Christ the Matter and Form of Justification: A New Solution for Reconciling Imputed and Infused Righteousness

Abstract

Writing from a Reformed perspective, I intend to develop a concept of the duplex iustitia. I will argue that it is possible to affirm that infused righteousness is the sole formal cause of justification, while holding that imputation is its material cause. My goal in doing so will be to enumerate another possible area of agreement so that areas of disagreement can be stated in sharper dynamic clarity and therefore more precisely addressed. First, I will articulate what precisely is at issue in the disagreement between Roman Catholics and the Reformed on the matter of justification’s cause. Here I will discuss the role union with Christ plays in both Roman Catholic and Reformed concepts of justification. From these foundations, I will then argue that a Reformed perspective on justification coheres with the Tridentine affirmation that the sole formal cause is the “righteousness of God by which he makes us just”, while retaining the affirmation that its proper material cause is the imputed righteousness of Christ. In this section, I will defend a version of the duplex iustitia. Third, I will conclude by analyzing how this proposal might move beyond some of the agreements reached in the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification (JDDF henceforth) of 1999 and the International Catholic-Reformed dialogue document “Justification and Sacramentality” of 2015, while also stating the limitations of my proposal. Finally, I will answer some anticipated objections.

1. Justification in Roman and Genevan Perspectives

In 1541, Protestant and Catholic theologians arrived at an agreement about justification by faith at the Regensburg colloquy. Unfortunately, the colloquy was rejected by both Rome and Wittenberg, leaving a gaping divide between Rome and Protestants that exists to this day.

There are plenty of issues that divide Protestants and Catholics other than justification. But it seems to me that an agreement on justification is one more step towards healing our divide. Writing from a Reformed perspective, I intend to develop a concept of the duplex iustitia. I will argue that it is possible to affirm that infused righteousness is the sole formal cause of justification, while holding that imputation is its material cause. My goal in doing so will be to enumerate another possible area of agreement so that areas of disagreement can be stated in sharper dynamic clarity and therefore more precisely addressed. First, I will articulate what precisely is at issue in the disagreement between Roman Catholics and the Reformed on the matter of justification’s cause. Here, I will discuss the role union with Christ plays in both Roman Catholic and Reformed concepts of justification. From these foundations, I will then argue that a Reformed perspective on justification coheres with the Tridentine affirmation that the sole formal cause is the “righteousness of God by which he makes us just”, while retaining the affirmation that its proper material cause is the imputed righteousness of Christ (John Calvin 1960, III.XIV.17). In this section, I will defend a version of the duplex iustitia. Third, I will conclude by analyzing how this proposal might move beyond some of the agreements reached in the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification (JDDF henceforth) of 1999 and the International Catholic-Reformed dialogue document “Justification and Sacramentality” of 2015, while also stating the limitations of my proposal. Finally, I will answer some anticipated objections.

On what grounds does God count us as an heir rather than an enemy, a friend rather than a foe—in short, an adopted child rather than a sinner marked for eternal judgment? Between Rome and the Reformed, there are two different visions.

According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, justification is both the forgiveness of sins and the renewal of the interior man (Catechism of the Catholic Church: With Modifications from the Editio Typica 1997, §1990–1995) The Roman tradition has historically argued that justification refers to being “right-wised” or made upright. Hence, Aquinas argues that justification involves a movement in the soul from being disordered towards a “general rectitude of order in the soul.” Nevertheless, he argues that justification denotes the remission of sins and becoming a friend of God. For him, God—by a singular act of infusion—moves the soul from a state of sin to a state of righteousness, and in this self-same act, God forgives sins (Aquinas 1952, ST I-II.q113.a2).

The Council of Trent follows this lead in Session VI, Chapter VII, which reads as follows:

“This disposition, or preparation, is followed by Justification itself, which is not remission of sins merely, but also the sanctification and renewal of the inward man (sed et sanctification et renovatio interioris hominis), through the voluntary reception of the grace, and of the gifts, from which man out of injustice becomes just, and out of enmity a friend (unde homo ex iniusto sit iustus, et ex inamico aimicus), that so he may be an heir according to hope of life everlasting (ut sit haeres sucundu spem vitae aeternae). Of this Justification the causes are these: the final cause indeed is the glory of God and of Jesus Christ, and life everlasting; while the efficient cause is a merciful God who washes and sanctifies gratuitously, signing, and anointing with the holy Spirit of promise, who is the pledge of our inheritance; but the meritorious cause is His most beloved only-begotten, our Lord Jesus Christ, who, when we were enemies, for the exceeding charity wherewith he loved us, merited Justification for us by His most holy Passion on the wood of the cross, and made satisfaction for us unto God the Father; the instrumental cause is the sacrament of baptism, which is the sacrament of faith, without which (faith) no man was ever justified; lastly, the alone formal cause is the justice of God, not that whereby He Himself is just, but that whereby He maketh us just, that, to wit, with which we being endowed by Him, are renewed in the spirit of our mind, and we are not only reputed, but are truly called, and are (deumum unica formalis causa est istitia dei, no qua ipse iustus est, sed qua nos iustosfacit, qua videlicet ab eo donate, renovamur spiritu metis nostre et non modo reputamur, sed vere iusti nominamur et sumus), receiving justice within us, each one according to his own measure which the Holy Ghost distributes to every one as He wills, and according to each one’s proper disposition and co-operation. For, although no one can be just, but he to whom the merits of the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ are communicated, yet is this done in the said justification of the impious, when by the merit of that same most holy Passion, the charity of God is poured forth, by the Holy Spirit, in the hearts of those that are justified, and is inherent therein (per Spiritu sanctum charitas dei diffunditur in cordibus eorum, qui iusticfcantur, at que ipsis inheret): whence, man, through Jesus Christ, in whom he is ingrafted, receives, in the said justification, together with the remission of sins, all these (gifts) infused at once, faith, hope, and charity.”

