Theological Term of the Week: Belgic Confession

Belgic Confession
The oldest of the doctrinal standards of the Reformed Churches of the Netherlands, written mainly by Guido de Bres, a preacher of the Reformed churches of the Netherlands, in 1561.      

• From the Belgic Confession:

Article XIX. The Union and Distinction of the Two Natures in the Person of Christ

We believe that by this conception the person of the Son is inseparably united and connected with the human nature; so that there are not two Sons of God, nor two persons, but two natures united in one single person; yet each nature retains its own distinct properties. As, then, the divine nature has always remained uncreated, without beginning of days or end of life, filling heaven and earth, so also has the human nature not lost its properties but remained a creature, having beginning of days, being a finite nature, and retaining all the properties of a real body. And though He has by His resurrection given immortality to the same, nevertheless He has not changed the reality of His human nature; forasmuch as our salvation and resurrection also depend on the reality of His body. But these two natures are so closely united in one person that they were not separated even by His death. Therefore that which He, when dying, commended into the hands of His Father, was a real human spirit, departing from His body. But in the meantime the divine nature always remained united with the human, even when He lay in the grave; and the Godhead did not cease to be in Him, any more than it did when He was an infant, though it did not so clearly manifest itself for a while. Wherefore we confess that He is very God and very man: very God by His power to conquer death; and very man that He might die for us according to the infirmity of His flesh.

• From Living for God’s Glory by Joel Beeke, page 21:

The Belgic Confession’s chief author was Guido de Bres (1522-1567), an itenerant Reformed pastor. During the sixteenth century, the Reformed churches in the Netherlands experienced severe persecution at the hands of King Philip II of Spain, an ally of the Roman Catholic Church. In 1561, de Bres, likely assisted by fellow pastors, wrote the confession to prove that the adherents of the Reformed faith were not rebels but law-abiding citizens who professed biblical doctrines.

The year after it was written, a copy of the confession was sent to Philip II, along with a statement that the petitioners were ready to obey the government in all things lawful, but would “offer their backs to stripes, their tongues to knives, their mouths to gags, and their whole bodies to the fire, well knowing that those who follow Christ must take up His cross and deny themselves” rather than deny the truth expressed in the confession. Neither the confession nor the petition persuaded Spanish authorities to be more tolerant of the Protestants, however. In 1567, de Bres became one martyr among hundreds who sealed their faith with blood. Nevertheless, his work has endured as a convincing statement of Reformed doctrine.

Learn more:

1. Got Questions: What is the Belgic Confession?
2. The Gospel Coalition: The Belgic Confession
3. Cornelius Venema: The Belgic Confession
4. Joel Beeke: The Belgic Confession of Faith and the Canons of Dordt
5. Kim Riddlebarger: A Commentary on the Belgic Confession
6. Kevin DeYoung: The Belgic Confession and the Hero No One Remembers

Related terms:

• Augsburg Confession
• London Baptist Confession of Faith of 1689
• Second Helvetic Confession
• Westminster Confession of Faith

Filed under Creeds and Confessions

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Sunday Hymn: Here, O My Lord, I See Thee Face to Face

Here, O my Lord, I see Thee face to face;
Here would I touch and han­dle things un­seen;
Here grasp with firm­er hand eter­nal grace,
And all my wea­ri­ness up­on Thee lean.

Here would I feed upon the bread of God,
Here drink with Thee the roy­al wine of Heav’n;
Here would I lay aside each earth­ly load,
Here taste afresh the calm of sin for­giv­en.

This is the hour of ban­quet and of song;
This is the heav­en­ly ta­ble spread for me;
Here let me feast, and feast­ing, still pro­long
The hal­lowed hour of fel­low­ship with Thee.

Too soon we rise; the sym­bols dis­ap­pear;
The feast, tho’ not the love, is past and gone.
The bread and wine re­move; but Thou art here,
Nearer than ev­er, still my shield and sun.

I have no help but Thine; nor do I need
Another arm save Thine to lean up­on;
It is enough, my Lord, enough in­deed;
My strength is in Thy might, Thy might alone.

I have no wis­dom save in Him who is
My wis­dom and my teach­er both in One;
No wis­dom can I lack while Thou art wise;
No teach­ing do I crave save Thine alone.

Mine is the sin, but Thine the right­eous­ness:
Mine is the guilt, but Thine the cleans­ing blood;
Here is my robe, my re­fuge, and my peace;
Thy blood, Thy right­eous­ness, O Lord my God!

I know that dead­ly ev­ils com­pass me,
Dark per­ils threat­en, yet I would not fear,
Nor poor­ly shrink, nor feeb­ly turn to flee,
Thou, O my Christ, art buck­ler, sword and spear.

But see, the pil­lar cloud is ris­ing now,
And mov­ing on­ward thro’ the des­ert night;
It beck­ons, and I fol­low, for I know
It leads me to the her­it­age of light.

Feast af­ter feast thus comes and pass­es by;
Yet, pass­ing, points to the glad feast ab­ove,
Giving sweet fore­taste of the fes­tal joy,
The Lamb’s great brid­al feast of bliss and love.

—Horatius Bonar

Sunday Hymn: Fill Thou My Life

Fill Thou my life, O Lord my God,
In ev­ery part with praise,
That my whole be­ing may pro­claim
Thy be­ing and Thy ways.
Not for the lip of praise alone,
Nor e’en the prais­ing heart
I ask, but for a life made up
Of praise in ev­ery part!

Praise in the com­mon words I speak,
Life’s com­mon looks and tones,
In fel­low­ship in hearth and board
With my be­lov­èd ones;
Not in the tem­ple crowd alone
Where ho­ly voic­es chime,
But in the si­lent paths of earth,
The qui­et rooms of time.

Fill ev­ery part of me with praise;
Let all my be­ing speak
Of Thee and of Thy love, O Lord,
Poor though I be, and weak.
So shalt Thou, Lord, from me, e’en me,
Receive the glo­ry due;
And so shall I be­gin on earth
The song for­ev­er new.

So shall each fear, each fret, each care
Be turned in­to a song,
And ev­ery wind­ing of the way
The echo shall pro­long;
So shall no part of day or night
From sac­red­ness be free;
But all my life, in ev­ery step
Be fel­low­ship with Thee.

—Horatius Bonar