Why I Am Not a Calvanist: Some Thoughts on Total Depravity

This if the first of several posts that I intend to write regarding the five points of Calvinism (TULIP). This is within a larger series that I am working on explaining why I am not yet a Calvinist and hopefully doing something to encourage those who are of a similar mind but might feel intimidated by the tact of their reformed acquaintances. A greater explanation of my motivations can be read in the introduction here. I am not going to attempt to prove a definite alternative view to Total Depravity. Calvinism is a positive assertion, and as such the burden of proof is on the Calvinists. I am only explaining why I have yet to be convinced by their arguments.

Total Depravity puts the "T" in TULIP. It is, by broad opinion, the foundational point of the five. Calvinism is an internally consistent system and if you agree with the first of the five points, as it is distinctly articulated in Calvinist theology, you arguably have to then hold to the other four points (and also conclusions beyond those) if you are to be logically consistent. You probably didn't gasp at that last sentence, but that is potentially a very controversial statement itself since many a sincere and devoted Calvinist claims to hold to only four (or less) of the five points. Usually the one that drops out is Limited Atonement, but I'll address that in due time.

Now I mean no offense by alluding to a logical inconsistency on the part of "4-point" Calvinists; perhaps my perception of their insufficiency is our first evidence of human depravity, whether it is on their part or on mine. My previous comment about the logical necessity of taking all 5 points together would be in total agreement with someone like 7-pointer John Piper. However, that's pretty much the only place him and I might agree as far as Calvinism is concerned--not that he would lose any sleep over the fact.

So Calvinism is internally consistent and TD is the first premise in the line of reasoning. Notice I did not say, though, that Calvinism is consistent with scripture or that it is philosophically necessary. I only mean to point out that, within itself and as general theology, Calvinism is not self-contradicting and one point necessarily flows from the other.

Now it is common to come across broad definitions of TD with which it is hard for anyone to disagree. Definitions like, "Sin affects every part of us" or, "Nobody is capable of saving themselves" are surface-level concepts that anyone with moderately conservative theology is going to get behind. This is why it is important to note what parts of Calvinist doctrine are truly distinctive--the points of each idea that are held only by Calvinists. This is something I have found many people to be confused about. They might think, in this instance, that to deny the Calvinist articulation of TD is to say that we can in fact save ourselves or that we aren't all hopelessly sinful from the start. While it is true that to believe the latter would be to reject TD, many Christians who reject TD do not also reject those other things. This is a problem of not being able to distinguish where one's own theological positions end and where commonality with others begins. It is a problem of being ignorant to any understanding other than your own. It is not by any means a problem unique to Calvinists, but wherever it is found it is a wholly uncharitable and counterproductive deficiency. I sincerely hope that it is not presently to be found in this very argument.

The main part of the Calvinist expression of TD that is particularly distinct is the idea that a person is incapable of choosing or even desiring anything to do with God unless God first "enables" them to do so. The term "enable" here comes with the caveat that, once such an occasion happens, a person cannot choose other than to seek for God--but that is getting ahead of myself. In regard to TD this is the main point where I am unconvinced.

The passage that I have heard most appealed to in defense of TD is Rom 3.10-18. Most other passages used to defend TD are supplementary to this. That is, they do not themselves explicitly outline the doctrine of TD, but can be seen as supporting it once such a doctrine is established. It is from this passage that many get the idea that no person since the fall has been capable of even desiring to make a move toward God. Therefore, the passage in question is the crux of the teaching. Ascertaining the meaning of this passage should go a long way to upholding or deflating TD.

Now to understand what Paul is getting at in Romans 3, we need to first try and understand something about the passages Paul quotes in verses 10 through 18. There are some common themes in almost all of these. First, each one contrasts the wicked with the righteous--the unjust with the just. Second, they are mostly occasional—within a context of a specific people and time. This is expressly clear with the Isaiah and Jeremiah passages. The psalms that are referenced are also quite likely in the context of David's early plight with Saul or his later one with Absalom, and the first (Psalm 14 and 53; ESV) is perhaps as specific as the incident with Nabal (1 Sam 25).

