1) Martin Luther and the "95 Theses"

In 1517, Martin Luther published the "95 Theses," publicly challenging the authority of the Catholic Church, and the Reformation broke out as a result. Protestantism rose accordingly, emphasizing "Justification by Faith" and "Sola Scriptura" (Scripture Alone), negating the church's intermediary position in salvation, and advocating that the final authority of faith exists only within the Bible and personal conscience. England quickly followed up on this reform, but the problem lay in the fact that the English Reformation was, from the very beginning, a reform of "politics first, religion halfway." In 1534, Henry VIII broke with the Roman Curia and established the Church of England, but the reality was: in doctrine, it partially absorbed Protestant thought, yet in structure, ritual, and the episcopal system, it highly retained the old framework of Catholicism. Before continuing the discussion on the Puritans, it is necessary to first clarify the relationship between Christianity, Catholicism, Orthodoxy, and Protestantism. Christianity is a general term referring to all religious traditions that recognize Jesus as "Christ," acknowledge his suffering and resurrection, and take the Bible as the core of faith. It is not a single church, but a collection of a whole set of faith systems revolving around Jesus. Around the same Jesus, different institutions and authority structures gradually formed in history, thus branching into major traditions such as Catholicism, Orthodoxy, and Protestantism. The key to the disagreement has never been "whether or not to believe in Jesus," but "who has the right to interpret faith and manage the church."

Both Catholicism and Orthodoxy consider themselves to have inherited the orthodox tradition of early Christianity, emphasizing sacraments, tradition, and the clerical system, but fundamental disagreements appeared in their authority structures. Catholicism is centered in Rome, recognizing that the Pope possesses the supreme power of adjudication over the universal church, and believes the church itself, through historical traditions and various councils, constitutes part of the authority of faith; Orthodoxy rejects papal supremacy and advocates that autonomous churches in various places jointly guard tradition. The two are highly similar in doctrinal content, yet irreconcilable on the question of "to whom the final power of adjudication belongs." The appearance of Protestantism directly negated the logic shared by Catholicism and Orthodoxy that "the church is the authority." In the 16th-century Reformation, Protestant thought represented by Martin Luther proposed "Scripture Alone" and "Justification by Faith," believing that a person's salvation does not depend on church rituals or clerical mediation, but depends on the faith relationship between the individual and God. This principle chain-negated papal authority, weakened the intermediary status of sacraments, and released the power of Biblical interpretation from the church structure. Protestantism is therefore not a unified church, but a collection of denominations sharing these principles.

The fundamental difference between Catholicism and Protestantism does not lie in ritual style, but in the source of power. Catholicism believes that the Bible, church tradition, and church authority together constitute the system of truth, and the church is the intermediary system of salvation; Protestantism believes that only the Bible has final authority, and the church is merely a gathering of believers. The former emphasizes hierarchy, ritual, and historical continuity; the latter emphasizes personal conscience, preaching, and de-hierarchicalization. This difference determines the two's fundamentally different understandings of politics, social order, and individual responsibility. The reason why the Church of England is called "doctrinally semi-Protestant" is precisely because it made concessions to Protestantism in theological texts, yet retained the skeleton of Catholicism in institutions and rituals. England's break with Rome was mainly due to political needs: negating papal authority, introducing English-language worship, and absorbing some Protestant doctrines; but at the same time, it completely retained the episcopal system, the parish structure, the personnel system of state control over the church, and a large number of traditional rituals and prayers. This deliberate compromise was beneficial to national governance, yet in the eyes of the Puritans, it meant a betrayal of principle—authority was merely transferred from the church to the state, rather than being thoroughly returned to the Bible and faith itself.

