In another context, someone asked if the folks at the Front Porch Republic were Presbyterian. I spent a little time trying to determine the answer, without success. From the writings, I'm pretty sure some are Catholic, and others, if not Presbyterian, would at least own the label "Reformed." Darryl Hart, who has thus far contributed two essays, would not least but most own that label, and "Presbyterian" as well, being an elder in the Orthodox Presybyterian church. This unfortunately evokes an automatic negative reaction from me, both personal and theological, but as I've mentioned several times before, God seems to have taken on as a special project this year the task of teaching me that those with whom I do not get along are sometimes right, and always have important things to teach me.
In this case, I'm pointing you to Hart's latest post, John Calvin and the Land of Chocolate, because of the prominent display of the Swiss flag (correct shape and all), and his kind remarks concerning my country-in-law.As I sat at the [International Congress for Calvin Studies] in Geneva and heard presentations on the social and political consequences of Calvin—contributing to the mix with my own paper on American Presbyterian boasting about Calvinism and political liberty—I couldn’t help but wonder if historians and the devout were looking for Calvin’s legacy in all the wrong places. After all, I was sitting in Geneva, a city that is part of Switzerland, and which takes a back seat to Bern and Zurich in the nation’s political and religious history. And yet, scholars kept tracing Calvinism’s influence to everywhere but Switzerland and its admirable history. [Abraham ] Kuyper himself credited Calvinism with Dutch independence, the Glorious Revolution of 1688, and the founding of America. If you like political events with international consequences, then the colonial powers of the Netherlands and Great Britain, as well as the super-power of super-powers—the United States of America—are historical horses to which you might want to hitch your globally ambitious wagons.
But if you are fond of the original United States and the Articles of Confederation, then Switzerland may just be your cup of hot chocolate. Here is a nation that managed to do what the United States all to quickly abandoned. It is still a confederation, has an executive branch made up of a committee of seven, managed to remain neutral in two world wars, and nurtures patriotism by requiring all men to serve in the military (as well as the reserves until the age of 42). Granted, its economy is not flashy—consisting of banks, watches, pocket knives and chocolate. But it is a nation with truly independent instincts and the collective wits to preserve Swiss autonomy.
Of course, Switzerland is not a utopia, and its policy of neutrality during World War II has a fair share of detractors. The point here, however, is not to paint Switzerland as the answer to the world’s problems. It is instead to wonder aloud if Calvinists and those who study Calvinism should look for the fingerprints of John Calvin’s influence not across the English Channel or across the Atlantic Ocean or anywhere for that matter outside Switzerland. I know my own Protestant convictions would feel more comfortable in Switzerland’s political shoes than with the global footprint for which the United States is now responsible. Perhaps, if American Calvinists can find their confederated selves during this year of Calvin festivities, they might show their American neighbors that places like Switzerland are more worthy of our political admiration than supposedly successful nations like the United States. If John Calvin gets credit for a renewed interest in national restraint and real political independence, so much the better.