This passage is worth some exposition. First, justification happens via the sanctification and renewal of the inward man. It is crucial that this is not misunderstood: justification, even in the Tridentine formulation, still happens in an instance. Renovatio, here, refers to that instantaneous renewal that happens in Baptism (ST. I-II, q.113, a.7). This does not mean, then, that one is translated from a state of death into a state of grace via the process of sanctification, but rather what has been termed “definitive sanctification”1 is part of justification (Christ 2021). Further still, the chapter above includes reconciliation as a part of justification, insofar as one goes from being an enemy to being a friend of God in justification itself (unde homo ex iniusto sit iustus, et ex inamico aimicus). The two phrases “from injustice is just, and from enmity is a friend” are parallel and, presumably, mutually interpreting. Further, the inherent righteousness that justifies is argued to be love.

On the other hand, classic Reformed thought swims against the currents of the Tiber. While Calvin argued that justification and sanctification were inseparable benefits of union with Christ, he nevertheless distinguished them as distinctive benefits (Billings 2007). For him, justification involved both the non-imputation of our sins and the imputation of Christ’s righteousness. In his dispute with Osiander, Calvin vigorously rejects the notion that justification itself denotes a “making just”, although he allows that inner renewal is inseparable from justification on account of both being wrought by our union with Christ (John Calvin 1960, III.XI.11-12). Rather, justification is simply that by which God forgives our sins and accepts us into his favor on account of the righteousness of Christ. This definition is followed by John Owen, who defines justification in terms of the believer’s having the right and title to eternal life alongside the forgiveness of sins via God’s judicial act of forgiveness and imputation (Owen 2006, pp. 237–47). The Westminster Confession of Faith (1649) follows suit, arguing that justification is God’s acceptation of the sinner wherein he forgives the sins of the justified and imputes both the satisfaction and obedience of Christ to their account (XI.1). With some variation, the idea of justification as “forgiveness” and “acceptation into God’s favor” seems to underlie all Reformed accounts of justification, despite divergences (Fink 2010).

How does union with Christ relate to justification in both systems? In the Roman Catholic view, union with Christ relates to justification insofar as the former effects the non-imputation of sin and the reconstitution of the sinner. That is, through being engrafted into Christ, one receives divine charity in the heart and receives the forgiveness of sins. This is why the Tridentine proclamation states that one receives justification “through Jesus Christ in whom he is engrafted.” With respect to the forgiveness of sins, union with Christ seems to effect a kind of imputation. For since the person translated from a state of death to a state of grace is reckoned “one mystic person” together with Christ, the merits of Christ passion are infinitely sufficient to cover the eternal and temporal debt of punishment for his members, “just as if a man by the good industry of his hands were to redeem himself from a sin committed with his feet.” (ST III.Q49.A1) In Baptism, all punishments—eternal and temporal—are remitted, such that the Baptized person (were they to die right after Baptism) would not suffer purgatorial punishment, since Christ’s passion suffices as satisfaction for the sins of his members. Further still, as justification involves the translation from death to life, it denotes the interior renewal of the person insofar as it frees from enslavement to sin, heals, and is grounded in the Spirit-effected engraftment into Christ (see Catechism of the Catholic Church: With Modifications from the Editio Typica 1997, §1988–1992).

On classical Reformed accounts, union with Christ features centrally in discussions concerning justification. William Perkins, for instance, seems to view justification and sanctification as aspects of union with Christ. For Perkins, the righteousness of Christ is imputed to us—is “ours”—only on account of our union with Christ (Perkins and Yuille 2018, vol. 6, pp. 274–77). William Ames follows suit, arguing that the blessing of justification follows from union with Christ (William Ames 1968, pp. 121–26). Turretin agrees, arguing that through union with Christ forged by faith, we obtain justification (Turretin 1992, vol. 2, pp. 560–63). For the Reformed, union with Christ is the soteriological matrix, such that justification and sanctification are both aspects or features of that union, rather than the former being the cause of the latter (Hall and Lillback 2015, pp. 248–69). The Reformed emphasis departs from the Lutheran construal insofar as Lutheran theology makes definitive sanctification—used here to denote the interior renewal of the inner person, and not their progress in sanctification—logically posterior to justification (Tappert and Deutschlands 2001, III.41).

Are these accounts really compatible? Can they be coherently and plausibly joined together? I believe the Reformed account can. We now turn to this task.

