically) as Protestants try to do.

All Protestants admit that there has been, in one sense, an uninterrupted development of theology in the Church, from the apostolic age to the present time. All the facts, truths, doctrines, and principles, which enter into Christian theology, are in the Bible. They are there as fully and is clearly at one time as at another; at the beginning as they are now. No addition has been made to their number, and no new explanation has been afforded of their nature or relations. The same is true of the facts of nature. They are now what they have been from the beginning. They are, however, far better known, and more clearly understood now than they were a thousand years ago. The mechanism of the heavens was the same in the days of Pythagoras as it was in those of La Place; and yet the astronomy of the latter was immeasurably in advance of that of the former. The change was effected by a continual and gradual progress. The same progress has taken place in theological knowledge. Every believer is conscious of such progress in his own experience. When he was a child, he thought as a child. As he grew in years, he grew in knowledge of the Bible. He increased not only in the compass, but in the clearness, order, and harmony of his knowledge. This is just as true of the Church collectively as of the individual Christian. It is, in the first place, natural, if not inevitable, that it should be so. The Bible, although so clear and simple in its teaching, that he who runs may read and learn enough to secure his salvation, is still full of the treasures of the wisdom and knowledge of God; full of ta bathe tou theou, the profoundest truths concerning all the great problems which have taxed the intellect of man from the beginning. These truths are not systematically stated, but scattered, so to speak, promiscuously over the sacred pages, just as the facts of science are scattered over the face of nature, or hidden in its depths. Every man knows that there is unspeakably more in the Bible than he has yet learned, as every man of science knows that there is unspeakably more in nature than he has yet discovered, or understands. It stands to reason that such a book, being the subject of devout and laborious study, century after century, by able and faithful men, should come to be better and better understood. And as in matters of science, although one false theory after another, founded on wrong principles or on an imperfect induction of facts, has passed away, yet real progress is made, and the ground once gained is never lost, so we should naturally expect it to be with the study of the Bible. False views, false inferences, misapprehensions, ignoring of some facts, and misinterpretations, might be expected to come and go, in endless succession, but nevertheless a steady progress in the knowledge of what the Bible teaches be accomplished. And we might also expect that here, too, the ground once surely gained would not again be lost.

But, in the second place, what is thus natural and reasonable in itself is a patent historical fact. The Church has thus advanced in theological knowledge. The difference between the confused and discordant representations of the early fathers on all subjects connected with the doctrines of the Trinity and of the person of Christ, and the clearness, precision, and consistency of the views presented after ages of discussion, and the statement of these doctrines by the Councils of Chalcedon and Constantinople, is as great almost as between chaos and cosmos. And this ground has never been lost. The same is true with regard to the doctrines of sin and grace. Before the long-continued discussion of these subjects in the Augustinian period, the greatest confusion and contradiction prevailed in the teachings of the leaders of the Church; during those discussions the views of the Church became clear and settled. There is scarcely a principle or doctrine concerning the fall of man, the nature of sin and guilt, inability, the necessity of the Spirits influence, etc., etc., which now enters into the faith of evangelical Christians, which was not then clearly stated and authoritatively sanctioned by the Church. In like manner, before the Reformation, similar confusion existed with regard to the great doctrine of justification. No clear line of discrimination was drawn between it and sanctification. Indeed, during the Middle Ages, and among the most devout of the schoolmen, the idea of guilt was merged in the general idea of sin, and sin regarded as merely moral defilement. The great object was to secure holiness. Then pardon would come of course. The apostolic, Pauline, deeply Scriptural doctrine, that there can be no holiness until sin be expiated, that pardon, justification, and reconciliation, must precede sanctification, was never clearly apprehended. This was the grand lesson which the Church learned at the Reformation, and which it has never since forgot. It is true then, as an historical fact, that the Church has advanced. It understands the great doctrines of theology, anthropology, and soteriology, far better now, than they were understood in the early post-apostolic age of the Church.

UPDATE 7/23/15:  Here is an article from an Eastern Orthodox writer also giving a good description of the how the church has developed through the ages, and so doesn't look exactly as she did before but yet retains continuity with what she was before.

Charles Hodge on the Presbyterian Unity of the Church

Here is Charles Hodge on the nature of the unity of the church in the presbyterian view, from What Is Presbyterianism? (taken from the online version found at the blog Semper Reformanda).  Hodge points out clearly and admirably how the church is one body, in contrast to the schismatic errors of congregationalism/independency (and semi-congregationalism).

