A rather odd book, unsure, it seems, of just what all it intends to be. Purporting to be an account of "Puritanism and the Bible" it ranges uncertainly over a 100-year time span that includes Puritan writers in both England and New England, in radically different contexts and with rather different theological paradigms, interspersing throughout what is largely an intellectual history large dollops of wannabe Biblical theology, as Coolidge expounds how Paul, or at least Paul as he understands him, offers the "antinomies" that provide the inner logic of Puritanism, and explain why its logic is not really explicable in logical terms. Now, such a project is not necessarily a bad idea; only it would require a much larger volume (this one is only 151 pages) and the careful provision of a methodological and historiographical framework in order to pull it off convincingly. Plus, it would've required that Coolidge establish his ethos (or his sources) sufficiently as an expositor of Paul; otherwise, why should I believe that a 16th- and 17th-century historian has any idea what he's talking about on such a contested subject? As it is, the book feels like a loose web of intertwined strands that might be able to form a meaningful tapestry, but currently, do not. In particular, the lengthy chapters 4 and 5 seem only tangentially related, either historically or theologically, to the much more compelling 1-3 and 6. A word then about 1-3 and 6, since there is some real food for thought here:
Coolidge's purpose in these chapters is to rescue Elizabethan Puritanism from its caricature as a legalistic, literalistic, fideistic sola Scripturism, and to present it instead as actually having, on the contrary, a robust appreciation of reason and a rich and dynamic concept of Scriptural authority. He rightly draws attention to the fact that on many of the key points (e.g., the existence of adiaphora, the doctrine of Christian liberty, the provisionality of the Mosaic law, etc.) the Puritans deny the wooden Biblicism that the Anglicans accuse them of, and profess to occupy the same ground as their accusers. However, rather than acknowledging, as seems to me to be the only responsible solution to this dilemma, that the Puritans were in fact cross-pressured into making certain claims at times that they at other times either explicitly denied, or else implicitly undercut, Coolidge attempts to provide the needed reconciliation, as I said above, out of the Apostle Paul. In this, I think he is too hasty to jump to reconciliation, instead of allowing for genuine tensions and contradictions, and I also think that he fails to adequately show that the attractive syntheses available in Paul were actually appropriated as such by the Puritans. The result is a redescription of the Puritans which, while better than some of the caricatures it is opposing, in many ways just ends up substituting a warm, comforting imaginary portrait in place of a frightening fiendish imaginary portrait.
Here’s a sample of what Coolidge wants to say about the Puritans: It “is not a static legalism” (144); on the contrary, its “‘rules’ do not operate as legal precepts but as imperative indicators of a process: the continual coming into being and perfection of the communal body of Christ, the progressive realization in the life of the Church of a kind of meaning which it would be idle to seek outside of the Bible” (141). Ha! Sounds delightfully, suspiciously modern, doesn’t it? Indeed, he goes on to say that “the aspect of Puritanism thus obscured from modern view bears a suggestive analogy with a pervasively modern intellectual motif. The Puritan conception of ecclesiastical order as opposed to civil (or ‘carnal’) order anticipates the influential modern metaphor of ‘organic’ order as opposed to order which is merely ‘mechanical’ or ‘artificial.’” (146) It “expresses with remarkable clarity the principle that individual identity comes about only through social relationship; but at the same time it defines a social organism which itself arises uniquely fromt he process of growth in spiritual freedom in its members” (148).
Oddly enough, many of these glowing descriptions sound much more applicable to the conformist opponents of the Puritans, particularly to Richard Hooker’s thought, which one could almost portray as an “organic” protest again the Puritan “artificial” order. But no, according to Coolidge, the conformist "adjusts scripture admirably to the general fabric of ‘right discourse’, but in doing so he flattens it out, so to speak, producing instead of the dynamic unity of a unique transformation of experience simply the expository unity of a ‘doctrinal instrument’.” (142)
Now if it is bad as all that, you ask, why three stars? Well, one can’t be choosy with these sorts of books, you know, or everything would have to be one or two stars--at least, so it often feels. Coolidge is a clear writer, increasingly a rare trait among historical and theological scholars, so that earns him kudos. Also, though skeptical about the effectiveness of it, I do appreciate his attempt to integrate biblical theology into this picture. And above all, he does an excellent job of drawing attention to the core controversy over Christian liberty that drove the Puritan protest, something that almost no one else (except of course the incomparable Verkamp) seems to have picked up on.