2. Aristotle, Aquinas, and a Reformed and Roman Convergence in the Duplex Justitia

To understand the particular point of convergence I wish to draw attention to, it will be helpful to get a handle on the two relevant causes at hand: a material cause and a formal cause. Drawn from Aristotle’s four-cause system of explanation, these two “causes” (though the word translated for cause, aitia, more closely denotes an “explanation” or principle) answer different questions. The former answers the question “out of what is this thing made”, whereas the latter answers what the form of a thing is. In one sense, we can think of this as the “essence” of things or “what it is” (Henning 2009).

But in another sense, the notion of a “form” has more specificity in the Aristotelian and Thomistic traditions. For instance, Aristotle can speak of the formal cause of actions as desires and decisions, insofar as a pattern of action instantiates desires and decisions; the latter organizes the former into a coherent pattern (Reece 2019). Thomas Aquinas argues that the substantial form of a thing is intrinsic to it, such that

“…existence does not belong to the form but to the (composite) subject through the form, so that becoming (fieri), which terminates in being is not a process of movement of the form but of the complete subject. For just as form is termed being, not because it is itself a being, if we want to speak properly, but because by it something is; so form is said to become, not because it itself becomes, but because by it something becomes, when a subject is reduced from potency to act.”

(Aquinas 1951, a. 11)

A form is immanent to a thing, such that a thing is what it is through its form. In other words, the formal principle of a cat, for instance, is such that the cat, on account of its form, develops from being a kitten towards being a cat; its being is so organized such that it develops along the relevant lines (Goyette 2009).

How do these categories apply to the justification debate? Recall that the Council of Trent (Session VI, CH VII) teaches that the “single formal cause” of justification is the righteousness poured into our hearts via the Spirit through Jesus Christ. While this in-pouring is merited by Jesus Christ’s passion, it is nevertheless communicated to us via the renewal of human nature. But how does this conflict with the Protestant view? Martin Chemnitz names the point of controversy as such:

“what that is on account of which God receives sinful man into grace; what must and can be set over against the judgment of God, that we may not be condemned according to the strict sentence of the law…what intervenes, on account of which God is rendered appeased and propitious to the sinner who has merited wrath and eternal damnation.”

(Chemnitz 2007, vol. 1, p. 468)

Johann Gerhard, with characteristic clarity, argues that the main issue concerns that which makes us worthy—what is it that makes it right or fitting for God to give us eternal life, and count us as forgiven heirs (Gerhard 2018, pp. 39–40)? Jonathan Edwards similarly argues that the central issue of justification—the concept, not just the term—concerns that which renders us proper subjects of the title to eternal life. That is, what is it in respect of which

“God judges it fit that this benefit of Christ be ours. [For Protestants] it is not in any way, on account of any excellence or value that there is in faith, that it appears in the sight of God a fit thing that he who believes should have this benefit of Christ assigned to him. Rather, it is purely from the relation that faith has to the person in whom this benefit is to be had; or as it unites us to that mediator in and by whom we are justified.”

(Edwards 2017)

As Edwards puts the issue, then, to say that the infusion of righteousness is the “sole formal cause” of justification is to say that the excellency of the righteousness infused into us is what gives us a title to eternal life. Protestants, however, believe that it is not the excellency of that righteousness itself, but solely our union with Christ that serves to justify us.

Is it possible to find an area of agreement between these two views? Possibly. Johann Gropper, a Roman Catholic representative at the Regensburg colloquy, argued that the formal cause of justification was both “imputed and inherent righteousness.” He seemed to believe that justification somehow involved both the imputation of Christ’s righteousness and the inherence of Christ’s righteousness in us. We need the former because of the imperfection of the latter (Lane 2020, pp. 113–16). Indeed, there even seems to be some resonance between the way Gropper and Martin Bucer thought about justification (Lugioyo 2010, pp. 103–34). Julius von Plfug, a Roman Catholic advocate of reform, even argued that Luther derived the notion of imputation from the Catholic tradition. He thought that the imperfection of our works is imputed to us as righteousness, complemented by Christ’s righteousness (Lane 2020, p. 118). Historically, then, there have been Roman Catholic theologians who did not think that justification by imputation and justification by infusion were at odds.

However, to highlight areas for possible rapprochement, it is essential to grasp why the colloquy failed to satisfy the relevant parties theologically. Fascinatingly, Luther and Melanchthon, who were ostensibly dissatisfied with Article 5 of the Regensburg colloquy, did not object to the formulation of a duplex iustitia. Rather, both were concerned about the ambiguity of the relationship between love and faith, such as that in Article 5 (Lane 2020, pp. 38–42). Luther worries that the article left the door open to allowing that love might be part of the grounds of our justification, insofar as it is a part (not merely a fruit) of faith. This left a vital area unaddressed, which Roman Catholics could exploit. Contarini seemed initially receptive to the notion of a duplex iustitia, disagreeing with Protestants on other grounds (e.g., the relationship between faith and the virtues) (Steinmetz 2001). Reginald Pole seemed to express initial delight over the article (Pole 2002, p. 264). Yet Johann Eck, Cardinal Gian Pietro Carafa, and Cardinal Cervini felt it was too vague—even if it could be interpreted in a Catholic sense (Lane 2020, pp. 18–20). On the other hand, where Melancthon called Regensburg a “hyena”, Calvin seemed to express optimism, expressing approval that much was, evidently, conceded (Lane 2020, pp. 38–40).

