Recent decades have seen a significant spike in scholarship surrounding the English Puritan John Owen (1616–1683). In addition to arguments for Owen's abiding theological significance, some authors, like Sebastian Rehnman, Carl Trueman, and Richard Muller, have examined the place of his thought within the philosophical and theological background of international Protestant Scholasticism; this approach to Owen studies also accounts for his place within the longer stream of Christian scholastic approaches to theological method that date back to the medieval period. Others have followed this focus to demonstrate that broader intellectual debts and connections.
Still, this extended attention to Owen's thought often neglects the historical concreteness of the man. Enter scholars like Tim Cooper and Crawford Gibben, who, without trying to make Owen a theological hero or sage for the contemporary church, have focused on how he is a figure of historical interest within the turbulent and interesting seventeenth-century political world of England. For example, they have given readers a greater appreciation for Owen's complicated relationship with Richard Baxter, his often-ignored personal ambitions, and the roller coaster elements of his life and career. To understand Owen, one needs to view him not only within the larger international scene of Reformed continental theology but also within the smaller world of the political and social life of seventeenth-century England.
Growing out of this political-historical interest in Owen's particular English context, Martyn Calvin Cowan offers another fine contribution to the field. While focusing primarily on his preaching, Cowan helps us better appreciate how Owen's theological convictions interact with his political vision. Eschatology profoundly shaped how he viewed the world, including England's place within it.
Employing the “Israelite paradigm” (for example, 8–27), Owen took on a prophetic role in warning the nation and especially the leaders of government. He made no simple equation between England and Israel, but the way Israel functioned served as a type or pattern to understand how God might be relating to England in his day. Similarly, Owen looked to the Old Testament stories, filled with assurances and threats, as the way in which to make sense of the current experiences of England.
According to Owen's assessment, the 1630s represented England's decade of negligence because it ignored how the kingdom swung back toward Rome, away from pure gospel, during the Laudian period. Reformation was incomplete. Owen saw the following decade as characterized by a push toward righteous reform, but by the 1650's England was “sick” and “backsliding.” The only way forward would be through repentance and change. While some have argued that Owen evolved in his views on these matters, Cowan argues that Owen is surprisingly consistent in many of his political beliefs, but that as political and cultural shifts took place, his application of those beliefs often looks different. At one point he can hold out great promises, at another he thunders with cautions. The message depends on his interpretation of the times as they changed.
Owen addressed his prophetic call not merely to clergy, encouraging them to speak strongly to the laity but also to all the officers in the civil government, having special concern for those at the top. After the removal of King Charles I, there was no longer a king to blame, so a prophetic-apocalyptic call had tremendous implications for the acting magistrate. The magistrates were the body in which so much hope had been placed, but they were also the group that, if changes were not made quickly, would lead England into even greater problems and tribulations. Owen assumed the function of a prophet, claiming the ability to see God's hand working in their time in England.
This could be a time of profound renewal with global significance, or England could continue on toward decay and corruption, which would bring God's judgement. Owen proclaimed that, “like Israel, the continuation of God's special presence with England was “purely conditional,” and therefore, England should expect curses such as plague, famine and military defeat in return for disobedience.” (158). Disagreeing with previous scholars (for example, Wilson) who have strongly distinguished between prophetic preaching and apocalyptic work, Cowan demonstrates that this separation is not sustainable for Owen. Although Owen envisioned himself in a prophetic role, this call included the requirement to interpret the times, which meant that his prophetic preaching was necessarily also apocalyptic in nature. There were potential blessings and curses for England: Owen's eschatological understanding of his times and his calling shaped his view of England's current situation and how he advised God's people to live in the midst of the dangers and possibilities.
One of the most helpful aspects of Cowan's work is how clearly he shows the significance Owen places on interpreting the times. Owen has no hesitations about the need for a providential reading of history. While quick to criticize groups he believed to be misunderstanding the way the Spirit worked in their day (for example, Quakers), Owen still had no question that God was abundantly active. Providence was a powerful theme in this Puritan's preaching and theology, as Cowan highlights. The problem was that everyone looked at “the times” and tried to see God's providential hand, but sometimes they read—according to Owen—exactly the wrong conclusion. Three main ways that God works, claimed Owen in his prophetic posture, were 1) “hardening the reprobate,” 2) “exposing hypocritical professors,” and 3) “refining a godly remnant” (see chapter 6). Thus, fasts and prayers were practices that Owen encouraged people to employ that they might more ably discern God's ways and works in their day, so that they might properly interpret his rebukes and know how best to reform and respond to such divine discipline. If England didn't learn and respond, the consequences were dire: “the candlestick of God's presence might be removed from the English church” (170).
Cowan's work should be warmly received by historians and theologians alike. It addresses such mistakes as the failure to see the connection between Owen's prophetic and apocalyptic worldview, and the previous presentations of Owen that might give the impression of him as simply an abstract theologian whose ideas were in no way influenced or reflected by the specifics of his political context. Yet, in many ways, it will be historians who will find this work most rewarding in the quest to better understand the turbulent period in England of 1630–1660.