This means that the verses referenced did not originally intend to convey anything about the absolute condition of all mankind for all time since they contrasted the then present wicked with the then present righteous within the context of history. That is not to say that all people are not in some sense wicked, since we are mortally affected by Adam’s transgression and all men sin (Rom. 5.12; 1 John 1.8), but only that a slightly different sort of subject is in few with these passages. However, for the current subject, this only really matters with one part of one of the references: “no one seeks for God” (Rom. 3.11). This is the crux of the crux. If this means that everyone for all time is incapable of seeking or desiring God in any sense, then the Calvinist version of TD holds up. However, as discussed in the previous paragraph, that conclusion is not supported by the context.

The “no one seeks for God” bit is quoted from Psalm 14 (and Psalm 53, they are basically identical passages). As I mentioned already, this psalm might be as specific as to refer to David’s interaction with Nabal (Nabal literally means “fool” and “the fool” is identified as the subject in the first verse of the psalm). When you read this passage, it is quickly apparent that David could not be making a statement about all people at all times. Verses 2 and 3, from which Paul quotes in Romans 3, must be understood hyperbolically because the rest of the psalm does not allow for an absolute, systematic rendering. Verse 4 presents a clear juxtaposition between the “evil doers” who “do not call upon the Lord” and “my people”. Verse 5 then introduces the “generation of the righteous” which is likely meant to be connected to the “my people” of the previous verse. This makes it almost impossible to read the “children of man” who don’t “seek after God” as referring to all men everywhere for all time since even within the scope of this passage there is a “generation of the righteous” who are being exploited by those “evildoers”.
So then is Paul using something that is not making a point about TD to yet make a point about TD? No, he’s actually in the middle of an entirely different conversation. The verse introducing the section in question asks, “What then? Are we Jews any better off [than Greeks]?” He answers his own question with, “No, not at all. For we have already charged that all, both Jews and Greeks, are under sin,” followed by the section in question (Rom. 3.9). The explicit subject, then, is the status of the Jews and Greeks as two groups in respect to one another and God. This is exactly in line with the direction of Paul’s argument through the first 11 chapters of the epistle. What we should have thought as suspicious was the idea that Paul was here digressing from his own argument to make a random statement about systematic theology.

So we see that Paul’s message was also occasional. He was appealing to these OT passages in support of his position that there is now no distinction between Jew and gentile. Something about the passages quoted are suppose to prove that point. From reading the original quotes we know that what was being said was not that everybody is evil, therefore both Jew and gentile are evil. Rather the actual passage compared the righteous with the evil, showing that the two existed in juxtaposition. I believe that Paul was appealing to those passages specifically to show the Jews that they themselves had a very muddled past. David was chased down with murderous intentions by his sons and brothers and Israel was destroyed for their spiritual whoredom. Paul was saying, “this is your past…it’s twisted and polluted…so don’t think your heritage in God’s memory is any better than that of the Greeks.” This makes sense of not just this particular section of Romans 3, but also of the overall message of Romans and the original passages there quoted. The Jew’s already knew that the Greeks came from damaged stock, what they needed was to also be put in their proper place as a people—equal with their Greek brothers. 

So we see that Paul wasn’t addressing TD and neither are the passages he referenced. “No one seeks for God” isn’t a statement about everyone for all time, but a rhetorical expression regarding particular people David had to deal with. This is similar to when we say something dramatic like “nobody notices me” or “they are all losers”. It is therefore a logical leap to conclude from this passage that it is impossible for someone to desire God because of depravity. That doesn’t mean it is not true, but does mean that it remains to be proven. I am not yet convinced. 

There are many other passages that are used in support of the idea of our inability to want God. Notable in my mind is Ephesians 2: “And you were dead in the trespasses and sins...” This is often quoted to argue that obviously dead people can’t choose things, so we who are depraved cannot choose God. I don’t think the problem here is difficult to perceive for anyone who wants to be honest about the matter. The fact is, we don’t really know much at all about what it means to be “dead” in whatever sense Paul here intends, other than that it is a bad thing that desperately needs correcting (and has been corrected, praise God!). Yes it is true, physically dead people do not make choices. They also don’t fart, but the spiritually dead still seam capable enough of that. It is a completely arbitrary parameter to just claim out of thin air that we are limited in exactly that sort of way. However, if it were already proven elsewhere that we are incapable of desiring God then it would be much less of an issue to see a connection here. Yet, it remains to be proven.