The true ideological background of the Puritans came from John Calvin, not Luther. Calvin was born in France and initially received a legal education. His father worked in the church system and hoped he would enter a mixed church-legal upward channel, so he first sent him to study humanities and later turned to law. Calvin received strict legal training in Paris, Orléans, and other places, becoming familiar with Roman law, textual interpretation, logical deduction, and institutional design. His life trajectory took a turn originating from an inaugural speech at the Sorbonne Divinity School of the University of Paris on November 1, 1533. The formal background of the Sorbonne was the Divinity School of the University of Paris, and the University of Paris had been one of the most important academic authorities in the Western European Catholic world since the 13th century. The Sorbonne was originally founded by Robert de Sorbon with the goal of providing education for poor divinity students, but it quickly developed into an institution specializing in adjudicating theological orthodoxy. By the time of the Reformation, the "opinion of the Sorbonne" was almost equivalent to the "orthodox Catholic position," possessing authoritative efficacy in France and even the entire Latin Christian world. The Sorbonne not only studied theology but also adjudicated what was "orthodoxy" and what was "heresy." It possessed the power to censor books, evaluate preaching, and provide opinions on religious legitimacy to royal power. The King of France often needed the theological endorsement of the Sorbonne in religious matters; conversely, the Sorbonne also relied on royal power to execute the suppression of heresy. This highly interdependent relationship made the Sorbonne a core node in the state-church alliance.

It was precisely in this inaugural speech that Nicolas Cop emphasized that the foundation of a Christian's salvation does not lie in external institutions, but in internal faith. The reason a person becomes a true Christian lies not in how many rituals they observe or how many good works they complete, but in whether they truly understand and accept the Gospel itself. This expression appeared mild in language, yet precisely touched the core proposition of the Reformation—Justification by Faith. In the Catholic context, faith must be completed through the church, sacraments, and good works; while in the Protestant context, faith itself is the sufficient condition leading to salvation. More provocatively, this speech weakened or even evaded the status of the church as an intermediary. The speech did not emphasize church tradition, papal authority, or clerical hierarchy, but repeatedly cited Biblical texts, implying that the Bible itself is already sufficient to guide believers in understanding the truth. This was still in Latin in form and still occurred on a university podium, but in logic, it was already very close to the position of "Scripture Alone." To the Sorbonne Divinity School, this was almost equivalent to denying the fundamental reason for its existence. At the same time, this speech also carried clear crossover colors of humanism and reformist factions, criticizing empty scholastic theology and satirizing those academic traditions obsessed with formal debate yet neglecting the spirit of Christ itself. Such criticism was not rare in Renaissance humanism, but in the political environment of France in the 1530s, this discourse already highly overlapped with Lutheran and reformist thoughts. When academic criticism begins to point at church authority itself, it is no longer just an academic issue.

In the University of Paris, an institution symbolizing Catholic orthodoxy, the Rector's inaugural speech was regarded as a public statement of position toward the state and the church. In other words, it was equivalent to declaring in an official setting: the holder of the highest position in the university holds a fundamental attitude of doubt toward the Catholic system of salvation. Because of this, this speech was identified as a "text with heretical tendencies" almost without needing a word-by-word censorship. It triggered not a theological debate, but a political reaction. Cop was quickly investigated and forced to flee, and the young scholars whose ideological circles highly overlapped with him—including John Calvin—immediately became potential targets for purging. The Sorbonne Divinity School had clearly determined that a network of reformist thought existed within the University of Paris. What happened next was not public debate, but investigation, accusation, and listing. The Sorbonne initiated heresy review procedures, and royal power intervened. Calvin's problem lay in the fact that his position was too sensitive: he was not an anonymous student, but a person who had received an elite education, had a close personal friendship with Cop, and was regarded as an important ideological resource for the reformists. Academic circles generally believe that he at least participated in the conception or revision of that speech. Even without conclusive written evidence, it was already enough at that time. France chose to suppress the reform, and Calvin was forced into becoming a theologian.

2) If both the church and the state declare you a heretic, by what do you prove you are not?

