John Calvin and A Lesson
From Sudoku
Sam A. Smith
Sudoku has become
popular in the last few years. Almost everyone has seen people sitting in
coffee shops or fast food restaurants penciling in the numbers. Since I am an early
riser, and since I usually take my breakfast at a local restaurant, I have
become an avid “sudoku spectator.” (I say “spectator” because I never bother
with the puzzles myself.) As I was reading in one of Calvin’s works the other
day, it occurred to me that there is an amazing parallel between sudoku and
Calvin’s view of redemptive history (I am referring specifically to the
eschatological aspect of redemptive history).
As you know, if you
are into sudoku, every proper puzzle has a unique solution—that is to say,
every box can only contain a certain number. Generally, the procedure for
solving a puzzle is to find spaces where there are enough “givens” to determine
which number (or possible numbers) fit in the intersecting blank spaces. Each
number that is found then becomes part of the pool of clues (along with the
givens) to find the numbers for the remaining spaces. Of course, the givens
can’t be changed; and every given constrains the number of possible solutions.
I haven’t done the math myself, but I’m told that in a 9 x 9 grid,
the minimum number of givens to make a unique combination (i.e., a puzzle in
which every square can only have one specific number) is seventeen. Of course,
since all proper sudoku puzzles have unique solutions, they must all have at
least seventeen givens. (Some puzzles are not actually “proper puzzles,” and
may have less givens.) The interesting
thing about givens is that each additional given further constrains the puzzle,
until finally there can be but one solution. When my wife first introduced my
93-year-old mother-in-law to sudoku, mom took to it like a duck takes to water.
Well, it turned out that mom had her own theory about how to solve these
puzzles. She would put a number in a space if she could see that it didn’t conflict
with any other intersecting numbers. Any experienced sudokist (I assume that’s
what they are called) would tell you that such a method is unlikely to produce
the correct solution. Why? –Because while you might be able to put a lot of
numbers on the grid quickly that way, sooner or later you’ll hit a “roadblock,”
because eventually you find that your “solution” isn’t a solution at all
because it conflicts with a given (and givens cannot be changed). We were
finally able to explain that with 5,472,730,538 possible combinations in the
standard puzzle, guessing could prove to be a lengthy process. She’s very sharp
and caught on quickly. How, you may ask, does this relate to John Calvin? Well,
I must say that I picked Calvin simply because I happened to be reading
Calvin at the moment. I could have picked Augustine, Luther, or any number of
other theologians, including countless contemporary examples.
Calvin, like many
before him, espoused a view of redemptive history that is essentially
spiritual. According to Calvin, the earthly in the Old Testament prefigures the
spiritual in the New Testament. Hence, the earthly worship and the earthly
promises and expectations in the Old Testament really speak of spiritual truths
using earthly examples and figures. Of course, one can adduce some very good
reasons why God might have revealed spiritual truth in just such a way. As I
was reading in his Institutes (Book 2, chap. 11), I couldn’t help but be
impressed with the elegance of Calvin’s explanation of the differences between
the two Testaments. It all seemed to fit, and for every statement, Calvin
supplied a seemingly good reason why the numbers could fit where he had put
them. But in looking at his solution (or rather, his partial solution, for he
never finished the puzzle) there seemed to be a problem; there was one part of
the puzzle where Calvin’s solution could not be made to fit with a given. The
given that didn’t jive with his solution was the book of Revelation. Let me
explain.
Who is to say that the
earthly promises of the Old Testament are not to be understood as spiritual
truth in earthly form? While God cannot lie, he certainly could have made
earthly promises that could only be fulfilled spiritually. That isn’t lying—so
I am assured by a great host of imminent theologians. If I promise you a penny
for your trouble, and then give you a million dollars, surely I cannot be
accused of any injustice! If God promised Israel an earthly land and kingdom,
and then gives both them and the Gentiles eternal life in heaven in unspeakable
glory, who could accuse God of lying simply because he did more than he
promised? (This is, of course, the general truth theorem undergirding realized
eschatology and replacement theology.) By God’s design, the puzzle of
redemptive history is constrained to the requirements of the givens; and the
book of Revelation is the final given in the puzzle. Unfortunately Revelation
does not accommodate Calvin’s solution, no matter how well the numbers might
seem to fit otherwise. Again, let me explain.
If it is true that the
physical and earthly promises in the Old Testament betoken a spiritual
fulfillment revealed in the New Testament, why is it that Revelation, the
capstone of the New Testament, describes the heavenly as being fulfilled in the
form of the earthly—precisely the opposite idea? Consider just two “givens” we
encounter in Revelation. First, Jesus is going to return to this earth to judge
his enemies and to rule upon the earth (1:7; 19:11-20:3 note the consistency
with Zechariah 14:1-12 and Matthew 24:29-31 and 25:31-46). Second, the New
Jerusalem, which is the heavenly city, is said to descend out of heaven to the
earth where it will remain forever (21:1-2,10). This is no small contradiction
to Calvin’s thesis—which, of course, was also Augustine’s thesis, and the
thesis of the dualistic Gnostics before him. [Realized eschatology can be
traced back to the influence of anticosmic dualism, which took root in the 2nd
century church. See my paper: “The Non-Christian Anticosmic Roots of Amillennialism,”
available at: www.biblicalreader.com/btr.]
Calvin worked his puzzle almost to the end, writing commentaries on
every other book of the New Testament, but he produced no commentary on
Revelation. Why? –Because unlike Augustine who used the “dual hermeneutic” to
cheat on his puzzle (applying an alternate set of rules for interpretation of
eschatological prophecy), Calvin was above that; he simply left the puzzle
unfinished, realizing that nothing he had said could be made to fit with the
book. Martin Luther experienced the same problem, and became so frustrated that
he tried to erase this given, calling into question the source and canonicity
of Revelation. The general tack in modern history among those who are intent on
forcing a spiritual interpretation of eschatological scripture is to simply
annul the constraints imposed by Revelation; this is usually handled in two
ways. The first is to question whether anything can really be known from
Revelation. Of course such an approach raises serious questions about the
inspiration of the book; for why would God have given the church an inspired
book that is incomprehensible? The second approach is to reinterpret Revelation
(e.g. “Is that given a 5 or a 6?”); and there are countless ways to accomplish
this—everything from structural theories (like the “recapitulation theory”) to
symbolic interpretation. The fact is, if someone is intent on altering a given,
you can’t stop them. But we all have to decide what we think about the
legitimacy of such “solutions.”
It’s
true, I don’t particularly like sudoku; but I love the lesson it illustrates,
that no matter how good any solution may appear up to a point, unless it fits
all of the “givens” (which cannot be changed), it cannot be the solution to a
proper puzzle. In the puzzle of redemptive history there can be only one
correct view of the kingdom of God that jives with all of the biblical
“givens,” and that view is neither replacement theology, nor realized
eschatology, but the simple, consistent, unadorned premillennialism of the Old
and New Testaments. Sadly, too many Christians, including a great many
scholars, never work enough of the puzzle to see that amillennialism (and
postmillennialism) are nothing more than failed attempts at solutions that can never
fit with the biblical givens. However, one day, perhaps soon, the correct
solution is going to be published. …I can hear the groaning already.
Biblical
Reader Communications, July 2009.
Sam A. Smith
Available at: www.biblicalreader.com