Why did Article 5 strike Calvin differently from some of the Lutheran representatives? As argued above, the Reformed have held that justification, properly speaking, is by union with Christ. That is, the indwelling of Christ himself in the soul of the believer is the grounds for the imputation of Christ’s righteousness (rather than an antithesis to it). We share Christ’s righteous status precisely because we are one with him (Garcia 2006). John Davenant, responding to Robert Bellarmine, writes that we are considered as righteous in Christ only insofar as we are incorporated into Christ as our head (Davenant 1844, pp. 244–45). However, this notion is treated differently in Reformed circles. Some place a “mystical union” as logically prior to a spiritual union, in which we are renewed (hence Vermigli). Turretin similarly speaks of internal renovation (renovatio interioris) as a concurrent effect of justification itself (see Turretin 1992, vol. 2, VII.q3.§XX). Yet others, like Zanchi, do not see a meaningful distinction between a spiritual union and mystical union (Fesko 2012, pp. 196–98).

So which position more accurately represents the Reformed position? While a full treatment of this issue is beyond the scope of the paper, I will mention several reasons why the construal here is firmly within the Reformed tradition. A survey (albeit brief) of William Ames, John Owen, and Zacharias Ursinus (the chief architect of the Heilderberg Catechism) seems to show a thread teaching the primacy of our mystical union with Christ in justification—drawing no such distinction between a mystical and spiritual union. Ames speaks of being justified by union with Christ (see William Ames 1968, XXVII.10). As far as I can tell, Ames does not speak of two kinds of unions. John Owen explicitly roots justification in our union with Christ, such that the foundation of imputation is the fact that the “Lord Christ and believers do actually coalesce into one mystical person.” It is only on account of their union with Christ in this sense—that the Holy Spirit inhabits a believer—that someone can be united to Christ (Owen 2006, IX.III). Ursinus seems to identify the “application” of Christ’s benefits with being ingrafted into Christ.2 Thus, Calvin, Owen, Davenant, Ames, and Ursinus seem to take the line I am arguing here: that we are justified by our union with Christ, properly speaking, and we are engrafted into Christ by faith alone.

In this sense, then, we can speak of union with Christ as the formal cause of justification. That is, insofar as a form is that which inheres in a thing and makes it to be what it is, Christ’s indwelling by the Spirit is what makes the justified person justified. This needs some clarification, since, frequently, Reformed writers (e.g., Davenant, for instance) speak of Christ’s righteousness as the formal cause of justification, while others speak of faith as the formal cause. In following the latter line (which Calvin argues), I am arguing that Christ dwells in faith, such that faith-formed-by-Christ is that which justifies us.

On the other hand, the material cause according to Calvin is Christ’s own righteousness. Surprisingly little (to the author’s knowledge) has been written on what Calvin means by this tantalizing phrase. Calvin writes the following:

“The efficient cause of our eternal salvation the Scripture uniformly proclaims to be the mercy and free love of the heavenly Father towards us; the material cause to be Christ, with the obedience by which he purchased righteousness for us; what can be the formal or instrumental cause but faith?…the final cause is the demonstration of divine righteousness and the praise of his goodness.”

(III.XIV.17)

There are two things to note here. First, Calvin seems to identify the “instrumental cause” with a “formal cause”. And here, he writes that the formal cause of justification is faith. It is precisely because through faith, Christ “deigns to make us one with himself” that we are sharers in Christ’s gifts (III.XI.11). Insofar as a form is that which inheres in a thing which makes it what it is, and that which inheres in us which makes us justified persons is Christ himself, we may speak of Christ himself as the formal cause of our justification.

Historically, certain Roman Catholic writers have opposed this by arguing that infused righteousness itself is the formal cause of our acceptation before God. But as it turns out, this claim may be understood one of two ways. First, it might be said that God, by the Spirit, copies, as it were, Christ’s virtue into us as a stamp copies itself in its impression. William Alston, critiquing Thomas Aquinas, seems to argue that Aquinas believed God merely replicated, via divine grace, the form of God’s love in himself in the creature according to that creature’s mode of being; this, he believes, is what Aquinas means by the “indwelling of the Spirit.” (Thomas V. Morris 1988, pp. 140–41) But Adonis Vidu has argued that, in fact, Aquinas taught that charity just is the form of the Spirit’s indwelling in this created medium. Just as color, per Vidu, can be understood as light in a particular medium, so charity in the soul is the Holy Spirit in the medium of the soul (Arcadi and Turner 2022, pp. 262–63).

It is not my purpose here to assess whether Vidu’s view of Aquinas is correct.3 Nevertheless, what Vidu’s construal reveals is that there is a second way of understanding the notion that “infused righteousness” is the formal cause of justification. For if infused righteousness just is the form of the Spirit’s indwelling the believer, in whom she is united to Christ, then this assertion is, after all, compatible with the claim that the indwelling of the Spirit is the formal cause of justification. For infused righteousness would be nothing other than the form of the Spirit’s indwelling in the soul—with the Spirit’s indwelling constituting our union with Christ. In other words, if “infused righteousness” is the form of our union with Christ—because it is the form of the Spirit’s indwelling, which constitutes that very union—then infused righteousness is the formal cause of justification because “infused righteousness” just is the form of Christ’s own indwelling of the believer.