I could spend all night addressing all of the passages that are brought up in defense of TD, but that is unnecessary. As I said in the beginning, I do not have to prove the doctrine false, the burden of prove is upon those who assert it. If it is going to be proven, there is a near endless list of challenges that must be addressed. When trying to prove a doctrine, you cannot merely list those verses that seem to be for it over and against those that seem to be against it and hope that the scales are in your favor at the end of it all. If we are to respect the idea of the Bible as a total, self-consistent, non-contradictory expression then we must find an understanding that satisfies all relevant scripture. The doctrine of TD seriously fails at this point. In my experience, Calvinist expositors tend to lean very heavily upon their proof-texts while mostly ignoring or blithely dismissing the legion of areas that seriously challenge their conclusions. To be fair, this is another shortcoming that is certainly not unique to Calvinists and one of which I have also been guilty. 

One of the passages that seems to be irreconcilable with the conclusions of the Calvinist version of TD is found very nearly at the plum beginning of it all. Four chapters in we find God interacting with Cain. In regard to Cain’s anger over God’s rejection of his sacrifice, God tells Cain explicitly that, “’If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must rule over it.’” Now this must all be very queer from the Calvinist perspective. According to their doctrine, Cain absolutely could not have done “well” without God allowing (making) him do well—so it wasn’t actually an option. Supposedly it was literally impossible for spiritually dead Cain to obey what God was saying--or even want to obey. But yet here is God presenting him a choice between doing well or not. Here is God imploring him to “rule over [sin]”. If that was a flat impossibility, then God was apparently being less than forthright in communicating that Cain had two options before him (some people call that lying). I don’t see how Calvinist doctrine survives sections like this. I’ve looked, but I have yet to find it successfully harmonized.

How about passages like this:

• “And if it is evil in your eyes to serve the LORD, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your fathers served in the region beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell. But as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.” Joshua 24.15

• “And those who had set their hearts to seek the LORD God of Israel came after them from all the tribes of Israel to Jerusalem to sacrifice to the LORD, the God of their fathers.” 2 Chron. 11.16

• “Nevertheless, some good is found in you, for you destroyed the Asheroth out of the land, and have set your heart to seek God.” 2 Chron. 19.3

• “Evil men do not understand justice, but those who seek the LORD understand it completely.” Prov. 28.5

• “If you will seek God and plead with the Almighty for mercy, if you are pure and upright, surely then he will rouse himself for you” Job 8.5-6

• “Seek good, and not evil, that you may live; and so the Lord, the God of hosts, will be with you, as you have said. Hate evil, and love good, and establish justice in the gate; it may be that the Lord, the God of hosts, will be gracious to the remnant of Joseph.” Amos 5.14-15

• “’Let everyone turn from his evil way and from the violence that is in his hands. Who knows? God may turn and relent and turn from his fierce anger, so that we may not perish.’ When God saw what they did, how they turned from their evil way, God relented of the disaster that he had said he would do to them, and he did not do it.” Jonah 3.8-10

As far as I can see, these are all situations that are not possible or commandments that simply cannot be followed according to the Calvinist understanding of TD. Nineveh could not have chosen repentance. Jehoshaphat could not have had “some good” in him and he could not have “set [his own] heart to seek God.” These are just some examples. Calvinist doctrine when thoroughly applied does not harmonize with the majority of scripture.

This is why I am not a Calvinist. I do not see, and I’ve not found anyone to show me, how the Calvinist version of TD is evident in scripture, and how such a perspective can actually be harmonized throughout. The philosophical challenges aside, if the scriptural argument were thoroughly sound then I would be compelled to admit it. I will admit, however, that when read by a mind already acquainted with certain assumptions, several passages seem, on the surface and in absence of having to reconcile with scripture in total, to be an open and shut matter. However, it is clearly not that simple. Whatever conclusions we come to on the subject absolutely must make sense out of the entirety of the scriptural witness, not just a collection of verses selected in isolation from across the breadth of the bible. If that can be done, then I will gladly accept TD and be on my way to becoming a good adherent to reformed soteriology.

Why I Am Not a Calvinist: An Introduction

This will not be comprehensive. It is only an introduction to a series of posts about Calvinism that I hope will eventually materialize on my blog over the indefinite future. As those around me know, I am certainly not very shy about this subject. However, there are a couple reasons that I have not mentioned it online before: first, not everyone cares about the subject, but for those who do it is usually a central and dividing topic. I have been reticent for fear of saying something that would merely affirm and further the controversy. Second, I have several close friends for whom this is such a subject—not that they would necessarily divide over it, but it is a doctrine that they hold dear to heart and it means an awful lot to them. I do not want to write or say anything that would injure these relationships. Things tend to be received differently when read in cold, digital print. Fortunately, not many people will read any of this. 

