Richard Muller has had a long and distinguished career at Calvin Theological Seminary where he was a professor of historical theology. Over the course of his career, he might be said to have taken two parallel, yet distinct, tracks in his scholarship — one part history of theology, one part historical theologian. These are similar, but not the same, and he was always quite clear in his work to distinguish between the two. His Unaccomodated Calvin argued that John Calvin cannot be understood without close and deep attention to his historical context. When he turned to historical theology, he took a different step and attempted to apply what theologians such as Calvin might have to teach the contemporary Church. Along this journey, Muller became quite interested in and devoted significant attention to what has often been pejoratively labeled Protestant Scholasticism — that era of Protestant theology immediately following the deaths of the first generation of Reformers. Muller sought to rehabilitate these figures by looking at them with both a history of theology lens and a historical-theological lens. This Festschrift in his honor reflects all these aspects of his career.

The Festschrift is weighty and thoughtful, as was so much of Protestant Scholasticism, even in its physicality; this book seems to pay homage to Muller’s passion. It is exactly 800 pages, which might also have pleased those Protestant Scholastics who were terribly concerned with theological precision. It is broken into five parts: first generation Reformers (1517–35), second generation Reformers (1535–65), early orthodoxy (1565–1640), high orthodoxy (1640–1725), and late orthodoxy (1725–90). There are fifty-two essays and a complete bibliography of Muller’s writings in the volume. Thus it is impossible even to skim briefly past each one — even to skim past the five large parts. Instead, I will attempt to give a feel for each section and beg the authors’ forgiveness for not wading into each essay.

Part 1 begins with Luther, but connects him to Muller’s wider passions by looking at Luther among early Anglicans. It is indeed a rare gift for a Festschrift to include an essay by one’s Doktorvater; since his career began at the feet of David Steinmetz at Duke, it is most fitting that the Festschrift begin not only with Luther, but with Luther via Steinmetz. Along with Luther, one finds other likely candidates, such as Melanchthon, but also those less well known, such as François Lambert d’Avignon. Part 2 moves not only chronologically, but also geographically, from the Holy Roman Empire to the Swiss Confederation, France, and Italy. It may come as a surprise to some how little John Calvin is featured in this section. Though Muller did write Unaccommodated Calvin, he never focused exclusively on Calvin and his wider focus is also borne out in this section, which features an excellent article on Caracciolo and another on Vermigli. This section also begins to feature articles that more closely approximate historical theology rather than strictly history of doctrine or intellectual history.

Part 3 is the longest section in the book and focuses on, though the section title avoids the word, Protestant orthodoxy. There are nineteen essays in this section straddling, again, the history versus historical-theological divide, and featuring, by my count, ten of his former students as well as a number of his faculty colleagues at Calvin and in the wider Grand Rapids area. The essays here deal with well-known and expected topics: Beza, the Puritans, and the Synod of Dordt, but also essays on people like Piscator, Johann Gerhard, and even early Reformed educational practices in the East Indies. By section 4 we are firmly in the midst of Protestant orthodoxy and Scholasticism. Here are fine essays on Voetius, a surprising essay on a woman exegete by Muller’s longtime friend John Thompson, and a deeply thoughtful essay on Leibniz. There is also in this section a bit of a defensive tone in some of the essays, here exhibiting part of Muller’s argument that Protestant orthodoxy was a vibrant theological age, not the stodgy, dry-as-bones, arid period it is usually described as being. To this reader, however, some of these essays, while trying to disprove the era’s dry-boned theology, seemed to reinforce it. Though the theologians in question were all quite passionate, the work they produced was far less so. The final section is the shortest, but also features some of the Reformed tradition’s most well-known (and still-read) theologians, Francis Turretin and Jonathan Edwards.

This is a large and diverse Festschrift, but also, as I hope is clear, a deeply Mullerish work that is a fitting tribute to the man and the scholar. In its pages, students and scholars will find many essays that will provoke, illuminate, and explicate the past as well as, their authors hope, serve the present age.