Princeton, New Jersey hardly had the look of a battlefield in the decades before and after 1900. Set amidst an increasingly urbanized New Jersey, Princeton had a stateliness characterized by tall trees, gardens, and grand old buildings. One alumni of the university, F. Scott Fitzgerald, described it as “two tall spires and then suddenly all around you spreads out the loveliest riot of Gothic architecture in America, battlement linked to battlement, hall to hall, arch-broken, vine-covered—luxuriant and lovely over two square miles of green grass.”
Certainly Princeton treasured its history as the site of one of General Washington’s most audacious military maneuvers and victories in the War for Independence. But it was books, not bullets, that had indelibly stamped the community. Princeton—the name—connoted the university, one that is still highly prestigious in our time. Linked closely to the university was Princeton Seminary, the key training ground for American Presbyterian pastors and scholars.
Princeton Seminary was the bedrock of Reformed theology in America, the hub of Calvinism, the archive of the traditions of the English Puritans and Scottish Covenanters, and the bastion of Protestant orthodoxy. Princeton was respected, honored, even feared for its unswerving, unyielding commitment to the theology of Calvin and Knox and of the Westminster divines.
David Calhoun’s Princeton Seminary: The Majestic Testimony 1869-1929 honors and highlights the accomplishments of this famous school of theology. This is the sequel to an earlier volume titled Princeton Seminary: Faith and Learning 1812-1868. Both volumes, published by the Banner of Truth Trust, detail how Princeton Seminary sought to achieve the highest possible Christian attainments in both scholarship and piety. Seminaries are institutions, but the caliber of any institution, and especially one dedicated to advancing the Kingdom of God, depends upon the stature of the men who occupy the positions of influence. Princeton Seminary was a gathering place for theologians. Like the Inklings in England and the Agrarians of Vanderbilt, it was the community of scholars and thinkers who set a standard that is still admired today.
Names such as Hodge, Alexander, Patton, Greene, Warfield, Machen, and Vos are among the faithful who were both products of the Princeton tradition and teachers who expanded that tradition. The majestic testimony occurred in the chapel, the classrooms, and the prayer closets of the seminary professors. It was a hall of giants, a gathering of theological titans. One longs to have been the custodian sweeping the halls within earshot of the lectures of these men and other equally honorable colleagues. They were, like the saints of Hebrews 11, men of whom the world was not worthy.
J. Gresham Machen said, “The old Princeton Seminary may have been good or it many have been bad—opinions differ about that—but at least it was distinctive and at least it was a power in the affairs of men. It was known throughout the world as the chief stronghold of a really learned and really thorough-going “Calvinism” in the English-speaking peoples. Even its opponents, if they were scholars, spoke of it with respect.”
Calhoun’s book chronicles the successes and challenges to the seminary during the years between the end of the War Between the States and beginning of the Great Depression. The earlier decades saw the culmination of the career of Charles Hodge, a theologian who epitomized the attainments of Princeton. Hodge’s Systematic Theology, growing out of sheaves of lecture notes, commanded attention of students preparing for the ministry both then and now. Charles Hodge, great theologian that he was, was not a powerful pulpit preacher. His skills were manifested more in the classroom than in the pulpit. Hodge was so highly revered that on the fiftieth anniversary of his teaching career at Princeton, the whole town closed down to celebrate his achievements.
Hodge did not just focus on the theology of the Reformation; he wrote a book called What is Darwinism?, one of the first Christian responses to the Darwinian tidal wave. Hodge thought that a consistent Darwinism would inevitably lead to atheism. He did not object to all of the scientific aspects of the theory however. Hodge’s legacy included not only his written works, but his progeny. His sons, Archibald Alexander Hodge (who name bore witness to his father’s mentor) and Caspar Wistar Hodge, both taught at the seminary, as did his grandson, Caspar Wistar Hodge, Jr.
In 1887, Benjamin Breckinridge Warfield began his work as a professor at Princeton. This huge Kentuckian waged decades of warfare against the opponents of the verbal inspiration of Scripture. More and more during the time of Warfield, Calvinistic theology was under attack. In large part, the point of attack was on the authority of Scripture, since Calvinism without Biblical support has no other foundation. Although he was a recognized leader in the Presbyterian Church at large, Warfield completely confined himself to Princeton, due in part to his labors but due mainly to his need to care for his invalid wife. Warfield’s range of intellectual interests included literature, history, and poetry; his writings were mainly in theology and church history. In conjunction with Geerhardus Vos, a Biblical theologian of Dutch heritage, Warfield brought Abraham Kuyper to Princeton where he gave his famous 1896 Stone Lecture series, which still abound in book form, titled Lectures on Calvinism. Warfield influenced quite a few future scholars and teachers. One of his most brilliant admirers was J. Gresham Machen.