Something happened about a week ago that is pushing me past the preceding inhibitors. A couple of my dearest friends asked me about Calvinism because it is a major subject at the church they attend and, while they are usually very successful at avoiding idle controversies, the issue has recently come to a head through some of their relationships. Knowing that I and my wife have strong, thoughtful opinions on the subject, they wanted to know why we have thus far rejected the doctrine. I did not at that time fully answer their question, but rather I mostly encouraged them to not be discouraged by theological controversies and to stay the course in regard to their faith. I told them that while I could likely talk for hours (days?) about the subject—why I do not hold to the doctrine and how I understand the relevant scripture—orthopraxis is always more important than orthodoxy. They’re on the right track with the former, so they don’t need to be overly concerned with the more esoteric parts of the latter. 

That said, I do think that their question is one worth addressing: Why am I not a Calvinist? I am also reminded of some other great friends of mine that came into contact with a young bible-student who had just thoroughly encountered Calvinist doctrine for the first time. The poor guy was going through some kind of life/faith crisis over the whole thing. Apparently something deeply disturbed him—shook him—about the consequences of Calvinist ideas, however he couldn’t see any way around it theologically. He was thoroughly convinced of the solidness of the biblical presentation before him. The last I heard the guy is getting by alright so apparently he has gotten past his initial shock. The problem in his example, though, is not that he agreed with the Calvinist argument but that it created a crisis for him. It is for people in his position that I would also like to answer the question. 

I do not really have much of a desire to convince Calvinists that they’re wrong, especially so long as their bad theology is not impairing their work in the Kingdom. But people who do not take to Calvinist doctrine because they intuitively perceive the inherent incongruities between the God they know and the God they are being taught about should not be left to feel like they have a theological disability simply because they are not aware of the alternative perspectives. While Calvinism has much in its favor when it comes to near historical precedents and the work of highly regarded Christian thinkers, writers, and scholars, there is also much to be said about some of the contrary ideas, thinkers, and scholars if properly understood. People deserve to hear whatever sound, quality arguments exist outside of Calvinism. So until you actually find something sound and quality, I invite you to read what I have to say. 

I will first organize my answers into two broad categories: Biblical and Philosophical. I believe that Calvinist doctrine fails in both contexts, with the former being of primary importance. In the coming posts I will attempt to show why I have found that the bible can’t be adequately appealed to in support of each of the five points of Calvinism. Then I will likely move on to addressing some of the philosophical implications of the doctrine and how those compare to scripture. 

As always, I encourage all comments and questions. 

Note to Calvinists: Try not to get too upset by anything I say. Remember, if I am wrong, it is only because such error has been divinely pre-determined.

Posts About Dead People: An Essay on Augustine

I had to write a paper for class arguing for the event in the history of the Church that I believe to be most significant in the formation of the contemporary church. I chose Augustine's conversion and teachings. After some thinking about the subject, it seemed to me the obvious choice. I have pasted in my paper below (sans notes and bibliography--because nobody really cares about plagiarism anyway) in the off chance that someone might actually want to read such a thing and because it's my blog and I can do what I want. The people who might find this interesting are Tim and...no that's probably it.

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The Most Influential Event in the History of the Church:

The Conversion and Teachings of Augustine of Hippo

         Aside from Christ, Augustine of Hippo might well be the most influential person in the history of the Church. While the New Testament canon, especially the Pauline epistles, are officially recognized as the authoritative foundation of church theology, the thinking of Augustine is perhaps more readily appealed to for understanding several areas of doctrine and is more tacitly present in the thinking of the Church today. The Roman Catholic Church readily accepts the concept that tradition formed by the fathers throughout history is authoritative. Remarkably, in much of the Protestant world Augustine's influence is likewise accepted as if having special authority, although such a claim would not be readily agreed upon by most Protestants. The influence of Augustine somehow spans the doctrinal divide of the Protestant Reformation. Every significant movement in the Western church either assumes Augustinian thinking or directly appeals to it. What the modern church would look like if it were absent of Augustine's influence is not immediately apparent, but we can be confident that across the entire breadth of the Western church—and to some extent the Eastern church—orthodoxy as it is variously held would be dramatically different had this 4th century rhetorician and philosopher not converted to Christianity. There is a broad and expressive testimony among church historians about the impact of Augustine's ideas. This paper will look at the historical event of Augustine's conversion and present a small yet broad sample of the strong opinions from various scholars and church leaders about the value of his contribution in forming the modern church's perception of itself. 

