Consider the Flowers: Tulip, Daisy, or Dandelion? Part 1

A Missio-Botanical Journey

by Dr. Stephen M. Davis
Some time ago, while debating a certain theological issue, a brother in Christ told me that he could not believe something I had proposed because his theology would not allow it. My tongue-in-cheek riposte was that perhaps the problem was that it was indeed “his theology” and maybe he needed to rethink his theology. My point was not only that I thought I was right—which we all think to some degree, or else we should make needed corrections—but that we never arrive at a point where our theology cannot be corrected, better articulated, or become more balanced and scriptural. Of course, I realize that there may be those who identify what they believe on all points of doctrine as “the faith once delivered to the saints,” hold all truth with the same degree of certitude, and claim that from their earliest days of theological study they have not changed one jot or tittle. They may learn little from this essay and appreciate it even less. Another perspective might offer us the opportunity to achieve greater balance in our theological perspectives while remaining committed to unchanging, fundamental truths (those without which one could not be called “Christian”).

I have chosen to venture into a discussion that has been hotly debated for centuries: the Calvinism-Arminianism controversy. Few subjects have caused more debate and division among Christians. I offer neither new ground here nor a proposal for resolution. It is a personal journey, and I do not assume that others have trodden the same paths. If you are looking for a scholarly exposé and detailed exegesis, read no further; you will be disappointed. My goal is modest. I simply want to explain what has transpired in my life and in my ministry perspective over the years in seeking to better understand the Word of God.

I have been a Christian for over thirty years and will never forget the day when God graciously saved me. Yet I have often asked, “Why me?” My dad was a prison guard for over twenty years in the Philadelphia prison system. I was often on the other side of the bars, a high school dropout with multiple arrests ranging from gang fighting in 1968, when the summer riots spilled over into the schools, to drug and weapons possession. God rescued me from a dissolute lifestyle and miraculously transformed my life. Within a year of my conversion, I was a student at Bob Jones University (Greenville, SC). I was admitted on academic probation and court supervised probation after meeting Dr. Bob Jr., who personally interceded on my behalf. Shortly after I became a believer, many of my closest drug buddies from Philadelphia, those who weren’t in prison, died either from overdose, shootings, suicide, or other premature causes. I was so grateful that God saved me from hell, yet still asked, “Why?” I know that God used a human instrument, my brother John, who was burdened for my soul, earnestly prayed with many others for my salvation, and genuinely believed that God loved me and that Christ had died for me. My wife, Kathy, was a freshman at BJU when my brother, John, asked the student body to pray for me before Christmas break in 1973. She prayed for her husband before she knew him. I was saved shortly before Christmas that year. To this day I realize that apart from God’s grace, His divine initiative, I would still be lost or perhaps dead already and eternally separated from God. How grateful I am that God saved me! Oh the wonder of His marvelous grace! [1]

From my earliest years as a believer, I was confronted with Calvinism and Arminianism—or at least sometimes their caricatures—and was warned by one group or the other about the other. My theological training over the years has given me significant exposure to adherents of both persuasions and time for reflection on both positions. During my undergraduate years at BJU, I became acquainted with Calvinism’s “Tulip” and Arminianism’s “Daisy.” A group of us took great sophomoric delight in singing little caricatured ditties about each position. “For God so loved the elect, He died for the select, the Tulip is so clear … ” and “Daisy, daisy did you lose it too; fall from grace now what has become of you … ” There’s more, but I’ll spare you. Yes, I know it sounds irreverent, but we were college students after all. During graduate studies I had the privilege of sitting under godly, scholarly men like Sinclair Ferguson (RTS) and Grant Osborne (TEDS) who, as you might guess, represent divergent soteriological points of view.

My studies at Reformed Theological Seminary were straightforwardly Reformed and strangely refreshing. Frankly I didn’t like all I heard, and some might question if I really learned anything. Nevertheless, my studies at RTS did enable me to have some exposure to an unabashed Calvinistic approach to Scripture and an appreciation for theologians of that persuasion. My doctoral studies at Trinity were, strictly speaking, more missiological than theological, although one is the mother of the other depending on whether you are a missiologist or a theologist. Once again I sat under men with impeccable evangelical credentials and a high commitment to the final authority of Scripture. Yet there appeared to be an amiable cohabitation between those who were at different points along the theological spectrum, at least from an outsider’s view. Perhaps it was, after all, a grudging tolerance, but the mutual respect certainly appeared genuine.

