D. Scott Meadows
Ordained Servant: August–September 2025
Also in this issue
by Gregory E. Reynolds
Thoughts on Artificial Intelligence
by William Edgar
by Danny Olinger
“Trust” in Atonement? A Critical Appraisal: A Review Article
by Daniel Y. M. Tan
What It Means to Be Protestant: The Case for an Always Reforming Church, by Gavin Ortlund
by Ryan M. McGraw
Holy Sonnet IV: Oh My Black Soul!
by John Donne (1572–1631)
A Treatise on True Theology with the Life of Franciscus Junius, translated by David C. Noe, Introduced by Willem J. Van Asselt, Foreword by Richard A. Muller, Reformation Heritage Books, 2014, lii + 247 pages, $25.00.
Franciscus Junius’s De theologia vera (On True Theology), a landmark in early Protestant and Reformed scholastic theology, is now available in English through Reformation Heritage Books. This edition includes introductory materials and Junius’s autobiography, edited and prefaced by modern scholars. This review article summarizes the work’s contents and provides seven compelling reasons to recommend it.
Introductory Materials
In the foreword, Muller briefly introduces Junius and his work, On True Theology. He underscores its significance in Protestant and Reformed scholastic theology, commending Noe’s Latin translation and Van Asselt’s insightful introduction. Van Asselt’s substantial introduction provides a biographical sketch of Junius and the historical context, genre, and purpose of On True Theology. His analytical summary explores the nature of theology, defining true theology as wisdom, and distinguishing between archetypal and ectypal theology, the latter encompassing three forms: in Christ, in the beatified, and in the Christian pilgrim. Van Asselt also traces Junius’s enduring influence on Lutheran and Reformed dogmatics, evident in modern titans like Abraham Kuyper, Herman Bavinck, and Louis Berkhof. In the translator’s preface, Noe clearly outlines his translation methodology, offering valuable insight into his approach.
Life of Junius
Paulus Merula (1558–1607) published Junius’s autobiography with his permission, adding a preface. Initially, Merula aimed to chronicle the late sixteenth-century persecutions of Protestants by the Roman Catholic Church in the Netherlands and Spain. Upon discovering Junius’s autobiography, he found it not only illuminated these events but also offered an inspiring narrative to foster virtuous thought and conduct among the oppressed.
Franciscus Junius the Elder, born in 1545 in Bourges, France, hailed from a family of minor nobility. His grandfather William and father Denys served royal and military interests with distinction, though Denys faced severe persecution by Franciscans, enduring temporary exile before being exonerated and regaining his property. Junius, one of Denys’s nine children, was a sickly newborn, baptized urgently due to fears of his imminent death. Poor health persisted, fostering a shy demeanor, yet he displayed intellectual promise from age five under his father’s tutelage. His humility complemented his remarkable ability to absorb knowledge. After grammar school, he received private tutoring and, by age thirteen, pursued self-directed studies. Denys instilled a deep commitment to civic virtues, particularly justice, leading Junius to focus on law and discipline his studies for maximum achievement. Upon leaving home, however, he experienced urban temptations and spiritual ambivalence.
In 1561, Lyons marked a spiritual turning point for Junius. During a heartfelt conversation, his father discerned signs of skepticism and gently urged him toward Christian faith. Prompted thus, Junius studied the New Testament and embraced a lifelong commitment to Christ. At seventeen, he moved to Geneva, where he spent four years studying languages and theology, with Beza’s Confession and Calvin’s Institutes as primary texts. Despite numerous trials, this period fostered profound spiritual growth.
Denys, Junius’s father, was murdered by Roman Catholic rioters incensed by his legal actions against them. Junius’s mother pursued justice, securing some compensation, but Junius, prioritizing safety, remained in Geneva. Called by French-speaking ministers, he moved to Antwerp, Belgium, to serve in a Protestant church, where he faced repeated threats as a persecuted Protestant. He then served a three-year interim ministry in Bruges and Damme, enduring similar dangers. Amid social and political upheaval, Junius strove to preach and teach faithfully. Later, he spent two years in Limburg, Netherlands, and ministered to an armed congregation that courageously repelled a cavalry unit sent to arrest him.