During the time when Machen was a professor of New Testament, the war against Princeton theology changed from being a running battle into a siege. Certainly, Princeton was increasingly surrounded by hostile forces both within Presbyterian circles and from without. Certainly, the term siege aptly describes the plight during the last years of Warfield and the tumultuous decade that followed. But the faithful theologians inside the camp did not simply wait for the enemy to break down the gates.. Machen and others fought back quite aggressively. Machen’s books, in particular his Christianity and Liberalism, strongly confronted the various shades of liberal theology that sought to undermine orthodoxy. Machen did not view theological liberalism merely as incorrect theological position: He contended that liberalism, in its denial of Scripture, Christ’s deity, and the atonement, was a different religion altogether.
Machen’s leadership was not without its flaws and critics: His manner in some aspects of the battle, his actions which led ultimately to breaking with the seminary and the northern Presbyterian church, and the legacy of bequeathing to his theological heirs a contentious spirit have all enabled the more comfortable of us to occasionally find fault with him. Yet with both his alleged and actual faults and failings, and despite the losses he endured in his many battles, Machen was a towering Christian man, warrior, and scholar. Like Aeneas fleeing a burning Troy, Machen fled from the destruction of Princeton Seminary, but saved vital remnants for rebuilding its theology.
History is most easily remembered by noting the brightest lights, but thankfully Calhoun includes a number of professors who were the intellectual and spiritual peers to Hodge, Warfield, and Machen. Time does not allow us to comment upon some of the less prominent professors who appear in the book. God raised up a whole host of good and brilliant men who taught at Princeton until its fall.
Still the question haunts the reader: What happened? Calhoun’s book is a tragic history. It is like imagining that sometime after Eisenhower, Patton, and Montgomery had pushed the Nazis to the Rhine River, the Axis Powers won World War II.
Calhoun covers some of the more national Presbyterian controversies, such as the Charles Briggs case, but that greater story goes beyond this book. The General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church had rejected the teachings of modernism in the heresy trials of the church and in key declarations in 1910 and 1916. But the poison still crept in. Calhoun points out the following:
Some presbyteries, however, were ordaining men who accepted the higher critical method and other assumptions of liberalism. The movement from evangelicalism that had been proceeding more or less quietly for half a century was far more general than had been thought, and by the second decade of the twentieth century liberal sentiment in the church was widespread. Doctrinal issues were avoided, heresy prosecutions disappeared, and theological liberals gained leadership positions in the church.
Of course, there never were enough liberals to hijack the church. They found faithful allies amongst those in the church who generally adhered to the Presbyterian standards, but who sought accommodation and peace and unity above doctrinal faithfulness. Fighting the same kind of battle some years later in post-World War II Netherlands, Herman Dooyeweerd said, “It is an urgent matter that we, openly and regardless of who is involved, choose sides in the issue: reformation or accommodation. This question dominates Christian life today.”
(We would add that Dooyeweerd should have said “at all times” instead of “today.”)
Whatever good gifts and graces they may have had, Joseph Ross Stevenson, president of Princeton Seminary from 1914 to 1936, and Charles Erdman, professor of practical theology, punctured Princeton’s majestic testimony by their willingness choice of accommodation over reformation. Better that they had possessed Warfield’s belligerence. On one occasion, Mrs. Stevenson, the wife of the president, said, “Dr. Warfield, I hear there is going to be trouble at the Assembly. Do let us pray for peace.” Warfield responded, “I am praying that if they do not do what is right, there may be a mighty battle.”
The battle for Princeton Seminary in the early twentieth century constitutes one of the most defining events of our country’s history. Never mind that the history books generally miss it. Never mind that many well read people know nothing of it. Theology is more critical to the health of the nation than secure borders. Adherence to Scripture is more necessary to national survival than the latest weaponry. Islamic terrorists are far less of a threat than theological liberalism.
The lights went out at Princeton by 1929. A few professors, including C.W. Hodge, Jr., the last of the Hodges, and Geerhardus Vos, stayed on due to impending retirements and economic needs. Machen soon assembled a stellar group of men, including Oswald T. Allis and Cornelius Van Til (and later, John Murray), at the newly formed Westminster Theological Seminary. The brightness of old Princeton shone again at Westminster, although the setting and hardships may have diffused its rays for a time. The majestic testimony still survives in whole shelves of books by the old Calvinist professors that are kept in print and are still read and discussed. Even in areas, such as apologetics, where the older views serve as a point of departure, the Princeton theologians still command respect. No Calvinist should take to the street without having had at least a bit of Hodge, Warfield, and Machen under his belt. George Marsden notes, “[T]he Princetonians have been more influential in twentieth-century evangelicalism than they were among their nineteenth-century contemporaries.”
God’s ways are mysterious. He wins wars with capitulations; He advances His kingdom with retreats; He defeats His enemies with the demise of His own champions. I certainly cannot grasp why the bad guys got Princeton and the faithful remnant had to start all over again. Still the whole matter casts us at the feet of God with an acknowledgement that His ways are not ours and glory be for that fact. And glory be to God for the majestic testimony of Princeton Seminary from 1869 to 1929.
