It’s easier to remain at a baby or immature stage of theological knowledge than to struggle through understanding the complexities of the doctrine of justification or to work through comprehending the relationship between the Old and New Testaments. But the problem with remaining at a baby stage in our knowledge on these points is that we miss the richness and beauty of the gospel. These issues are at the heart of the gospel and are the foundation of the Christian life.

The last few years have seen a resurgence of popular-level books dealing with antinomianism, that pernicious crop of tares that seem to spring up wherever Reformed Christianity blooms. In 2013 we saw the release of Mark Jones’s Antinomianism: Reformed Theology’s Unwelcome Guest?. Sinclair Ferguson’s The Whole Christ: Legalism, Antinomianism, and Gospel Assurance—Why the Marrow Controversy Still Matters appeared in 2016.

Whitney Gamble’s new book, Christ and the Law: Antinomianism at the Westminster Assembly, isn’t intended for a popular audience, as it’s an abridgment of her doctoral thesis. But those interested in getting a better handle on the depth and breadth of antinomianism will find in this book a much-needed resource. According to the foreword by Carl Trueman, her new book makes a “signal contribution” to historical discussion of antinomianism and the Westminster Assembly (x). Gamble—associate professor of biblical and theological studies at Providence Christian College in Pasadena, California—fielded a few questions.

When Christians hear the word “antinomianism,” they usually think it has something to do with being “against the law.” But you claim that “English antinomianism . . . was more complex and multifaceted” (1). How so? What were the broader issues in this debate?

Yes, “antinomianism” broken down means “anti” (against) and “nomos” (law), so that’s a fair thought. And questions relating to the law, and more specifically the Ten Commandments, were definitely a part of the antinomian controversy in 1640s England. But those questions came in the context of a wider theological debate. At the time, the Church of England was entrenched in controversies between theologians who were Reformed and those who followed the teachings of Jacobus Arminius. If you think the theological debates we have in the States on these issues are passionate, well, in England the tension was so high that the nation erupted into civil war.

If you think the theological debates we have in the States on these issues are passionate, well, in England the tension was so high that the nation erupted into civil war.

King Charles I led a Royalist army sympathetic to Arminian theology against Parliament’s army, which was fighting for a reformation away from Arminianism. Within this context the antinomian controversy exploded in London. The theological issues at hand certainly were connected to the law, but they more broadly related to the doctrines of justification, sanctification, sin, the nature of Christ’s redemption, and the relationship between the Old and New Testaments.

You note that “antinomianism initially was an extreme anti-Arminian movement from within the Reformed camp” (2). Could you flesh out this triangle between Arminianism, Antinomianism, and Reformed theology?

Since the 1590s, English lecture halls and churches were filled with sharp debates over issues connected to Arminius’s teachings, specifically over the proper interpretation of predestination, God’s foreknowledge of sin, the place of faith in relation to justification, the nature of the grace given in salvation, and the role and use of the moral law. The majority of the Church of England leadership were either directly in line with Arminius on these matters or were at least sympathetic to his teachings.

A minority argued for a Reformed interpretation, however. And within that Reformed camp was a subgroup of theologians—later dubbed “antinomians” for their structuring of the Old Testament era—no held to a type of hyper-Calvinism in response to Arminianism.

In contrast to both the Arminians and the antinomians were the Westminster Assembly theologians, who fought for a mediating position between the two.

If God has forgiven us of all our sins, then should we continue to ask forgiveness for our daily sins? It seems that some antinomians said no. How does this debate help us answer that question?

Yes, we should! But some antinomians said no, due to their understanding of how God viewed his justified children. If he can’t “see” their sin, then there is no need to ask for forgiveness. Antinomians pushed for this view in an effort to stay away from the prevalent Arminian notion that a believer could lose his or her justified status to sinful acts. This notion came from the Arminian understanding of the biblical example of David and his sins. Arminians claimed that David couldn’t have been justified when he committed adultery and murder—he may have been justified previously, but he clearly had lost it at that point, because no justified person would commit such heinous acts.

Antinomians reacted strongly against the idea that David could’ve lost his justification, but they also didn’t think a justified person would commit murder or adultery. So in order to explain what happened with David, antinomians created a bifurcated system of biblical redemption. They argued that the entirety of the Old Testament belonged under the “inferior” time of the law. In that era, God judged his people harshly and condemned them if they didn’t keep the law perfectly—it was possible to lose one’s justification if the law was not kept. Since David belonged to that age, God “saw” his sin and punished him for it by taking the life of the child born to Bathsheba. Now, however, with the completed work of Christ, antinomians argued that believers have been ushered into a new, better era of “Free Grace” where God no longer sees believers’ sin or chastises them for it. The Old Testament law, and especially the Ten Commandments, can’t apply to the believer’s life or condemn the believer now in the time of grace.

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