This simple observation deeply disturbed Relly, for he saw the problem and had no idea what the solution was. He went away and read around the subject, but found no help from any books. Thus, he says, “I applied myself more carefully to the reading and the study of the scriptures, as without notes, or expositions: submitting in spirit, unto Him.”223 And in this way, setting aside the thoughts of others and simply reading the Bible, he found what he considered the solution to his problem—the union of Christ and his church.
The notion of the union Christ and his church was not new. Indeed, it was a staple of New Testament and Reformed theology. Relly, however, took it to a new level and made it the key to his entire theological system. Jesus had been joined with his church in such a way that what was true of him was true of them, and what was true of them was true of him. He was the head and they were his body (Rom 12:5; 1 Cor 12:27; Eph 1:22–23); he was the vine and they were the branches (John 15).224 Because Christ and his church are, in the eyes of God, united as “one flesh” (Eph 5:29–32), he can be “made sin” for them (2 Cor 5:21), even though in himself he is personally sinless. By standing as the head of the human race he can rightly be punished on their behalf because, through his union with sinners, he is not an innocent bystander, but genuinely shares in their guilt. Thus, “[t]he Union and harmony of the Body, renders it equitable to punish, and chastise the whole Body, in one Member, for its offence in another: . . . As the Union of the body makes it equitable to punish the head for the offence of the other members; with like equity doth the members participate with the head in all its honours and glory.”225 Relly thus felt he had solved his core problem. When Christ dies for our sins, we die in him. And the reverse is true, in his resurrection we are raised with him (Col 3:1), in his ascension we are seated in heavenly places in him (Eph 2:6). Through union with him we are elect sons (Eph 1:4), beloved of God (John 17:23), righteous (2 Cor 5:21), and obedient. Christ is all these things and in him so are we. Only in this way, says Relly, can God’s goodness and justice can be held in harmony.
Human history, for Relly, boils down to the story of just two people—Adam and Christ. Both stand as representatives for the whole race. In union with Adam, all sinned and all died; in union with Christ, all will be made alive (Rom 5:19).226
The free gift came upon all men, unto justification of life—Upon all on whom judgment came unto condemnation. Hence, it is true beyond all controversy, that, as all Adam’s offspring, by means of his offence, were brought under judgment to condemnation; so it is equally true, that, by means of Christ’s righteousness, Adam and all his offspring were brought under the free gift of justification unto eternal life.227
As we were all “in Adam” before even we were born, so too we were all “in Christ” before the foundation of the world. This is why Relly was a universalist.228 He saw Christ as “including mankind”229 and having already accomplished redemption for all people, undoing the damnation of all in Adam.
However, we need to appreciate that the universal reach of salvation was not a primary interest to Relly; it was neither the foundation nor the goal of his doctrine of union with Christ—after all, “[i]f there was but one person in all the world to be saved, it would be no argument against the truth of the doctrine of Union.”230 His real focus was the method of salvation, not its scope.231 He saw a clear biblical teaching to be affirmed alongside others in the universality of salvation, and so he integrated it into his understanding of union,232 but while he affirmed universal salvation, he said that he would not have been especially concerned to drop it should he be persuaded that it was wrong.233
According to Relly, salvation is already completely accomplished in Christ. Sin has been forever and finally dealt with. There is absolutely nothing for us to do, nothing that we can add to it. The shocking implication he drew from this is that repentance, faith, and obedience are not conditions placed on us in order to be saved. The world is already united to Christ and saved in Christ, irrespective of its response to God. “Your unbelief cannot make his grace of none effect.”234 We do not need to see good fruit in our lives or to feel an assurance in our hearts to know that we are saved, because our confidence of salvation should have nothing to do with what we do or how we feel. Our confidence is founded in Christ and his work alone.
This is the reason that Relly accused his fellow Evangelicals of trying to add to the finished work of Jesus and achieve salvation by human works—for they did look for appropriate human responses (faith, repentance, obedience) or feelings (inner assurance) as essential grounds for having confidence that we will be saved. It is also why they accused him of antinomianism, of teaching that it does not matter how we live, because we will all be saved regardless. Both sides in the dispute thought that the other taught a dangerous and false gospel, and arguably both sides were less than charitable in their interpretations of each other.
Relly was not, of course, against inward assurances from the Spirit or faith in Christ or good works. Rather, what he was desperate to make clear was that these things were not conditions of our salvation or the grounds of our confidence in our salvation.
But what about all those biblical texts that do appear to make salvation dependent on our response? Here Relly seeks to distinguish different biblical uses of the term “salvation.”235 There is “everlasting salvation,” the state in which Christ has placed humanity before God in himself. This salvation, as we have seen, is completely independent of our knowledge of it or our response to it.