Calvin was born in the small northern French city of Noyon, a typical Catholic social environment. His family was not poor; his father held a post in the local church system and was familiar with the operation of the church-administration system. This point is very critical: the church Calvin saw from childhood was not a mysterious community of faith, but a highly institutionalized organization closely related to power and promotion. His father did not intend for him to be a theologian, but hoped he would take a steady, respectable, upward-moving route—through education, entering the church or legal system to become an elite within the establishment. Therefore, Calvin's early educational path was extremely "standard." He first received a humanist education in Paris, systematically studying Latin, rhetoric, and classical literature, and subsequently turned to law, heading to Orléans, Bourges, and other places to study Roman law. He received the strictest legal training in Europe at that time: close reading of texts, logical deduction, sources of authority, and institutional legitimacy. This training shaped his lifelong way of thinking—calm, structured, and highly sensitive to ambiguity and the abuse of authority. Up to this stage, Calvin's life direction was still that of a legal professional or an intellectual bureaucrat within the system, rather than a religious reformer.

The true turning point occurred in France in the early 1530s. Reformation ideas began to spread quietly in French intellectual circles, but French royal power was highly bundled with the Catholic Church and maintained zero tolerance toward any reformist tendencies. In 1533, the new Rector of the Sorbonne Divinity School of the University of Paris, Nicolas Cop, in his inaugural speech, publicly emphasized "Justification by Faith," "internal faith being higher than external institutions," and weakened the status of the church as an intermediary for salvation. This speech was not radical in theology, but extremely dangerous in politics. It meant: reformist ideas had already entered the interior of France's core academic authority. Calvin was closely related to Cop, and academic circles generally believe he at least participated in the ideological conception of this speech. In the perspective of the Sorbonne Divinity School, this was enough. The Sorbonne was not a place for discussing theological differences, but an institution for adjudicating orthodoxy and heresy. After the speech event, the Sorbonne quickly initiated investigation procedures, royal power intervened, and reformist scholars were systematically marked, screened, and purged. Cop was forced to flee Paris overnight, while Calvin immediately realized that it was no longer possible for him to remain within the French establishment.

It needs to be emphasized: Calvin was not formally tried and publicly convicted before leaving France. He chose exile voluntarily before the purge fully unfolded. In 16th-century France, once an accusation of heresy entered judicial procedures, the result was often imprisonment, confiscation of property, or even the death penalty. For a young legal professional, staying in the country meant the simultaneous end of professional life and actual life. It was precisely in this state of being expelled by the system that Calvin began "being forced to do theology." He needed to answer an imminent question for himself, and also for French Protestants: If both the church and the state declare you a heretic, by what do you prove you are not? This was not a spiritual problem, but a question of legitimacy. In 1536, he completed the first edition of the Institutes of the Christian Religion during his exile. This book was not written for ordinary believers, but was a highly rational, systematic text of faith defense, which could almost be seen as a "Protestant Constitution." He used a legal person's way to establish a logical structure, source of authority, and social feasibility for the Protestant faith.

The reason Calvinism could become the ideological floor of the Puritans was not because it comforted people, but precisely the opposite—because it was extremely cruel, yet highly stable. What it provided was not emotional solace, but a set of worldviews that could operate over the long term, forming a closed loop between faith, morality, and social order. And the reason John Calvin could argue highly abstract theological issues such as predestination and God's sovereignty into an executable, governable, and sustainably operating system was that he was doing theology in a legal person's way. He did not "give up law," but upgraded the method of law into a theological method. First, Calvin's starting point of argument was not personal emotional experience or religious passion, but the question of the source of authority. This point was highly related to his legal training. As a person who had received strict legal education, Calvin knew very well that for any system to be established, it must first answer "where is the final power of adjudication." In his theology, there was only one answer to this: the final authority can only belong to God Himself. From this, he established a clear chain of authority—God's will is the ultimate source, the Bible is the authoritative text of God's revelation, and the church and tradition can only assume the roles of interpretation and execution, and must never become new sources of authority. This position appeared repeatedly in the Institutes of the Christian Religion, and its direct result was the fundamental negation of the legitimacy of the Pope and the church as "legislators of faith."