            The world during Augustine's life was undergoing massive change. For the Church this transition was a passage from its origin as an obscure but growing Jewish sect to an established and institutional force in the world. Constantine legalized and legitimized Christianity in the empire a generation prior to Augustine. Before Augustine's death the world would see the destruction of Rome by the Goths. Between Constantine's reign and Rome's fall there was a continual yet varying tension between the Church, the pagan Romans, and the Roman government. Christianity was growing in a way that was previously unknown to the Church. The faith of our fathers was tested by the relative comfort and acceptance of the era. There were many theological issues raised during this period. Withinthe Church, due to an increase in the opportunity for contemplation, controversy and schism arose (e.g. Arius, Pelagius, and the Donatists). There were also challenging outside religious movements (e.g. Manichaeism). Rome was on a course leading to destruction, and the identity of the Church was becoming fatefully entwined with the Empire.

            Such was the world that welcomed Augustine. As Justo Gonzales records in The Story of Christianity, Augustine was born in Northern Africa in A.D. 354. He was an intellectually gifted child and his parents wanted to provide him with a quality education. Augustine's academic career brought him to Carthage as a young man where he pursued rhetoric, philosophy, and women. Unable to accept the Christian faith of his mother, Augustine adhered to Manichaeism—a young, Gnostic and dualistic religion of Persian origin. Finding shortcomings in Manichean beliefs, Augustine eventually followed the philosophical teachings of Neo-Platonism, which was also a Gnostic-like teaching with many similarities to ideas that we might today associate with the Eastern pantheistic religions. Later in life, while working in Milan as a professor of Rhetoric, Augustine's mother convinced him to attend the preaching of Aurelius Ambrosius, the local Bishop. It was through these sermons and through watching influential acquaintances abdicate their pagan religion for Christianity that Augustine was led to eventually confront the God that he had been avoiding.

            What might be the most significant event in the history of the post-apostolic church happened in a garden in Milan in A.D. 386. Urged forward by his lifelong search for the truth, Augustine wrestled with God and walked out of his garden as a convert to the Christian faith. His actions evidenced that he was truly a new man. Giving up his profession as a professor of rhetoric, Augustine settled into a monastic lifestyle back in North Africa. Through a series of events and against his intentions, Augustine came to serve as the Bishop of Hippo, another city in North Africa. It was during this time that Augustine penned his most influential works and set a course for the Church that would form the thinking of Christians to this day.

            The significance of Augustine's work in the modern church, especially in the Western world, cannot be understated. Much of his success, if not seen as a direct result of the divine sovereignty of God, likely rested on his gifting as a philosopher and rhetorician. Gonzalez states it this way: “Throughout the Middle Ages, no theologian was quoted more often than he was, and he thus became one of the great doctors of the Roman Catholic Church. But he was also the favorite theologian of the great Protestant reformers of the sixteenth century. Thus, Augustine, variously interpreted, has become the most influential theologian in the entire Western church, both Protestant and Catholic.” And John Piper, a leading figure in the resurgence of Reformed Theology in America, says in his three part biography: “From this platform in North Africa, and through his remarkable faithfulness in formulating and defending the Christian faith for his generation, Augustine shaped the history of the Christian church. His influence in the Western world is simply staggering.”

            Some of Augustine's contributions to the Church were unique articulations of innovative doctrines. Where Augustine was not outlining new teaching he was reinforcing and strengthening older ones. Ideas such as classical theism, original sin, infant baptism, ammillennialsm/postmillenialism, and just war theory have benefited from Augustine's influence. Although it is unlikely that anyone would ever admit Augustine's authority to be on par with that of the original Apostles and authors of the New Testament, Augustinian ideas permeate the thinking of modern Christians both overtly and latently to such a degree that we are regularly impacted by his teachings in even the most subtle ways. To some extent, Christians undoubtedly read scripture through an Augustinian filter—so that even the interpretation of Paul's epistles is predicated upon Augustinian traditions and assumptions. This is not so surprising for the Roman Church when considering the significance that tradition has in her formation of doctrine. However, it is a more perplexing point for the Protestant Church—which historically prides itself upon the motto sola scriptura. Nevertheless, Augustine has had a profound and lasting impact on the whole Western church.