In addition to my theological studies, ministry experience has contributed to my thinking in this area. God has graciously given me the opportunity to be involved in cross-linguistic church planting ministry in France and Romania. Of course, this involved working and expressing theological concepts in foreign languages. I have also had the privilege to teach in a number of other countries, including Russia, Ukraine, Lebanon, South Africa, Peru, and some restricted-access nations (RAN). Teaching overseas also gave me the opportunity to engage in lengthy nighttime discussions with a dear brother in Christ who embraces Calvinism heartedly. If it were other than my friend Dr. Jeff Straub, professor at Central Baptist Theological Seminary (Plymouth, MN), I might not mention his name. Long into the night in Moscow or Kiev after a day of teaching, Jeff and I discussed and settled for all time issues related to Calvinism, accessibilism, and cessationism. I’m afraid we never convinced each other of anything. Yet Jeff helped remove one caricature of Calvinists that I had often heard. His passion for ministry, for souls, and for those who have yet to hear the gospel inspired me and put to rest the canard that Calvinism inexorably extinguishes the fire of evangelism.

My exposure to Christians in other cultures has given me some limited insight into theological thinking in non-Western cultures. Actually some of my best times of theological reflection happened in responding to questions from students and realizing how conditioned I was to looking at Scripture through my cultural lens. I do not mean to suggest that there is no continuity in modes of thinking among peoples in different cultures or that the discontinuity is so great that outsider concepts cannot be translated and appropriated by non-Western thinkers. We cannot enter another culture without our theology and certainly need to seek to make plain the truth of Scripture. However, in my opinion it is a mistake to assume that we can simply transpose our systematized theological concepts and expect that Christians will follow our logic of interpretation.

The above-mentioned observation might be applied to many theological positions, but perhaps none is as glaring as the attempt to make Calvinism or Arminianism the governing position in transferring theology to new converts who have never been exposed to Reformed thinking (here I’m including both Calvinism and Arminianism). It seems to me that if we teach an inflexible system, although we must teach out of our system, we do a great disservice to the believers we seek to disciple and pastors we seek to train. It may well be that those we instruct will lean one way or the other, but we need to keep in mind that these systems arose in a particular historical context and controversy. We must not refuse to deal with controversial or potentially divisive issues since that would truncate our message. Yet we must not impose a ready-made system without allowing believers in their context to wrestle with these questions in accordance with their patterns of thinking. The result might be richer and more biblical than either of the positions under discussion.

I am not suggesting that there are only two positions in this debate, although for the sake of simplicity and without wanting to sound reductionist I will often speak in this manner. Of course, you could be “high” or “low” in both positions and “hyper” one way or the other, or of the “head” or of the “heart”; but normally you fall, are pushed into, or are classed inevitably into one or the other persuasion even if you choose another designation like “Biblicists.” However, I imagine that most evangelically minded Calvinists and Arminians consider themselves “Biblicists” in the sense of being committed to believe whatever the Bible says and not to follow a man or a system. Some might argue that they in fact do follow a man, either Calvin or Arminius, but I think they would respond that they follow the man only as the man himself follows Scripture.

There may actually be a third position midway between the Tulip and the Daisy, which we might call “Dandelion” from the French dent-de-lion, which is literally “lion’s tooth.” (The French word for dandelion pissenlit also has an interesting etymology, but in the interest of delicacy I will pass on that). “Dandelion’s” French etymology may be a stumbling block for some, but I remind you that Calvin was born in Noyon, France (where there’s a nice little museum), about an hour from where I lived for over five years and about one-and-a-half hours from where I am writing this article just outside of Paris. I am not a horticulturist, but it seems to me that the dandelion is a weed. Of course, you can make salad from the leaves, so it is not just a useless weed. However, when compared to the tulip and daisy, the dandelion may appear somewhat drab although I must say that a field of dandelions has a certain beauty. I might be a dandelion. I don’t know for sure. Using it as an acrostic would be hard. Yet I am not tulipy enough for the Tulips nor daisy enough for the Daisies. Both flowers may look down on the weedy dandelion. But as they say in French—ça m’est égal (I don’t care)!

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1. My “anonymous” testimony can be found in the book By the Grace of God by Dr. Bob Jones III in the chapter titled “Prison Guard’s Son.”

Dr. Stephen M. Davis is associate pastor and director of missions at Calvary Baptist Church. He holds a B.A from Bob Jones University, an M.A. in Theological Studies from Reformed Theological Seminary (Orlando, FL), an M.Div. from Calvary Baptist Theological Seminary (Lansdale, PA), and a D.Min. in Missiology from Trinity Evangelical Divinity School (Deerfield, IL). Steve has been a church planter in Philadelphia, France, and Romania.