Secondly, on the question of predestination, Calvin's way of argument presented a highly rational distinction of causality. He insisted that whether a person is saved or not can only be explained by God's decision in eternity, and cannot be explained by human behavior, choice, or religious practice. In other words, the cause of salvation can only come from God's will, and human behavior can only be the result of this will in time. This distinction logically and completely cut off the possibility of "behavior leading to salvation," and also made "exchanging" for salvation through church rituals, good works, or moral performance theoretically unsustainable. Thirdly, Calvin's critique of church institutions was not a simple moral condemnation, but a structural analysis of consequences. He repeatedly pointed out that if part of the power of salvation is handed over to human behavior or church operations, then salvation would inevitably be institutionalized, monopolized, and eventually degenerate into a resource that could be managed and distributed. Under this structure, morality would no longer be a result of responding to God, but would degrade into performance and exchange. This is not because individuals are necessarily corrupt, but because the institution itself encourages this result. It is precisely in this sense that Calvin's critique was more like a system risk analysis than an emotional anti-clerical manifesto.

Fourthly, on the question of behavior, Calvin did not deny the importance of moral practice, but thoroughly reshaped the status of behavior. In his theology, good deeds are not the condition for salvation, but the result of the functioning of faith and grace. Behavior cannot prove that a person is definitely chosen, but continuous, stable life order and moral practice are regarded as the external presentation of the true existence of faith. This way of understanding later developed into a highly strict moral supervision system in Puritan society—they focused on behavior not to accumulate merit, but to confirm the logical consistency between faith and life. Finally, the writing style of the Institutes of the Christian Religion itself also reflected Calvin's distinct legal thinking. It was not a collection of sermons, nor was it a spiritual essay, but a systematic theological argument text, starting from basic principles, unfolding arguments layer by layer, responding to opposing opinions, and constantly revising to enhance logical self-consistency. Precisely because of this, this book could be cited and used repeatedly in the long-term disputes of the Reformation, and was even regarded as the "foundational text" of the Reformed tradition. This was not because it was written like legal clauses, but because it possessed a legalistic stability. The point of predestination does not lie in "God knowing everything in advance," but in a more radical assertion: a person's salvation or perdition was already decided by God before time began, and has no causal relationship with human behavior, choice, or even the expression of faith itself. This meant the church could not distribute salvation through rituals, and individuals could not "accumulate qualifications" through good works. Salvation fundamentally broke away from the exchange logic of human society. This theory, at first glance, seems extremely anti-human. Since everything is already decided, why should people still maintain morality, maintain discipline, and live like a "chosen one"? The brilliance of Calvinism lies right here: it did not give up behavior, but thoroughly changed the meaning of behavior. Behavior is no longer a "means to salvation," but an "external sign that salvation already exists." In other words: you do good not to be saved; you do good because you may have already been chosen.

This created a highly tense psychological structure. Believers could never be certain whether they belonged to the "chosen," yet were required to live out the order, self-discipline, and moral intensity that a chosen person should have. The result was not relaxation, but continuous self-examination, self-management, and self-restraint. This is also why Puritan society presented an almost paranoid sense of moral discipline—not because they believed behavior could exchange for salvation, but because they were afraid their state of life would expose signs of "not being chosen." On this point, Calvinism formed a complete rupture with Catholicism. What Catholicism provided was a set of "operable salvation mechanisms": through the church, sacraments, confession, and good works, a person could continuously repair their relationship with God within the institution. Calvinism directly canceled this set of mechanisms. When salvation is no longer operable, the religious authority of the institution fails. This was precisely the theological root of the Puritans' hostility toward church hierarchy. In Calvinist logic, concentrating spiritual authority in a human hierarchical structure was itself a usurpation of divine power. The episcopal system was not just an organizational form issue, but a theological issue: it implied that some people are "closer to God" than others. In Calvinism, the distance between God and man is absolute, and no one can shorten this distance through office, holy orders, or bloodline. From this, Puritans were more inclined toward the presbyterian system, collective governance, and mutual supervision. Puritans naturally disliked the episcopal system and spiritual aristocracy, and were inclined toward more equal, decentralized forms of church governance. Precisely because of this, Puritans were generally English Calvinists in theological position, rather than Lutherans who emphasized personal faith experience more and had less impact on institutions. The reason this theological framework was "extremely capable of action" was precisely because it did not provide certainty. You cannot confirm whether you are saved, and can only "live out a possibility" through continuous discipline, labor, and moral practice. This made the Puritans attach extreme importance to time management, professional responsibility, family order, and public morality, and made them willing to implement the whole set of theological principles into the social structure. Thus, faith was no longer just an internal state, but became an action ethics that comprehensively intervened in life.

