Reformed Theology and Visual Culture: The Protestant Imagination from Calvin to Edwards.
Morgan, David
Reformed Theology and Visual Culture: The Protestant Imagination
from Calvin to Edwards. By William A. Dyrness. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2004. xv + 342 pp. $85.00 cloth; $29.99 paper.
Although William Dyrness uses the term "visual culture"
to refer principally to actual images, defining it in a larger sense as
the entire apparatus of seeing is more compelling since there is much to
learn from the history of Reformed theology about modern visuality, or
visual culture, which includes the optical, imaginative, and pictorial
wherewithal of vision. The subtitle of the book is the more apt
designation of Dyrness's theme since he spends most of the study
plotting the rise and decline of Puritanism's attitude toward
textuality and imagination. His appealing aim is to show how iconoclasm is more than a fear of images. Dyrness accomplishes this by surveying a
course of theological development from Calvin to such major Reformed
thinkers in the Anglo-American tradition as William Perkins, William
Ames, Richard Sibbes, John Cotton, Richard Baxter, John Flavell, and
Jonathan Edwards. Dyrness's central claim is that the anxiety
toward images in Reformed theology and practice from Calvin to Edwards
and beyond marks a significant turn from the late medieval Catholic
sensibility that is not simply a denial of vision, but a redefinition of
it. Calvin and his followers refused to reduce God to the matrix of
human desire, which served them as the negative definition of vision
that underscored the sovereignty of God. Imagination in this sense was
the fanciful assembly of mental fictions according to human ends and
therefore a transformation of the divine into idols of human vanity.
Calvin insisted that images could not teach anything true about God
because they were the product of imagination. The word of God was the
medium chosen by God for divine revelation and therefore the only means
of coming to genuine knowledge of God.
But Dryness shows that there is more to consider than this negation
of image and imagination. Indeed, he argues that the marginalization of
one visual sensibility allowed for the emergence of another, one in
which word and image were integrated in a new form of imaging, both
mental and pictorial. By turning away from the intercessional use of
images in worship and devotional life (images that mediated the
relationship between devout viewer and the divine), Reformed Protestants
were able to cultivate a practice of inwardness that focused on a
rigorous examination of the self. The result was an itemization of sins
and an internal topography of the self that mapped out one's
journey toward God along a rocky and protracted path of conviction,
contrition, and (hopefully) eventual conversion. It was the path
narratized most effectively among Reformed Protestants by John
Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. This ordering of inner life
variously took the shape of a taxonomy or a geography in which
articulation was a primary technique: breaking down the self and its
journey into their constituent parts. Time became as important as
vision, resulting in their intermingling and what may best be termed
"imagetexts," the visual artifacts that are read and
therefore, because they acted like texts, were considered safe and
useful by orthodox Calvinists. Dyrness examines the diagrammatic charts
produced by the rhetorician Peter Ramus and English Calvinist academics
who were influenced by his work. Organized as graphic schemes of the
essential parts of an argument, the tabular structures of these diagrams
visually encapsulated the shape of thought, envisioning the movement of
thought from whole to part. Dyrness claims that these graphic forms
helped their Reformed users to visualize an intimate linkage of mind and
world and therefore constituted a new form of imagination.
The schematic imagination is evident throughout the visual
productions of British and American Reformed Protestants from the
sixteenth through the eighteenth centuries. But it also predated the
Reformation by several centuries. The diagrams illustrating the
millennial thought of Joachim of Fiore evince a similar sensibility.
Lutheran and Pietist imagery bears a comparable sense of form and
textuality. Nor is the visual inwardness of Ignatian spirituality
altogether different. The international print culture of sixteenth- and
seventeenth-century Europe circulated the same visual sensibility among
Catholics and Protestants of many kinds. Nevertheless, the consistency
among Reformed believers is striking, and Dyrness helpfully pulls
together a range of secondary studies in his analysis of important
thinkers. For those unfamiliar with the visual artifacts of the age, he
also helpfully traces the features familiar in prints and paintings in a
variety of other kinds of "imagetexts" such as grave stones,
garden design, architecture, and town planning among Reformed Christians
in Britain, Holland, and America.
The study complicates its task by confusing world-image, mentalite,
and imagination. A more careful distinction of these and a rigorous
theorization of visual culture would be welcome. And Dyrness calls for
further scholarship on the legacy of Reformed sensibility in the visual
culture following the period he studies, apparently unaware of the
number and variety of studies of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century
Anglo-American Protestant visual culture. In fact, the legacy of the
schematic imagination clearly survives the demise of Puritanism. One has
only to consider the abundance of tract and Bible illustrations
undertaken by latter-day Reformed Protestants such as the
Congregationalist and Presbyterian membership of the American Tract
Society, which in the first decades of the nineteenth century championed
the "plain style" of Puritan simplicity and directness in its
illustrated publications. Other obvious examples of the imagetext are
the hieroglyphic Bibles still in print after the Civil War and deriving
directly from the emblematic tradition that Dyrness examines. And the
schematic, tabular sensibility of Puritanism is robustly embraced in the
intricately designed millennial charts used by Adventists William Miller
and James White, and in the early twentieth century by the
Dispensationalist Clarence Larkin. In fact, they are still in use.
Moreover, illustrated versions of Bunyan's classic as well as
excerpts of Baxter, Flavell, and Edwards were a mainstay of the American
Tract Society and the American Sunday School Union well into the
nineteenth century.
David Morgan
Valparaiso University