But, it might be said, this does not yet produce full reconciliation with the Tridentine affirmation on formal causality. For if infused righteousness is the formal cause of justification, that formal cause can grow in accordance with the practice of righteousness—hence the Tridentine affirmation that we can be more justified (Session VI, Ch. 10). On this point, I agree that my proposal above does not produce full reconciliation with the Tridentine affirmation; this is not possible. But recall that my purpose is not, in this article, to produce such a full reconciliation or engagement with the Council’s affirmation. Rather, I aim to contribute to the enumeration of areas of agreement so that areas of disagreement might be more precisely defined for engagement. Thus, suppose we narrow down the question as such: why is it, as Chemnitz states, that we are translated from a state of death to a state of life—that we do not find ourselves condemned under God’s eternal justice, but heirs of eternal life? On this specific question, we can affirm that infused righteousness is the formal cause of justification if we understand infused righteousness in the soul just to be the form of Christ’s indwelling his people by the Spirit. This is compatible with Calvin’s affirmation that the material cause of justification—the “matter” constituting God’s judgment that we are righteous heirs—is the title to eternal life Christ himself has merited by his perfect obedience.

Nevertheless, this proposal requires Roman Catholics to adopt a specific interpretation of Tridentine teaching, closing the door to other interpretations within the Catholic tradition. For, if Alston is right about Aquinas’s view of the Spirit’s indwelling, then Aquinas’s view will need to be rejected. For if we understand the infusion of righteousness just to be the form of Christ’s indwelling in the soul of the believer, then it is not the case that Christ simply creates or stamps a copy of love, of which the Spirit is the exemplary cause. On the other hand, if we understand infused righteousness to be, as it were, an imprint of the Spirit’s character onto the soul, then the matter of justification—that which God regards in justification—will not be Christ himself but that righteousness which is a copy of Christ’s righteousness.

But what, on my proposal, exactly will it mean to state that Christ is the material cause of justification (which, recall, I am narrowing down to the question of sonship—that is, God’s judgment that we are heirs of eternal life and not condemned to eternal punishment)? Recall that, for Aristotle, a material cause answers the question “from what is x made?”. Thus, if x is a bronze statue, then its material cause will be bronze because it is made from bronze (Byrne 2001). Applied to justification, we might phrase the relevant question as follows: “from what is the justified sinner’s heirship derived? What is the substance that composes or makes up, as it were, the content of a sinner’s right to eternal life”? And here, the answer, as Calvin states, is Christ himself (III.XI.7).

That is, the justified person is justified by the righteousness of Christ. The “stuff” of their title to eternal life and their forgiveness of sins is Christ’s own title to eternal life (merited by his life of perfect obedience) and his satisfaction made on his people’s behalf. To understand this, consider the following analogy. Suppose I am considering throwing a party for a friend. The material cause of my specific logistical thinking—the “stuff” from which such thoughts derive—will be the specific details of the party (e.g., time, invitations, food, place, etcetera). But the formal cause of my sequence of thought will be something like “love for my friend” or “desire to bring joy to my friend through hosting a party.” The organizing pattern, as it were, that inheres in and gives a coherent form to this sequence of thought will be my love or desire oriented towards my friend. In a similar manner, the content of God’s judgment that a person is “in-the-right” will be Christ’s title to eternal life, insofar as God views a Christian as a unity together with Christ as the head of the body. As justification inheres in me, the content of my title to eternal life is in fact Christ’s title to eternal life. But the formal cause of my sharing Christ’s title is, in fact, my union with Christ constituted by the indwelling of the Spirit.

We may summarize justification, then, as such. In Christ’s resurrection, he was justified through the Spirit who effected his resurrection (1 Timothy 3:16). The resurrection of Jesus, then, was the justification of Jesus—the visible, ultimate proclamation that the Messiah is the faithful Israelite, and therefore worthy of God’s kingdom. The verdict pronounced over Jesus at the resurrection is the result of his life of perfect obedience, culminating in his death and resurrection (Barrett 2019, pp. 577–87). The material cause of Jesus’s justification is the title he has to eternal life, whereas this title inheres in the risen Christ in the formality of resurrection (Leithart 2016, pp. 193–215). When a believer puts her faith in Christ, she is thereby united to Christ by this faith—with faith itself bearing, as Edwards calls it, a “natural fitness” to her union with Christ insofar as faith itself is the very act of unition whereby she is united to Christ. The Holy Spirit, who gives the gift of faith, indwells this very same gift. Thus, faith (filled with the habits of right-ordered living to God) is the form of the Spirit’s indwelling the believer. Insofar as Christ indwells the believer by the Spirit, and in the Spirit (owing to perichoresis), the indwelling of the Spirit is the indwelling of Christ in the believer (Rom. 8:9–11; Gal. 4:6–7). If the indwelling of the Spirit is identical to the indwelling of Christ in the believer, and if the form of the Spirit’s indwelling the believer is faith (filled with and characterized by the habits of right-ordered living), then the form of Christ’s indwelling the believer is faith. Faith, in other words, is the way in which Christ indwells the believer. But if a believer is justified, properly speaking, by sharing Christ’s justification through his indwelling, and Christ’s indwelling the believer is faith—filled with the habits of hope and love—then the claim that “faith is the formal cause of justification” is shorthand for “Christ uniting himself to the believer by the Spirit, with such union instantiated in the form of faith, is the formal cause of justification.” And if faith—effective through love—carries the content of our infused righteousness, and so is also our initial infused righteousness, then it is right to say that infused righteousness (insofar as it subsists in and as faith) is the formal cause of justification.4 But properly understood, to say this will be to say that Christ is the formal cause of justification, whose indwelling the soul by the Spirit takes the form of faith-effective-through-love. In this sense, then, we have a foundation for affirming the duplex iustitia: we are justified by infused righteousness (e.g., the habits of righteousness inherent in faith) formally and imputed righteousness (e.g., Christ’s title to eternal life, merited by his life of obedience, shared with us) materially.