In the late 16th century, Puritans initially appeared as a reformist faction within the Church of England; they were not going to "break away from the establishment" from the start. The Puritans of this stage were generally divided into two orientations: one was the moderate faction, choosing to stay within the Church of England, hoping to "purify" the church by reforming doctrine, simplifying rituals, and weakening the power of bishops; the other gradually moved toward a separatist position, believing the Church of England was beyond cure in structure and power and must be completely cut off from. This divergence was not a dispute over theological details, but a fundamental judgment on "whether one could still be loyal to God within the existing establishment." English royal power was highly vigilant toward both types of people, because under the Church of England system, church order itself was a pillar of royal legitimacy, and any challenge to the church structure was equivalent to a challenge to political authority. Entering the early 17th century, during the reigns of Elizabeth I and James I, this tension quickly escalated into systematic suppression. The content of Puritan preaching was censored, non-conformist gatherings were banned, and ministers who refused to follow official rituals were punished. In this environment, some Puritans gradually gave up the possibility of reforming the church in England and instead chose to leave Europe. The Puritans who took the "Mayflower" to North America in 1620 were precisely one of the most symbolic branches, but it must be emphasized that they represented the Separatist Puritans, rather than the Puritans as a whole.

In North America, New England was not the end point of the Puritans' passive asylum, but the testing ground where they actively implemented their social ideals. Centered on the Massachusetts Bay Colony, Puritans attempted to establish a "Covenant Society" based on religious covenants in the New World. In this vision, the church was the core structure of society, religious norms directly constituted the foundation of law and public morality, and individual behavior was strictly incorporated into the moral supervision of the community. This set of systems was highly self-consistent, yet also highly exclusive. Puritans lacked tolerance toward heresy and dissent, including toward other Protestant sects. They did indeed flee religious persecution, but at the same time, they replicated and created new religious suppression in North America; this point cannot be romanticized. As time passed, after entering the second and third generations, the religious tension of Puritan society began to decline. The originally tight theological passion gradually loosened, and Puritanism began to undergo a secularized transformation. What was finally left was no longer a complete set of rigorous theological systems, but an ethical structure stripped of its religious shell: a lifestyle emphasizing diligence, self-discipline, and temperance, emphasizing contract spirit and public responsibility, and emphasizing that community order is higher than individual desire. These secularized Puritan ethics profoundly shaped the political culture of New England, influenced early American republican thought, and provided a strong moral background for what was later called "American Exceptionalism."

3) Institutes of the Christian Religion

I looked for this book Institutes of the Christian Religion and found it is not one book, but three volumes. The first volume discusses the knowledge of God, acknowledging God as the creator, preserver, and governor of the universe and all things within the universe, which is the major premise of all arguments. Here it does not discuss whether God exists, but based on the premise that God is the creator, preserver, and governor of all things in the universe, how we should understand man and God, as well as the roles of the church and the Pope therein. The first volume indicates the nature and purpose of the knowledge of the Creator; this knowledge is not learned in school, but is innate. However, because the fall of mankind was too severe, due to ignorance on one hand and wickedness on the other, this knowledge was corrupted and almost destroyed, so it can neither make man give glory to God, nor make man obtain happiness for himself. Although this internal knowledge can be helped by all created things around us that reflect God's perfection like a mirror, man does not benefit from it. I agree with this sentence; I often feel that the "divinity" of all things in the world existed at the very beginning of all things; they are with our breathing, behavior, and self-consciousness; even from the perspective of physics, the existence of this world is a very low-probability existence.

