Unapologetica

The Future of Scripturalism: Epistemic Apologetics

2012-02-06T23:51:00.027-05:00

I've written several posts on this blog about why I think omniscience is a precondition for knowledge (read and follow the links provided in this link). I haven't explained the full import I think this argument has, however, and a part of the reason is that I'm still turning it over in my mind. I think the last few paragraphs of Steve Matthew's latest review of Clark's A Christian View of Men and Things (link) provides a fine occasion for this discussion and some other points I've been meaning to address:

Clark tells us that if we can logically demonstrate that a system of thought has at least one contradiction in it, that system must be false. This is an application of what is called the coherence theory of truth, which holds that truth must be non-contradictory. Writing in his essay Presuppositional Apologetics: Stated and Defended, Gary Crampton says the following about the coherence theory of truth,

“Logic in the Clarkian view functions a a negative test for truth. It is an apologetic tool to show how a contradiction in any system (which all non-believing systems contain) disproves it as a valid system. Logical coherence is a very valid way to proof-text a system for its validity or non-validity. The fact that the Bible is logically consistent does not prove it to be true, but it certainly shows the non-believer that the Christian worldview is based on a system of truth that is logically coherent.”

In other words, we do not prove the Bible is true by testing it for logical coherence – we know it is logically coherent because God tells us in Scripture that this is the case, God is not the author of confusion (1Cor.14:33) – but we can disprove other systems of thought by exposing their internal contradictions. The Bible tells us the wisdom of this world is foolishness (1Cor.3:19). It is the job of the Christian apologist to make this foolishness evident.

Clark asserted inconsistency invalidates worldviews; on the other hand, Clark did not assert consistency alone validates a worldview. For example, compare what Gordon Lewis stated about Clark's position in Testing Christianity's Truth Claims (pg. 119-122) with Clark's response in Clark and His Critics (pgs. 399-403). I may reproduce the exchange in a different post, but one critical point is that Clark denied Lewis' claim that he, Clark, had ever asserted or implied that consistency is the sole test of truth-claims. Having read much of what Clark has written, I came to the same conclusion (e.g. points 3-7 here) before even knowing about this rebuttal of Clark.

To understand what Clark is doing, consider the following observation of a prominent, contemporary epistemologist (link):

The classic test for whether a condition for knowledge, say the truth of what is believed, is analytically necessary is whether or not it is absolutely inconceivable that someone has knowledge while failing to satisfy the condition. The test for whether a conjunction of conditions X is jointly sufficient for knowledge is whether we can conceive of X obtaining without knowledge.

Clark's use of logic as an elenctic apologetic implies Clark regards logic as a precondition for knowledge. Since he's right, by applying the test of logic to worldviews, those which are illogical can be discarded, as the do not satisfy a precondition for knowledge. However, this is not to suggest that consistency alone suffices as a precondition for knowledge. Clark noted in his response to Lewis that there are several competing theories of mathematics which are each consistent, or at least seemingly so. But what do geometrical systems have to do with epistemological systems? When Gilbert Weaver mistook Clark for thinking Bertrand Russell was consistent when, in fact, Clark's point was that Russell was only relatively consistent, in his reply to Weaver, Clark even admitted that even if he was unable to discover inconsistency in Russell, his limitations would not imply Russell was consistent (Clark and His Critics, pgs. 283, 291). Clark was clearly not a rationalist. However, he was rational insofar as he recognized logic to be a necessary precondition for knowledge. As Clark stated in this same reply to Weaver (pg. 290), he regarded Scripture as the sufficient precondition for knowledge of truth:

...I "supplement" consistency by an appeal to the Scripture for the determination of particular truths...

He states the same ideas elsewhere. For instance:

The initial implausibility of a thorough-going, all comprehensive system of axioms and theorems does not lie in the fact that it is a hitherto unrealized ideal. The implausibility rests on the contrast between the common opinion that the secular sciences are true, at least largely true, and the implication of Christian axiomatization that they are all completely false… the present point is simply that God is the origin of all truth. Then all truth is one and self-consistent. But if so, non-Christian systems of thought must be false... (Karl Barth's Theological Method, pg. 97)

Here, of course, Clark has in mind the Christian God who has revealed Himself by His word and thereby given His people access to the source of knowledge. Or, as I wrote in a recent post: "God can univocally communicate His eternal thoughts to man by divine illumination pertaining to what He has revealed in His word."

But in addition to conveying the true worldview, Clark also recognized the place of refutation in apologetics. It is conducive to an unbeliever's understanding to refute his worldview by employing a necessary precondition of knowledge, like logic, rather than simply quoting Scripture. The more cognitive dissonance one can create in an unbeliever's mind, the better.

This brings me to the point of my post: the more necessary preconditions of knowledge one can construct and utilize, the more quickly and efficiently a Scripturalist can create this cognitive dissonance by showing that an unbeliever's worldview fails to satisfy these preconditions. I think significant progress can be made in Scripturalist apologetics along these lines.

However, cannot all propositions in Scripture be considered necessary preconditions for knowledge if the theory of internal relations (i.e. all propositions are related) is true? It would seem so. But this is a good thing, I think. For one thing, it's a reason Jews cannot copy Scripturalism. But then, on what basis should a Christian choose from the sufficient precondition of knowledge (Scripture) various necessary conditions for knowledge (e.g. logic a la Clark)?