[T]he elect, precious, the predestined to eternal life; and such are the people in him: . . . This is their election. Christ also sustained the reprobate character, when made sin for us, and when encompassed with the sorrows of death and the pains of hell. And as to universal salvation: He is also the truth of that. For, though we do see not yet all the individuals of Adam’s race, as such, brought up, through the knowledge of Christ, to the great salvation: in him, all are taught of God [John 6:45]: in him, all know God, from the greatest to the least [Jer 31:34].236
But there is also a sense of “salvation” that concerns our experience of joy and peace and freedom from guilt and sin. This salvation is the fruit of conscious faith in the gospel and so in this sense of the term only believers are saved. Here salvation does depend on our faithful and obedient response to God, though we must recognize that even that response is a response that God himself, by his Spirit, graciously enables. Indeed, our repentance and faith and obedience are really an experiential participation in Christ’s own vicarious repentance and faith and obedience.237 “So truly through Faith we understand our Union with Christ; yet it is not our Faith that makes it.”238 “[B]y conditional salvation, I understand present salvation, or the salvation of Christ, enjoyed in this life: the conditions of obtaining and rejoicing in which, are undoubtedly faith and obedience.”239 This conditional salvation may come to us instantaneously or gradually, according to how God reveals himself to us.
Relly argues that for the time being God, according to his sovereign will, has chosen to reveal himself to a limited few. While all people are saved in the objective sense, only a few now experience the joy and freedom of that salvation. This is how Relly interprets talk of “the elect.”
[T]he elect are not a people chosen to be objects of God’s love and salvation, to the final exclusion of others: but a people chosen to believe the truth, and to rejoice in the salvation of Jesus in time; while others remain in a state of ignorance, of what they are equally entitled to with the elect. The elect, who are predestinated to the present knowledge, and enjoyment of eternal life, can only attain this happiness through faith and obedience. . . . Election and Predestination, thus considered, are no denial to salvation finished for all, in the person of Christ; nor is it an objection to the future happiness of all; for whom Christ died: nay, it rather supposes it; if the predestinate and elect are so called, from their being chosen to believe, and enjoy in time, what the residue neithe
r know, nor enjoy but in eternity.240
What of hell? We have seen that Relly retained a belief that sin deserves to be punished with “eternal death.”241 However, given that Christ has now fully paid our debt, God, being just, will not punish the same sins a second time. Consequently, nobody will go to hell.
All mankind, by means of transgression, had rendered themselves obnoxious to everlasting punishment; but Jesus gave himself as a ransom for all, by taking on him their condition, and exposing himself to all their woes: hence on the ransom’s being found, they were delivered from going down to the pit. If Jesus gave himself as a ransom for all, then are all ransomed.242
However, Relly still retained a place in his system for sinners to face post-mortem torments. This is because, not having believed the gospel, they do not realize that they are saved and so suffer deep anguish with the sense of guilt and fear: “for men may, by unbelief, retain and hold fast to their guilt, and fear, and torment, the iniquities which the blood of Jesus hath expiated, and which God hath justified them from.”243 This “cannot be a state of punishment,”244 but is rather self-inflicted mental torments, pictured in Scripture as undying fire and gnawing worms. This unbelieving condition may well last for a very long time, but in the end Christ will reveal himself to these sinners too, and they will be saved in both senses of the term. Then will be the end of the ages and God will be all in all.
It is clear that Relly was no liberal; his theology, while having a unique configuration, remained deeply Evangelical and indeed Calvinist. In his mind, all that he was doing was seeking to be a consistent Bible believer, finding a way to hold together divine justice and a penal substitutionary atonement. The theology by which he sought to do this was idiosyncratic and in certain aspects rather problematic, but it was profoundly Christocentric and arguably not without its insights.
John Murray (1741–1816) and Judith Sargent Murray (1751–1820)
The story
James Relly’s greatest influence was not through his own preaching and publications, but through the ministry of one of his converts, John Murray.
Murray was born in Hampshire in 1741 and baptized into the Church of England. His father was a rigid Calvinist, and John’s very strict upbringing instilled “more fear than affection for my father” (8).245 The Calvinism he learned at home caused him terror and extreme inner agonies concerning whether he was among the elect: “In fact, I believed that I had nothing to hope, but everything to fear, both from my Creator, and my [human] father” (12).
When John was eleven, the family moved to Cork in Ireland. Around this time, the Methodists appeared and John’s father, eager for enthusiastic religion, got involved with them. John Wesley himself was “a great admirer of my father, and he distinguished him beyond any individual in the society” (18). John too was enamored by the Methodists, and was invited by Wesley to be the leader of a class of forty boys (18). This was a happier time in John’s life, though doubts continued, and so did his emotional mountains and valleys. Wesley continued to pay him considerable attention and had great hopes for him, though was perturbed by the continuing commitment to Calvinism by John and his father (25–26). The hostility of the Methodists with whom he associated to his Calvinism was increasing, but an opportunity to spend time with the Calvinist evangelist George Whitefield in Cork in 1760 greatly encouraged him (60–61).