We can say there is a deviation, not because we are special that we exist, but because we exist, we have the ability to observe and reflect, and can ask this question, namely: "Why do we exist?" the question. The premise of asking the question is because we exist. And we are surrounded by this "divinity"; all things in the world are the answers to all our questions. I often say, "The answer is within me." Because I truly believe that for all the questions I want to ask, the answers are already in my heart; I just need to not overthink, and the answer will naturally surface. Our problem is not that there are no answers, but that there are too many answers, leading people to not know what is important and what is unimportant. In order to give people a hint, God bestowed his written word to those he was willing to make know him; therefore we must pay attention to the Bible. God revealed himself in the Bible; he is not only the Father, but the creator of heaven and earth who is the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as one. Because of our fall, neither the knowledge inherent in our nature nor that extremely beautiful "mirror" manifested in the world can make us learn to give glory to him. Therefore, the author discusses God's revelation in the Bible, as well as issues such as the Trinity. To prevent man from blaming God for his own voluntary and blind faults, the author explains the situation of man at the beginning of creation, and discusses that man was created in the image of God, free will, and the original integrity of nature. After the discussion of creation is completed, the author then discusses the preservation and governance of all things, and ends the first volume with a discussion of the doctrine of divine providence.

The first chapter mainly discusses how we know God and know ourselves. The beginning of the chapter discusses what true wisdom actually is. True wisdom is mainly composed of two parts: the knowledge of God, and the knowledge of ourselves. However, since these two kinds of knowledge are extremely closely related to each other, it is difficult to determine which comes first and which comes later. First, because once a person examines themselves, they inevitably immediately think of God—the God in whom man "lives, moves, and has being" (Acts 17:28); the talent we possess is by no means out of ourselves, and even our existence itself completely depends on God. These graces bestowed upon us, constantly dripping from heaven, are like many rivers merging, guiding us back to the source. I don't know how other people feel about this passage, but I often feel the difference between cleverness, wisdom, and true great wisdom. Cleverness seems related to learning and understanding ability, but wisdom seems innate, and great wisdom in my view is using wisdom for introspection, using time as a measure, and extending the understanding of oneself to the understanding of others and all things in the world. This may be the logic of Buddhism; I am not very clear because I have not understood Buddhism carefully. But I do have a certain interest in Tibetan Buddhism; I might have to understand it later; there are too many themes I want to study now.

Secondly, our own poverty more clearly reveals the infinite richness of God. Especially due to the betrayal of the ancestors, we fell into a miserable corruption, which forces us to look up to heaven; this is not only like needing food and drink during a famine, but more so makes us learn humility due to fear. Because man is dominated by all kinds of sorrow and is deprived of the original divine decoration, the deformity and incompleteness are exposed nakedly; everyone, by deeply feeling their own misfortune, will more or less obtain some knowledge of God. This is typical biblical storytelling; I understand, and also often feel my own sinfulness, making me want to run to the nearest church to confess and cry to the priest. But finding someone to confess to should not be my reason for believing in Christianity. Recently I watched the latest episode of Knives Out, Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery. I have not studied the bible; this was the first time I heard the story of the Road to Damascus. For those who don't know, Road to Damascus refers to the key event in the New Testament Acts of Saul's (later Paul's) repentance and conversion.