As then presbyters are all of the same rank, and as they exercise their power in the government of the Church, in connection with the people, or their representatives, this of necessity gives rise to Sessions in our individual congregations, and to Presbyteries, Synods, and Assemblies, for the exercise of more extended jurisdiction. This brings into view the third great principle of Presbyterianism, the government of the Church by judicatories composed of presbyters and elders, &c. This takes for granted the unity of the Church in opposition to the theory of the Independents.

The Presbyterian doctrine on this subject is, that the Church is one in such a sense that a smaller part is subject to a larger, and the larger to the whole. It has one Lord, one faith, one baptism. The principles of government laid down in the Scriptures bind the whole Church. The terms of admission, and the legitimate grounds of exclusion, are everywhere the same. The same qualifications are everywhere to be demanded for admission to the sacred office, and the same grounds for deposition. Every man who is properly received as a member of a particular church, becomes a member of the Church universal; every one rightfully excluded from a particular church, is excluded from the whole Church; every one rightfully ordained to the ministry in one church, is a minister of the universal Church, and when rightfully deposed in one, he ceases to be a minister in any. Hence, while every particular church has a right to manage its own affairs and administer its own discipline, it cannot be independent and irresponsible in the exercise of that right. As its members are members of the Church universal, and those whom it excommunicates are, according to the Scriptural theory, delivered unto Satan, and cut off from the communion of the saints, the acts of a particular church become the acts of the whole Church, and therefore the whole has the right to see that they are performed according to the law of Christ. Hence, on the one hand, the right of appeal; and, on the other, the right of review and control.

This is the Presbyterian theory on this subject; that it is the scriptural doctrine appears, 1. From the nature of the Church. The Church is everywhere represented as one. It is one body, one family, one fold, one king dom. It is one because pervaded by one Spirit. We are all baptized into one Spirit so as to become, says the apostle, one body. This indwelling of the Spirit which thus unites all the members of Christ’s body, produces not only that subjective or inward union which manifests itself in sympathy and affection, in unity of faith and love, but also outward union and communion. It leads Christians to unite for the purposes of worship, and of mutual watch and care. It requires them to be subject one to another in the fear of the Lord. It brings them all into subjection to the word of God as the standard of faith and practice. It gives them not only an interest in each other’s welfare, purity, and edification, but it imposes the obligation to promote these objects. If one member suffers, all suffer with it; and if one member is honoured, all rejoice with it. All this is true, not merely of those frequenting the same place of worship, but of the universal body of believers. So that an independent church is as much a solecism as an independent Christian, or as an independent finger of the human body, or an independent branch of a tree. If the Church is a living body united to the same head, governed by the same laws, and pervaded by the same Spirit, it is impossible that one part should be independent of all the rest.

2. All the reasons which require the subjection of a believer to the brethren of a particular church, require his subjection to all his brethren in the Lord. The ground of this obligation is not the church covenant. It is not the compact into which a number of believers enter, and which binds only those who are parties to it. Church power has a much higher source than the consent of the governed. The Church is a divinely constituted society, deriving its power from its charter. Those who join it, join it as an existing society, and a society existing with certain prerogatives and privileges, which they come to share, and not to bestow. This divinely constituted society, which every believer is bound to join, is not the local and limited association of his own neighbourhood, but the universal brotherhood of believers; and therefore all his obligations of communion and obedience terminate on the whole Church. He is bound to obey his brethren, not because he has agreed to do so, but because they are his brethren—because they are temples of the Holy Ghost, enlightened, sanctified, and guided by Him. It is impossible, therefore, to limit the obedience of a Christian to the particular congregation of which he is a member, or to make one such congregation independent of all others, without utterly destroying the very nature of the Church, and tearing asunder the living members of Christ’s body. If this attempt should be fully accomplished, these separate churches would as certainly bleed to death, as a limb when severed from the body.

3. The Church, during the apostolic age, did not consist of isolated, independent congregations, but was one body, of which the separate churches were constituent members, each subject to all the rest, or to an authority which extended over all. This appears, in the first place, from the history of the origin of those churches. The apostles were commanded to remain in Jerusalem until they received power from on high. On the day of Pentecost the promised Spirit was poured out, and they began to speak as the Spirit gave them utterance. Many thousands in that city were added to the Lord, and they continued in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread and prayer. They constituted the Church in Jerusalem. It was one not only spiritually, but externally, united in the same worship, and subject to the same rulers. When scattered abroad, they preached the word everywhere, and great multitudes were added to the Church. The believers in every place were associated in separate, but not independent churches, for they all remained subject to a common tribunal.