In his final decade, Franciscus Junius served at the University of Leiden, Netherlands, dedicating himself to translating the Old Testament. Married four times, he remained devoted to each wife until her death. Only half of his children survived childhood. In 1602 when he was fifty-seven, his fourth wife died of the plague. Two weeks later, Junius also succumbed to the disease, passing peacefully with steadfast faith and affection, being cherished by many. Franciscus Gomarus delivered his funeral sermon, a fitting tribute to this eminent Christian scholar and advocate of true theology.
A Treatise on True Theology
Junius organized A Treatise on True Theology into thirty-nine theses, summarized below. Chapter divisions, ignored here, are less important.
True theology, defined as discourse on divine matters, exists (1, 2). It is distinct from false theology which, whether developed or undeveloped, reflects human opinion and is filled with error (3, 4). True theology is wisdom concerning divine realities (5). It designates archetypal theology (God’s uncreated, infinite wisdom, incomprehensible to creatures) and ectypal theology (our finite “wisdom,” used equivocally) (6, 7). God forms ectypal theology from archetypal for his glory and to communicate His grace (8).
Ectypal theology consists of God’s communicable wisdom, though not fully conveyed to creatures (9). It is partially revealed through union, vision, or revelation, according to creatures’ capacities (10). The ectypal theology of union belongs to Christ’s human nature through the incarnation, while archetypal theology remains with respect to his divine nature (11). The ectypal theology of vision belongs to the angels and saints in heaven and, though not equal to the theology of union in Christ, is still of a very exalted nature for mere creatures (12).
The ectypal theology of revelation in its fullest form belongs to Christian pilgrims on earth, is a grace from the Holy Spirit, and increases throughout life (13). This true and ectypal theology of revelation comes in two modes: by nature (natural theology) and by grace (supernatural theology). Even unbelievers possess some true knowledge of God through natural revelation. God grants some unbelievers in this world further revelation through Holy Scripture (14).
Natural theology proceeds from known principles, by the light of human understanding and in proportion to human reason (15). Yet it remains veiled and incomplete, requiring supernatural theology for salvation. The spiritual and moral conclusions drawn from nature alone are mixed with many errors, leading to idolatry and immorality, even among the more thoughtful pagans (16).
Adam originally possessed this natural theology, which required development by reasoning and completion by grace. Even for Adam before the Fall, supernatural wisdom was impossible apart from supernatural revelation (17). After the Fall, natural theology in us became thoroughly compromised, mere broken fragments of our depraved nature. A sinner’s nature is comparable to the ruins of a once-great house (18). Natural theology is incomplete and cannot bring anything to completion. It is impossible for anyone to be saved without supernatural theology (19).
Fallen man needs supernatural theology, which is above all a communication of God’s grace (20). Supernatural theology reveals much that could never be known by human reason or natural revelation alone (especially the doctrines of the Trinity and the gospel, D. Scott Meadows). It is never irrational but only suprarational (21). This ectypal theology is either absolute (in relation to God, who communicates it) or relative (in relation to our limited ability to receive it). It is important to remember the absoluteness of objective ectypal theology, lest we regard it entirely as relative with respect to our subjective reception of it (22).
Supernatural theology has been entrusted to God’s servants through the Word spoken in Christ, sealed in both the Old and New Testaments through prophets, apostles, and evangelists, in fitting measure for the present age. It promotes the glory of God and the good of the elect. Though limited, it is without error and absolutely trustworthy. Nothing we need to know is missing; nothing it contains is imperfect (23).
The material cause of supernatural theology (like the marble of a statue) is divine matters concerning God and all things in relation to him, especially the nature of reality in relation to God, God’s work in creatures, and the law of God assigned to them (24).
The formal cause of supernatural theology (like the human form of a statue) is divine truth, either considered as a whole or in its parts, as these parts are understood in relation to one another (25). This truth is holy, just, and perfect, so that we may be rightly guided toward holiness in ourselves, justice toward others, and perfection in all things. It is good in itself because truth reflects God, who is goodness itself, and it necessarily bears good fruit in us, the very end for which God made us (26). This theology is one, eternal, and immutable. A true man may change, but never the truth. A theologian may change, but never true theology, not in its pure form (27).