Originally as a Pharisee, Saul was heading to Damascus to persecute Christians; on the way, he was suddenly knocked down by a strong light from heaven, was blind for three days, and heard a voice calling his name, questioning him why he persecuted Jesus; in Damascus, he was healed and baptized by Ananias, transforming from a persecutor to a preacher, with his identity and mission completely overturned. The importance of this event does not lie in "seeing a vision," but lies in a kind of cognitive collapse of being called out and interrupted—a person who thought they were standing on the side of truth suddenly finds they have mistaken God for a tool, thereby experiencing an irreversible world-view reorganization. When I was watching this movie, I actually suddenly understood the meaning of the sentence "God is within me" which I could not understand before. I can feel it; I can feel this "divinity" is higher than me; I am not sure if I trust the story of Jesus, but whether the story is real is not important. When we feel our own ignorance, emptiness, poverty, weakness, wickedness, and corruption, we will perceive and admit: only in the Lord can we find true wisdom, solid strength, complete kindness, and flawless justice. Precisely because of this, due to our own incompleteness, we begin to think of God's perfection. Only when we begin to no longer be satisfied with ourselves can we sincerely look up to God. For who is not willing to rely on themselves? When a person has not yet recognized their true situation, but instead is satisfied with their own endowments, forgetting or being blankly unaware of their own misfortune, who would not be smug and self-satisfied? Therefore, self-knowledge not only inspires one to seek God but also helps one discover God.

The second chapter discusses the nature of knowing God, as well as the purpose of knowing God. Calvin believes that truly knowing God is not just intellectually admitting there is a god, but contains awe and love, namely that knowing God means perceiving his greatness and thereby producing awe toward him; at the same time perceiving his loving-kindness and thereby producing affection toward him. Calvin criticizes those who only discuss what God's "essence" is but do not care about what God means "to us." He believes knowing God must be practical, namely knowing how his attributes affect our lives. Calvin defines "piety" as: "Piety is the love and reverence for God produced by the knowledge of God's grace, and is combined with awe of him." He emphasizes that unless a person first feels that God is the source of all good, and thereby produces gratitude and obedience, they will not sincerely worship God. If a person truly knows God as the Creator, they will exhibit the following traits: voluntary obedience and complete trust. Here I want to cite the character in Knives Out 3 again; when the priest Josh was accused of being the murderer, he also wanted to escape the blame, but he eventually was unwilling to put his energy on solving the murder case. Because every minute used to suspect people's extreme evil, he was straying away from what he truly should be doing. When he was tracking the case, he suddenly heard the clerk on the other end of the phone pleading with him as a priest to pray for his seriously ill mother while searching for evidence; at that moment he understood, his duty was not to track down the true culprit, but to continue to assist lost people in finding their direction. When encountering hardships, he believes in God's protection; when obtaining success, he gives glory to God.

Chapter three, "The Knowledge of God Has Been Naturally Implanted in the Minds of Men." Calvin's core logic in this chapter is: no one can shirk by saying they do not know God. Calvin proposes that God has implanted a certain degree of "Sense of Divinity" (Sensus Divinitatis) in everyone's heart. This knowledge is not obtained through postnatal learning, but is innate; this point basically matches what I said before. No matter how backward or savage a civilization is, even those whose living habits are close to beasts, deep in their hearts there is still a "sense of religion." This "divinity" is indelible; although a person can try their best to suppress this consciousness or even verbally deny God, when crisis or death approaches, this sense of dread toward God will emerge again. Religion is not a human invention; Calvin refuted this view of the time, namely that "religion is a hoax invented by a few clever people to rule the people." He believes that if there were not originally the perception of God as a seed in the human heart, those politicians or cunning people, no matter how they indoctrinate, could not establish religion in the human heart. Calvin points out that man would rather worship wood or stone than have no god at all. This behavior of "rather worshiping the wrong one than not worshiping" conversely proves there is a deep-rooted, ineradicable longing for God in the human heart. This internal knowledge will also produce a basic sense of moral responsibility in the human heart, letting one know they should be responsible to God. Conclusion of this chapter: man has no excuse. Calvin concludes that since God has already left a witness in everyone's heart, then: 1. Atheism is false; those who claim they do not believe in god are actually conducting a fierce struggle deep in their hearts, trying to escape God; 2. Judgment is just; finally before God, no one can use "not knowing there is a god" as an excuse to defend their crimes.