            Augustine uniquely impacted the Church of the Middle Ages and the Church of the Reformation in different ways. The dramatic histories of those periods carry through to us today both the heritage of their occasions and also a more direct Augustinian influence. Peter Brown, in his biography of Augustine, points out that, “It is no coincidence that these two themes (his doctrine of grace and his notion of the Church) were the two major preoccupations of Augustine's life in which he seemed to have turned his face most directly towards the future. They pointed toward the Catholic Church of the Middle Ages, to the crisis of grace and freedom in the Reformation and to the laicized sequels of that crisis in modern times.” Augustine's impact in the Roman Church is perhaps most obvious in its ecclesiological distinctions. His City of God is certainly visible in the catholic, supranational, and pilgrim characteristics of the Church. Out of the ashes of Rome and through his struggle to defend Christianity against its detractors, Augustine contributed to an understanding of the function and identity of church that likely led directly to the strong, formal institution that arose in the vacuum of Rome's absence. This must have had a direct impact on the ability of the Church to survive throughout the following Medieval Age.

Augustine's defense of the Church's right to coerce heretics as well as his views on just war foreshadow the Inquisition of the 12th century and other controversial episodes in church history.   Brown states that, “In fact, Augustine had already moved half of the way towards accepting coercion asa means of solving the Donatist schism; and the new circumstances created by the Edict merely crystallized an attitude which had been evolving for a long time....Augustine, in replying to his persistent critics, wrote the only full justification, in the history of the Early Church, of the right of the state to suppress non-Catholics.” And Gonzales, writing on the effect of Just War Theory, said, “The second condition is that a just war must be waged by properly instituted authority....this principle would be applied by the powerful in order to claim that they had the right to make war on the powerless, but that the opposite was not true.” The impact of such ideas can also be seen throughout the Reformation in the words and actions of Calvin, Zwingli, and Luther toward the dissidents of their movement. Of course this sort of activity does not have a formal place within the Roman or Protestant Church today, but the memory of these historical events have a lasting impact on the legacy of the Church.

            The Reformation also carried with it a rich Augustinian tradition. As already stated, the reformer's articulation of the doctrines of Grace is a direct connection to Augustine's ideas. Hilmar M. Pabel notes Augustine's impact on Luther: “Scholarship has signaled Augustine's influence on Protestant reformers, especially Martin Luther....In 1517, after formulating the doctrine of justification by faith alone through a reading of St. Paul supported by a study of Augustine, Luther equated his own theology with Augustine's.” The famous (or infamous) soteriological system named for John Calvin was first articulated by Augustine more than a millennium earlier. In Anthony Lane’s biography of John Calvin, the source of Calvin’s theological inspiration is highlighted: “Calvin held Augustine in the highest regard. He was very reluctant to depart from Augustine in doctrinal matters, or at least to admit it. He made sweeping claims to the support of Augustine....Calvin's teaching was to a considerable extent, if not to the extent that he actually claimed, a revival of Augustinianism, and it is natural therefore that he should have felt inclined to give considerable authority to Augustine.” Calvinist doctrine was a predominant aspect of the Great Awakening and the early spread of Christianity throughout America. Even of those sects of the Protestant Church that do not espouse Calvinism today, few are truly absent of at least some of its distinctive doctrinal points. So we see that Augustine's influence on the whole of the Western church is extensive.

            A much longer treatment of the manifold ways that Augustine has influence the Church, both Roman and Protestant alike, is more appropriate for such a dense subject. Most of the ways we experience Augustine's thinking are likely too subtle or too embedded in our presumptions and dogma to be easily discernible. There are many critical points throughout the history of the Church which are worth considering as the most influential: e.g. the transition from the Apostles to the apostolic fathers, the rise of Constantine, the Crusades, the Protestant Reformation and Counter-Reformation, and the spread of Christianity in the New World. However, none of those, with the exception of the age of the Apostolic Fathers and Constantine, would have likely been what they were without the influence of Augustine. His impact is active in the Church down to this very day. The modern church, across the board, is in many ways an Augustinian church. The Church, and the whole of western society, would not be the same without him.