One might worry that this formulation throws away the Protestant construal of an iustitia aliena. But it is important to understand just what the claim of an “alien righteousness” amounts to. In Calvin’s antidote to the Council of Trent, he affirms that the righteousness by which we are accepted is not in us, but “borrowed elsewhere.” He links this to Christ’s merits shared with his people (Jean Calvin 1971). In other words, the righteousness of Christ on account of which God accepts us, on my construal, is Christ’s own title to eternal life, not my own. It is because the believer “coalesces”, to use John Owen’s phrase, with Christ that the believer is a sharer in Christ’s title to eternal life—which title was merited by his life of perfect obedience. Luther seems to say something similar in “Two Kinds of Righteousness”, where the phrase explicitly appears. Yet he is clear that he does not think Christ remains ontologically alien to the believer:

“Just as a bridegroom possesses all that is his bride’s and she all that is his—for the two have all things in common because they are one flesh [Gen. 2:24]—so Christ and the church are one spirit [Eph. 5:29–32]…he who trusts in Christ exists in Christ; he is one with Christ, having the same righteousness as he.”

(Luther and Russell 2012, pp. 119–20)

Thus, in admitting the formal cause of justification to be the inhering of Christ in the soul, I am not thereby conceding that which was protected by the iustitia aliena concept: that my being found in-the-right is, in truth, a participation in the title of another. The content of the believer’s title to eternal life is Christ’s title, while the form in which that title comes to be possessed by the believer is the indwelling of Christ by the Spirit. In other words, the aliena in “alien righteousness” does not denote an alienation from the righteousness of Christ, but the fact that my title to eternal life is, in fact, the title of another. Materially, then, this title is “other” (insofar as I do not possess such a title by anything meritorious I have done or am), even if the form in which I come to share that title is my union with Christ. As many of the Reformers never intended to ontologically separate Christ from the believer, but rooted justification in union with Christ, I hope I have successfully had my Roman-Genevan cake and eaten it too.

3. JDDF, Catholic-Reformed International Dialogue, and Limits

After Vatican II, new possibilities for ecumenical dialogue opened up in the Roman church. Her stance towards Protestants notably shifted, using the language of “separated brethren” to describe the Protestant situation. In 1972, the International Catholic-Lutheran Dialogue commenced with the release of the Malta Report. In §26, a consensus was reached in relation to justification as God’s unconditional gift to the believer, which in some sense captures the entirety of salvation. In the 1980s, Lutherans and Roman Catholics found their theologians questioning whether the Reformation Era condemnations still applied—and whether, in fact, the two views were complementary rather than contradictory (Swarat 2021). In 1999, the JDDF was issued by the Lutheran World Federation and representatives from the Roman Catholic Church. A “consensus on certain fundamental truths” was widely proclaimed. However, the JDDF has Protestant and Catholic critics. While the document expresses the inseparability of justification and sanctification, forgiveness and interior renewal, many point out that these points were never in contention in the first place (Nafzger 2001). On the other hand, some are more optimistic—at least by way of arriving at clearer understanding of each other’s position and recognition of significant points of overlap (Petersen 2001).

The JDDF established several key points of agreement between Lutheran and Roman Catholic understandings on justification, while yet leaving several issues untouched. First, it expressed a common understanding that justification happens by faith, through which one is “united with Christ, who is in his person our righteousness: both the forgiveness of sins and the saving presence of God himself” (4.2 §22). Further still, the Holy Spirit is confessed as the agent who unites one to Christ and thereby justifies and renews the person (4.4 §28). Yet the document does not address the issue of imputed righteousness and infused righteousness, which is a rather serious oversight. The document does not state the sense in which Christ is considered the believer’s righteousness, which was a central point of contention at the Reformation (Bray and Gardner 2001). Indeed, Lutherans explicitly distinguished between “inchoate” righteousness and imputed righteousness, arguing that one is justified only by the latter. Roman Catholics maintained that one is justified through the charity which is poured into one’s heart (Anderson et al. 1985, pp. 34–37).