The efficient cause of supernatural theology (who or what fashions the statue) is partly principal (like the sculptor himself) and partly instrumental (like the chisel and hammer) (28). The principal cause is the Triune God, the sole Author and perfect Creator of this wisdom in his servants. God is the absolute efficient cause in all things, even when he employs subordinate causes (29). The instrumental cause is the enunciative discourse of God, spoken both spiritually (without the use of a physical body, as in dreams and visions) and corporeally (by means of the body, through Christ and the inspired writings of his servants) (30).
The final cause of supernatural theology (like the purpose of a statue honoring a hero) is, first, distant and exalted: namely, God himself; and second, subordinate to this: humans in relation to God, especially the elect (31). The highest end of theology is the glory of God, for theology both manifests his glory and confirms that glory in those who rightly use it. This is a particular instance of soli Deo gloria (32). The secondary end of theology is the present and future good of the elect, which God will certainly accomplish as his eternal purpose (33).
Our relative theology, theology within the subject, is the same divine wisdom, though altered in accordance with our limited reason; we who possess it are therefore called theologians. Nature has made us imperfect, such that we cannot receive the perfect in a perfect manner. We are like vessels of varied capacities, each with more or less poured into it (34).
The method of this theology within us cannot be precisely defined, for it varies from person to person and differs widely among all who possess it. We differ by nature, and we differ according to the grace given us. These variations also change throughout the years of our lives. A multitude of factors affects our capacity for true theology (35). The method varies in each person because of the differing proportions of the twofold principle: nature (which must decrease) and grace (which must increase). The natural man is being diminished and wasting away; the inner man, upon whom grace acts, is being renewed day by day. All pilgrims are being transformed into the same image, from glory to glory, by the Spirit of the Lord (36).
True theology varies among individuals because nature is diminished and grace increased to differing degrees, yet no man fully comprehends every aspect of our theology’s form. This is so self-evident that it scarcely requires elaboration (37).
The prophets and apostles perceived the whole and complete form of this theology, though not perfectly within themselves; by the unique power of the Holy Spirit, they faithfully handed down the entire theology they received, even though their personal understanding of it was not exhaustive. They were mere men, limited in intellect and still affected by sin, yet God made his pure truth known through them (38).
The form of our theology is indeed one in itself, but among us it exists in manifold expressions and shall remain so until we attain the unity of the faith and the knowledge of the Son of God, becoming together a mature man and reaching the measure of the stature of the church, which is the fullness of Christ (39).
Recommendation
Consider seven reasons why Junius’s magnum opus remains highly recommended for readers today.
First, his zeal for the glory of God. Romans 11:36 serves as a touchstone of truth and righteousness: “For of him, and through him, and to him, are all things: to whom be glory for ever. Amen,” (KJV). A theology that is centered on God, one that fosters reverence, awe, praise, and thanksgiving toward the true and living God, is authentic and praiseworthy theology. This spirit pervades Junius’s work and reflects his overarching theological perspective.
Second, his commitment to rational theology. One distinguishing mark of the Protestant scholastic theologians, among whom Junius rightly stands alongside figures like Turretin, Polanus, and Van Mastricht, is their dedication not only to exegetical and biblical theology but also to articulating biblical truth in a consistent, non-contradictory manner. They aimed to express doctrine in rational, that is, reasonable and coherent, propositions. This scholastic tradition was the soil from which the great seventeenth-century confessions grew (e.g., the Westminster Confession of Faith, the Savoy Declaration, and the Second London Confession). Those who subscribe to such confessions should understand and appreciate the theological milieu in which they were forged. These were high days in historical theology, when the faith was boldly and thoroughly proclaimed and rigorously defended against challenges from Roman Catholicism, Arminianism, Socinianism, and other complex systems. In contrast, the so-called Enlightenment fostered skepticism and irrationality, both being enemies of true theology. We should not cling to contradictions and excuse them with appeals to “mystery” or “incomprehensibility,” nor should we question the possibility of true theology or capitulate to the prevailing relativism that speaks of “my truth” and “your truth.”
