What does it mean both to study and do theology within the contours of the Reformed tradition? To speak in a Reformed voice? For many it means moving from Calvin to Dort-inspired acronyms to Schleiermacher to Barth with little discrimination and, at times, antagonistic comparison. So one person's assessment of the magnitude of Schleiermacher's Glaubenslehre: ‘nothing on such a scale, and so systematic, had appeared in Protestantism since John Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion nearly three centuries earlier’ (Keith Clements, Friedrich Schleiermacher: pioneer of modern theology, London 1987, 7). Never mind Johann Heidegger's Medulla theologiae christianae or Wilhelmus à Brakel's more experiential Logikē latreia, dat is Redelyke Godtsdienst. The point is this: assessments of Reformed theology often bypass Reformed orthodoxy/scholasticism under the pretext that the period and its authors are cold, arid, polemical, predestinarian, Aristotelian and dogmatic (in the most pejorative sense). It is easier to bypass, of course, than to read. For those desiring to undertake such a task, reading itself is difficult, especially since most of the source material – both dogmatic handbooks and biblical commentary– remains tucked away in Latin. Even so, there has been a renewed interest in Reformed orthodoxy in the last several decades, thanks in no small part to the Herculean efforts of Richard Muller and the late Willem van Asselt. Embodying the spirit of this renewal, members of the Classic Reformed Theology Research Group in the Netherlands – which originated in 1982 – embarked on a long project (2010–20) to produce a bilingual and annotated edition of the Synopsis purioris theologiae (1625), a standard theological textbook at Leiden after the Synod of Dordrecht.

The volume under review is the last in the translated series, and it covers loci related to Church and last things. But it is neither the translation (which is both faithful and readable) nor the annotations (which are meticulous and instructive) that I want to focus upon. It is the importance of the Synopsis as such for thinking ‘Reformed’. This is not to say that the Synopsis is exclusively, pristinely or exhaustively Reformed. It does not corner the market, as it were. But it is tenuous, I would suggest, to think ‘Reformed’ without texts like the Synopsis. Why? Because such texts disabuse contemporary historians and, more so, theologians of persistent myths by highlighting the following. First, the Synopsis showcases the breadth of theology in the Reformed tradition, as opposed to reducing ‘Reformed’ to a predestinarian or covenantal system tout court. If the Reformed orthodox are studied at all, such engagement usually falls within the domains of the doctrine of God or soteriology. But what of – in keeping with the volume under review – the sacraments? church discipline? catholicity at work in the exposition of doctrine? These are significant vistas for historical and theological reflection, which the Synopsis aids in exploring and retrieving. Second, it reveals that Reformed scholasticism is rigorously exegetical and doctrinally precise, as opposed to exegetically dubious and dogmatically speculative. As Andreas Beck and Dolf te Velde note in their thorough introduction (eighty-three pages), ‘biblical references function not just to “prove” a given position, but first and foremost the contents of doctrinal discussion are occasioned and fueled by what Scripture reveals about the topic in different contexts and relations’ (p. 54). Third, and finally, the Synopsis helps one chart out the boundary markers of ‘Reformed’. One often wonders what the slogan reformata, semper reformanda means when, at times, it floats free from any traditionally ‘Reformed’ standard. Untethered, the slogan's content is filled in by those brandishing it. This is not to say that the Reformed tradition should continue its theological discourse in the present by simply regurgitating the past. Reformed theology did not reach its terminus in the seventeenth century, and dogmatics must be uttered afresh in new contexts. Nevertheless, the Reformed tradition is genuinely beholden to a tradition of theological discourse. The Synopsis presents one vector in this tradition, and its use in the seventeenth, nineteenth (for example, Bavinck) and twentieth (for example, Barth) centuries showcases ‘that it was recognized … as a reliable, representative, and accessible statement of Reformed theology’ (p. 90). What is more, the Synopsis unfolds the very principle of semper reformanda as its authors engage – innovatively at times – with and within the theological currents of the early seventeenth century. The Synopsis, therefore, serves as a window into both the conservation and discovery of the ‘Reformed’ theological voice.

Overall, a debt of gratitude is owed to the individuals who have brought the Synopsis to the English-speaking world. Critical translation is often a thankless, though necessary, task. For students of Reformed theology – new and old – the complete three-volume work will prove handy for (re)discovering the warp and woof of the Reformed tradition, even though the price tag will require it to stay on the library shelves for most. If one picks up the third volume in particular, the extended introduction to the historical and theological contexts – the author; the origin of the disputation cycle; the definition, in fact, of a disputation cycle; the various editions published; reception history; etc. – will orient the reader to the entire Synopsis. The first volume contains a brief orientation, but the third volume contains the authoritative introduction, and so it alone will be useful for those matters.