This paper aims to show that a Reformed perspective can also affirm that infused righteousness is the sole formal cause of justification if this infusion is understood to be the form in which Christ through the Holy Spirit indwells the believer. For if “infused righteousness” is the way the Spirit indwells the (created medium of) believer, then she is justified by “infused righteousness” precisely because she is indwelt by the Spirit in this way, and thereby united to Christ. This additional point allows for clarity on the role of the Spirit in justification, and—by centering the Spirit’s work in justification—allows for perhaps one more area of agreement on the formal cause of justification, even if the material cause is still in dispute.

The International Catholic-Reformed dialogue on Justification and Sacramentality in 2015 also centers this point. Chapter 1 §30 even says that, because of Calvin’s insistence on a duplex gratia of justification and sanctification (or interior renewal), which happen through union with Christ, the position rejected by Trent is “not applicable to him.” Yet this document, like the JDDF, does not express agreement over what the formal cause of justification is. In this paper, I have attempted to fill that lacuna by agreeing that there is a specific sense in which the formal cause of justification can be said to be “infused righteousness”: If this term denotes the infusion of a habitus, and if this habitus is in fact the form of the Spirit’s indwelling, who unites us to Christ, then a Reformed Christian can affirm that infused righteousness is the form of justification without conceding imputation. Reformed theology has already affirmed that justification happens only on account of union with Christ anyway.

One will therefore note that my proposal does not resolve all areas of disagreement. For one might very well hold that the indwelling of the Spirit just is the efficient causality of a created grace which itself becomes the form of infused righteousness. This model seems to be in tension with the sketch above—although a possible resolution might be achieved if “alignment” models of union with Christ are coherent (King 2021). Relatedly, my proposal above would be well served if supplemented with a broader, coherent, and ecumenical metaphysics of union with Christ (which I have avoided owing to space). Finally, my proposal does not resolve the issues surrounding temporal and eternal debt; purgatory, mortal and venial sin; and their relation to the state of grace, or related questions of assurance of salvation (Slenczka 2009; Nafzger 2001). Rather, I have sought to enumerate one more potential area of agreement, so that the areas of disagreement might stick out in sharper clarity for the sake of further ecumenical engagement and dialogue.

4. Conclusions: Answering Anticipated Objections

This proposal’s success depends on dispelling multiple potential objections. First, Reformed Protestants may object that I have conflated the mystical union with the spiritual union or “faith-union” with Christ. Vermigli, as noted above, makes this distinction, as do others. As such, my proposal ceases to be truly Reformed and reeks of Osiander-ism. Hence, I will need to defend my identification of these “unions” and address the Osiander controversy. Second, one might object that, by conceding infused righteousness as the formal cause of justification, I have neglected the central issue of the relationship of charity, love, and faith—and its role in justification—and so have only offered a superficial reconciliation. Hence, this point will need treatment. Third, one might argue that I have not adequately and robustly integrated the Reformed insistence on the imputation of Christ’s active and passive obedience.

First, it is true that Vermigli makes such a distinction. Furthermore, a similar distinction can be found in Lutheranism between the unio fidei formalis and the unio mystica. David Hollaz argues that the mystical union is logically posterior to justification but precedes sanctification, even though justification is rooted in a “formal union of faith.” (Cooper 2021, pp. 119–22). One finds a similar assertion in some contemporary Reformed theologians like Michael Horton (2007, p. 147). This is why he distinguishes between “we in Christ” and “Christ in us.” Yet, according to Horton, the Spirit nevertheless serves as the bond between Christ and the believer, such that the Spirit makes the believer a participant in Christ’s justification. According to him, the main issue at stake in the Osiander controversy was Osiander’s claim that we are justified by the essential indwelling of Christ’s divinity, such that Christ’s divinity swallows up our sin (Horton 2018, vol. 1, pp. 195–220).

In §28 of Osiander’s Disputations on Justification, Osiander’s main claims were that the righteousness with which we are justified is the righteousness of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—the divine righteousness, rather than the human righteousness of Christ, and that we were justified by that righteousness through which we are made righteous (Osiander 2023, pp. 315–22). This claim is precisely what Calvin goes after in the Institutes. He responds that Christ’s satisfaction and obedience is applied to us on account of taking on the form of a servant and therein making atonement for us by dying (which is proper to the human nature of Christ) on our account and rising from the dead (III.XI.8). In other words, what is at stake here is the central claim that Christ’s title to eternal life was merited by the course of his obedience in the Incarnation. My model assumes this, as it assumes that the justified believer shares in Christ’s justification pronounced over him in his resurrection.

Second, Calvin takes aim at Osiander’s conflation of justification with regeneration. He argues that, while they are inseparable, they are distinguishable, just as heat and light are inseparable and yet denote different aspects of the selfsame reality (e.g., the earth is not “lighted” by heat or warmed by brightness) (III.XI.6). Now, while my affirmation that infused virtue is the sole formal cause of justification might seem to lapse into Osiander’s contention, attention to the way I have argued this will (I hope) exonerate me from this charge. For in contending that the sole formal cause of justification is infused righteousness (e.g., form in which the Spirit indwells the believer and unites her to Christ), I am not arguing that justification means or denotes this renewal. Rather, I am arguing that the form in which justification inheres in the person justified is infused virtue—which is understood simply to be the way the Spirit of Christ indwells a believer. Justification still denotes, in my view, a legal verdict—and this remains a difference between the Reformed and Roman Catholic accounts of justification. And furthermore, since the verdict pronounced over Christ depends on his life of obedience, the righteousness which justifies is precisely that title to eternal life merited by Christ’s incarnate obedience. I am in no way making God’s essential righteousness part of our justification.