Third, Junius’s respect for sound and orthodox theology. Junius was deeply grounded in what Paul calls the “pattern of sound words,” which had been expressed through many centuries of church history before him. He did not regard theology as a novelty of the Reformation era but honored what he had received from the early church fathers and even the better insights of medieval theologians. The Protestant Reformation was not the invention of new doctrine but the recovery, reformation, and advancement of historic Christian truth. This attitude is entirely consistent with the Reformational principle of sola scriptura, rightly understood. It was not a rejection of all tradition but the placement of Scripture above all other ecclesiastical and doctrinal authorities. The Reformers did not dismiss the best creeds and teachings of the past, but received them as subordinate, though valuable, authorities under Scripture. Unlike the biblicism of some today, Junius’s approach was both faithful and historically rooted.
Fourth, his judicious and eclectic use of philosophical terms and concepts, insofar as he judged them useful for expressing biblical truth. The relationship between theology and philosophy has long been contested, from Tertullian’s famous question, “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” to Aquinas’s warm embrace of Aristotelianism. Junius clearly leans closer to the latter. Classical Christian orthodoxy has long made careful use of extra-biblical philosophical concepts and language to express profound scriptural truths, especially in doctrines such as the Trinity and the incarnation. Terms like essence, subsistences, and natures are not found verbatim in Scripture, yet they are vital to the church’s faithful articulation of revealed truth. Junius models a balanced and disciplined philosophical engagement in the service of theology.
Fifth, his emphasis on the absoluteness and perfection of true theology in itself. In an age shaped by relativism and skepticism, even among otherwise faithful theologians, we face a subtle pressure to speak with undue caution or hesitancy about theological truth. The modern mind often views confident assertion with suspicion. Yet Junius, with refreshing clarity and conviction, reminds us that true theology in itself is absolute, perfect, and not dependent on our limited perception of it. His work helps counter the infernal postures of modern doubt and affirms the enduring reality of divine truth.
Sixth, his recognition that true theology, as possessed by us, is varied and limited. Observing the wide range of theological expressions among Christians and denominations, many are tempted to conclude that truth itself is elusive or unattainable. This leads some to theological agnosticism: “With so much disagreement, how can anyone claim certainty? Isn’t it arrogant to say we know the truth?” Junius offers a thoughtful, if partial, explanation for such concerns, pointing to factors like human fallibility, the influence of traditions, and the presence of false teachers. Yet none of these negate the reality of true theology or the fact that some, by God’s grace, do indeed possess and faithfully teach it. Disagreement does not disprove the truth; it only suggests our need for discernment and desire to know the way of God more perfectly.
Seventh, his encouragement, implicit in all these insights, for humility and aspiration as theologians. On one hand, recognizing our limitations and the vastness of the true, ectypal theology that exists for our apprehension rightly leads to profound humility, even among the most learned and devout theologians, and even in the most refined and reformed churches (the true identity of which, in the fullest sense, remains known only to God). Yet, on the other hand, we must not lose heart. True theology is ours by the grace of God, and growth in that grace and in the knowledge of Jesus Christ is our portion in the gospel. We have every reason to be hopeful that the Lord will bless us with an ever-deepening grasp of his truth, consistent with our spiritual union and growing communion with him. “Then shall we know, if we follow on to know the LORD” (Hos. 6:3, KJV). “Then shall I know even as also I am known” (1 Cor. 13:12, KJV).
D. Scott Meadows is a Reformed Baptist minister serving as the pastor of Calvary Baptist Church (Reformed), in Exeter, New Hampshire. Ordained Servant Online, August–September, 2025.
Contact the Editor: Gregory Edward Reynolds
Editorial address: Dr. Gregory Edward Reynolds,
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Electronic mail: reynolds.1@opc.org
Ordained Servant: August–September 2025
Also in this issue
by Gregory E. Reynolds
Thoughts on Artificial Intelligence
by William Edgar
by Danny Olinger
“Trust” in Atonement? A Critical Appraisal: A Review Article
by Daniel Y. M. Tan
What It Means to Be Protestant: The Case for an Always Reforming Church, by Gavin Ortlund
by Ryan M. McGraw
Holy Sonnet IV: Oh My Black Soul!
by John Donne (1572–1631)
© 2025 The Orthodox Presbyterian Church