Murray left Ireland for London and joined Whitefield’s congregation. He also fell in love with Miss Eliza Neale and they eventually got married. It was in London that he first heard of James Relly. He presents his conversion to Relly’s teaching as akin to the conversion of St. Paul. He came across one of Relly’s preachers speaking in the open air in Moorfields, and writes that on learning of the damnable doctrines being preached:
My soul kindled with indignation . . . I could not forbear explaining: Merciful God! How is it that Thou wilt suffer this Demon to proceed?. . . . At this period, I should have considered my self highly favoured, to have been made an instrument, in the hand of God, for taking the life of a man, whom I had never heard, nor even seen; and in destroying him, I should have nothing doubted, that I had rendered essential service, both to the Creator and the created. (79)
Over the next few years, Murray heard and believed all sorts of horror stories spoken against Relly, and his hatred of the man grew (91). One significant incident for him was an occasion when he decided to try to win back a pious young woman from Whitefield’s Tabernacle who had been ensnared by Relly’s doctrine (90–93). He took some friends with him to converse with her. However, to his embarrassment, she very gently outfoxed him in theological debate. The issue under discussion was the role of unbelief in damnation. The woman’s argument was that if Jesus is not the Savior of unbelievers before they come to believe then God cannot condemn them for not believing that Jesus is their Savior. “It appears to me, sir, that Jesus is the complete Saviour of unbelievers; and that unbelievers are called upon to believe the truth; and that by believing they are saved, in their own apprehension, saved from all those dreadful fears, which are consequent upon a state of conscious condemnation” (92). You yourself, she said, were once not a believer, and yet Christ died for you as Savior before you came to faith. Your faith did not turn Jesus from non-Savior to Savior. Faith, rather, is a response to salvation accomplished. Murray did not know how to reply and left humiliated and angry. He now “carefully avoided every Universalist, and most cordially did I hate them” (93).
The next significant event in his conversion was when Mr. Mason, a member of Whitefield’s congregation, asked Murray to give feedback on the draft manuscript of an attempted rebuttal of Relly’ Union. This Murray did, but at one point he found himself deeply unsatisfied with Mason’s argument against Relly—something that he deeply lamented, because he still considered Mason to be on the side of truth. So he pointed out the problem in the argument. To his horror, Mason published the work as it stood and ignored Murray from that point on (95–97).
The final steps came when John happened across a copy of Union at the house of his wife’s uncle and aunt. He borrowed it and began to read, very alert to its being a dangerous and poisonous book, but convinced that God would protect his elect (97). John and Eliza read it together, looking up all the biblical texts cited, and their perceptions of Relly and his views began to shift. The more he read of Relly’s work, the more convinced he became that the man’s detractors had significantly misrepresented him. An inner battle was being fought in Murray over the next few months as he wrestled with the new ideas. So John and Eliza decided to go and hear Relly, and the dam broke. He commented later that “I was constrained to believe, that I had never, until this moment, heard the Redeemer preached; . . . I attended with my whole soul. I was humbled, I was confounded.” On the way home, he said to his wife, “I have never heard truth, unadulterated truth before. . . . It is the first consistent sermon I have ever heard” (100). From this moment on, Murray was an unflinching Rellyan. News of their attendance at Relly’s meetings got out, and they were expelled from the Whitefield’s Tabernacle (102–3).
A series of calamities followed John after this: those religious friends who once supported him now claimed back what they had given, forcing him into the hands of bailiffs. He was condemned to poverty. Then his one-year-old son died, after which his traumatized wife took ill and also died. His own health began to fail. There was nothing left “but the ghosts of my departed joys” (109). Now his creditors closed in and he was taken to a sponging-house (a place of temporary confinement for debtors), where he reached an all-time low, even contemplating suicide (113). His desire now was simply “to pass through life, unheard, unseen, unknown to all, as though I ne’er had been” (118). A chance meeting with a man from America led Murray to leave Britain for a new life of solitude and anonymity in the New World.
He set sail for New York in 1770, but the boat got lost in fog and a navigational mistake led them to run aground near
Cranberry Inlet, New Jersey. Disembarking, Murray wandered into the woods and met an old man called Thomas Potter (1689–1777), who gave him food and a bed for the night. Potter had been converted to universalism years earlier by some itinerants from the Ephrata Community, and had felt God tell him to build a meetinghouse for a preacher whom God would send. In spite of mockery from locals, Potter continued to trust that God would send the preacher. As soon as he saw the boat, he felt what seemed like an audible voice saying, “There, Potter, in that vessel, cast away on that shore, is the preacher, you have been long expecting” (127).
Being a public teacher of universalism was the last thing Murray had wanted to do in America, not least because he knew that his message would generate considerable opposition from established clergy, but he eventually came to see the hand of God in the events that had led him there and took up residence as the preacher (127–34), using his new home as a base for preaching tours into rural New Jersey, New York, Philadelphia, Newport, Providence, Boston, Newburyport, Portsmouth, East Greenwich, and New London, vowing not to ever take any fee for his ministry. Unsurprisingly, Murray’s message was a polarizing one, and his autobiography records some of the incidents of welcome and strong opposition he faced over the years of his ministry.
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