In affirming that justification denotes a legal verdict rather than a concrete change, however, I do not think I am contradicting my affirmation of such infusion as the formal cause of justification. For there are, as argued above, multiple ways to parse out the affirmation that “infused righteousness” is the “formal cause” of justification. For on this model, for a believer to be justified by faith is a shorthand way of saying “she shares in Christ’s title to eternal life by virtue of being one with him by the Spirit’s work, who indwells her as faith”. Or, in other words, it is the verdict that this united-to-Christ member shares the in-the-right title of her head by virtue of being a part or member of that head in the Spirit. On this modification, then, “infused righteousness” ceases to be contrary to imputation, but the formal cause of imputation—e.g., the way imputation inheres in the believer.

Second, I have not yet addressed the relationship between love and faith. If the Spirit’s indwelling is the form of faith, and the Spirit is also the form of love in the believer per Vidu, does this mean that faith somehow includes love? It is important to note that this was the reason Luther rejected the Regensburg colloquy (Lane 2020). Melancthon similarly wished to exclude love from the faith that justifies (Kolb and Wengert 2000, p. 145). Turretin makes love a fruit of faith, fearful that including it into faith could legitimize Rome’s “formed and unformed” faith distinction (Francis Turretin 1992, vol. 1, p. 582). There are two responses to this. First, it should be noted that affirming that the Spirit is the form of faith and the form of love does not mean, thereby, that faith is love. If A causes B, and A causes C, it does not entail that B is in any way a cause of C. For instance, a single light refracted in a room might illumine two orbs in that room, one red and the other purple. The form of the purple orb’s shining and the form of the orbs’ shining is one and the same: the single light being caught in both orbs. Similarly, the Spirit might be the forms of both affections, while yet both affections are distinct in the human spirit.

But further still, there seems to be a strain in the Reformed tradition that does see love as a part of faith. Herman Witsius, for instance, believed that “love of the truth thus known and acknowledged” was a part of faith (Witsius 1837, vol. 1, p. 344). Peter Van Mastricht defines faith as a kind of desiring, which is characterized as (1) “desiring absolutely, without any condition or restriction”, (2) “desiring Christ himself, not only his benefits”, (3) “desiring Christ entirely, not only as Priest or redeemer, but also as King, as Lord”, (4) “not only him entirely but also exclusively”, (5) “not only as king but also as a servant”, and (6) “desiring on those terms the conditions by which he offers himself.” According to Mastricht, how a bride receives a bridegroom is the analogue for faith (van Mastricht 2018, pp. 8–9). This strain of Reformed thought seems the most accurate to the author’s mind. For if, as all sides agree, the only faith that saves is a faith effective in love (Gal. 5:6), then (presumably) there must be something different in the very nature of the faith that saves which makes it effective in love than that which effects no love. In other words, at least the principle of love must be present in faith, or it would not effect it. Whether one wants to call this principle itself a kind of love is not a question I will pursue further here. Suffice it to say that, even if love (or its principle) is present in faith as a constituent element, this does not compromise the Protestant contention. Recall Edwards’ words that faith, though it is an excellent thing, does not justify on account of that excellence. In other words, it is not as though faith (and potentially love latent in faith) justifies because the righteousness of faith and love are deserving of justification, but because these are the bond of the believer’s union with Christ. That which justifies, then, is not any inherent virtue like love—even if such love is part of faith—but Christ, to whom a living faith unites the believer and makes her a sharer in Christ’s own title to eternal life.

Finally, one might object that in this integration, I have failed to adequately treat the imputation of Christ’s active and passive obedience. After all, that which is imputed to us is the perfect obedience of the Savior, is it not (Crowe 2021)? It seems to me that the account here maintains the centrality of the active and passive obedience of Jesus. Properly speaking, it is the resurrection of Jesus that serves as the justification of the believer. Yet Brandon Crowe argues, the resurrection itself assumes the perfect obedience of the Savior, and so the imputation of the verdict pronounced over Jesus assumes his life of perfect obedience—and thereby renders that perfect obedience central to the believer’s share in Christ’s title to eternal life (Barrett 2019, pp. 653–55). Therefore, even if Christ’s obedience is not itself what is imputed to the believer, nevertheless, that which Christ secured by that obedience is: his title to eternal life. Even if one argues that I have slightly shifted the language of imputation, I do not believe I have sacrificed anything essential or even substantially important to what the doctrine of imputation aims to accomplish. My hope is that the reader will find in this account of justification one that is thoroughly Protestant, and yet extends an olive branch to the Roman Catholic on the matter of infused righteousness. My ecumenical aim here has not been to resolve all differences in a perfect harmonization, but to enumerate a possible path for affirming a (not the only) construal of the duplex iustitia: union with the risen Christ is the matter and form of the believer’s justification before God.