For, secondly, the apostles constituted a bond of union to the whole body of believers. There is not the slightest evidence that the apostles had different dioceses. Paul wrote with full authority to the Church in Rome before he had ever visited the imperial city. Peter addressed his epistles to the churches of Pontus, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, the very centre of Paul’s field of labour. That the apostles exercised this general jurisdiction, and were thus the bond of external union to the Church, arose, as we have seen, from the very nature of their office. Having been commissioned to found and organize the Church, and being so filled with the Spirit as to render them infallible, their word was law. Their inspiration necessarily secured this universal authority. We accordingly find that they everywhere exercised the powers not only of teachers, but also of rulers. Paul speaks of the power given to him for edification; of the things which he ordained in all the churches. His epistles are filled with such orders, which were of binding authority then as now. He threatens the Corinthians to come to them with a rod; he cut off a member of their church, whom they had neglected to discipline; and he delivered. “Hymeneus and Alexander unto Satan, that they might learn not to blaspheme. As a historical fact, therefore, the apostolic churches were not independent congregations, but were all subject to one common authority.

In the third place, this is further evident from the Council at Jerusalem. No thing need be assumed that is not expressly mentioned in the record. The simple facts of the case are, that a controversy having arisen in the church at Antioch, concerning the Mosaic law, instead of settling it among themselves as an independent body, they referred the case to the apostles and elders at. Jerusalem, and there it was authoritatively decided, not for that church only, but for all others. Paul, therefore, in his next missionary journey, as he “passed through the cities, delivered to them,” it is said, “the decrees for to keep, which were ordained of the apostles and elders which were at Jerusalem.” Acts xvi. 4. It matters not whether the authority of that Council was due to the inspiration of its chief members or not. It is enough that it had authority over the whole Church. The several congregations were not independent, but were united under one common tribunal.

4th. In the fourth place, we may appeal to the common consciousness of Christians, as manifested in the whole history of the Church. Everything organic has what may be called nisus formatavus; an inward force, by which it is impelled to assume the form suited to its nature. This inward impulse may, by circumstances, be impeded or misdirected, so that the normal state of a plant or animal may never be attained. Still, this force never fails to manifest its existence, nor the state to which it tends. What is thus true in nature, is no less true in the Church. There is nothing more conspicuous in her history than the law by which believers are impelled to express their inward unity by outward union. It has been manifested in all ages, and under all circumstances. It gave rise to all the early councils. It determined the idea of heresy and schism. It led to the exclusion from all churches of those who, for the denial of the common faith, were excluded from any one, and who refused to acknowledge their subjection to the Church as a whole. This feeling was clearly exhibited at the time of the Reformation. The churches then formed, ran together as naturally as drops of quicksilver; and when this union was prevented by internal or external circumstances, it was deplored as a great evil. It may do for men of the world to attribute this remarkable characteristic in the history of the Church, to the love of power, or to some other unworthy source. But it is not thus to be accounted for. It is a law of the Spirit. If what all men do, is to be referred to some abiding principle of human nature; what all Christians do, must be referred to something which belongs to them as Christians.

So deeply seated is this conviction that outward union and mutual subjection is the normal state of the Church, that it manifests itself in those whose theory leads them to deny and resist it. Their Consociations, Associations, and Advisory Councils, are so many devices to satisfy an inward craving, and to prevent the dissolution to which it is felt that absolute Independency must inevitably lead.

That then, the Church is one, in the sense that a smaller part should be subject to a larger, and a larger to the whole, is evident. 1. From its nature as being one kingdom, one family, one body, having one head, one faith, one written constitution, and actuated by one Spirit; 2d. From the command of Christ that we should obey our brethren, not because they live near to us; not because we have covenanted to obey them; but because they are our brethren, the temples and organs of the Holy Ghost; 3. From the fact that during the apostolic age the churches were not independent bodies, but subject in all matters of doctrine, order, and discipline, to a common tribunal; and 4. Because the whole history of the Church proposes that this union and the subjection is the normal state of the Church towards which it strives by an inward law of its being. If it is necessary that one Christian should be subject to other Christians; it is no less necessary that one church should be subject in the same spirit, to the same extent, and on the same grounds, to other churches.

For more, see here and here.