That all propositions are related doesn't mean all propositions are epistemically equal, so to speak, for some are entailed by, justified by, or deduced from others (etc.). While the claims of consistency in Scripture may not actually be falsifiable, they are testable by means of, say, logic. This is one of the more fundamental propositions by which we can test for knowledge. Rather than classical apologetics, which attempts to reason from common assumptions to God, then, this could be called epistemic apologetics, which aims to show what are the fundamental propositions without which knowledge is impossible.

Given that Scripture is the sufficient precondition for knowledge, Christians are already ahead of the curve in a search for these necessary preconditions for knowledge, for the sufficient precondition itself will already entail them. In addition to logic and divine omniscience - including what can be further inferred from those preconditions - I think language as a necessary precondition for knowledge is an avenue Scripturalists have yet to fully appreciate, especially in a practical sense. It is the responsibility of the Christian apologist to study Scripture to find them and learn how to appropriate them. Even one precondition is enough, as in Clark's case. At any rate, they can be distinguished but never ultimately abstracted from the harmonious system in which they are found (Scripturalism):

Axiomatization is simply the perfecting and exhibiting of the logical consistency of a system of thought. In view of Calvinism’s well known reputation for consistency, axiomatization and Calvinism should get along well together. The many theorems derived from the smallest possible number of axioms… And since the axioms, if there be several, depend for their meaning on their interrelationships, axiomatization would rule out the possibility of even a single axiom in common. (Karl Barth's Theological Method, pg. 95)

Infinite Worldviews

2012-01-15T22:11:00.012-05:00

According to John Robbins:

In the laboratory the scientist seeks to determine the boiling point of water. Since water hardly ever boils at the same temperature, the scientist conducts a number of tests and the slightly differing results are noted. He then must average them. But what kind of average does he use: mean, mode, or median? He must choose; and whatever kind of average he selects, it is his own choice; it is not dictated by the data. Then too, the average he chooses is just that, that is, it is an average, not the actual datum yielded by the experiment. Once the test results have been averaged, the scientist will calculate the variable error in his readings. He will likely plot the data points or areas on a graph. Then he will draw a curve through the resultant data points or areas on the graph. But how many curves, each one of which describes a different equation, are possible? An infinite number of curves is possible. But the scientist draws only one. What is the probability of the scientist choosing the correct curve out of an infinite number of possibilities? The chance is one over infinity, or zero. Therefore, all scientific laws are false. They cannot possibly be true. As cited above, the statement of Karl Popper is correct: "It can even be shown that all theories, including the best, have the same probability, namely zero."

Many popular Scripturalists have taken this quote and run with it (link, link). For the sake of this post, I am not interested in the argument so far as it criticizes empiricism. My interest lies in the idea that if one must choose from an infinite number of alternatives, his chance of correctly choosing is zero. Let's apply this to the following statement made by Vincent Cheung, a Scripturalist who agrees with the above reasoning:

For every truth, there is logically an infinite number of possible falsehoods related to it or deviations from it. For example, if the truth is 1 + 1 = 2, then, we can deviate from this by saying 1 + 1 = 3, or 4, or 5, or 6, and so on to infinity. This is the case regarding any truth. (link)

If there are an infinite number of possible falsehoods, then consider this analogy:

In the search for truth, an epistemologist will encounter an infinite number of possible worldviews. But the epistemologist chooses only one. What is the probability of the epistemologist choosing the correct worldview out of an infinite number of possibilities? The chance is one over infinity, or zero. Therefore, all epistemological choices of worldviews are false. They cannot possibly be true. As cited above, the statement of Karl Popper is correct: "It can even be shown that all theories, including the best, have the same probability, namely zero."

A few implications from this line of reasoning:

I don't think it's the case that just because one chooses one alternative out of an infinitude of alternatives, his choice is necessarily false. I disagree with Robbins argument, or at least the reasoning he used to reach it. Perhaps a scientific law cannot be know to be true, but certainly not all scientific laws would be false simply due to the presence of an infinite number of false scientific laws.

Furthermore, in the context of epistemology, if it can be shown that the unique characteristics of a given worldview are necessary preconditions for knowledge, then that worldview would be both true and knowable. And assuming a certain view of mathematics, one can use transcendental arguments to refute an unlimited number worldviews, as I point out here.

Speaking of mathematics, the more I study divine omniscience and epistemology, the more striking its importance appears. I'll admit that it's hard for me to wrap my head around it.

Clark would probably avoid this whole discussion by arguing that there are only a finite number of possible worldviews, and this of course has significant implications regarding mathematics. But it doesn't seem to me that Clark had a very good grasp of mathematics. This is just a guess based on an anecdote in Gordon Clark: Personal Recollections, but I think he probably rejected the concept of infinite knowledge soon after he was shown that not all infinite sets are countable.

At any rate, I suspect that a form of mathematical induction - which is actually deductive (link) - could possibly be used to refute what might be called trivially similar and impragmatic worldviews, especially ones centered on [a] number(s).

Knowing Truth: Related or Isolated?

2012-01-03T02:05:00.015-05:00

In my last post, I mentioned the doctrine of internal relations as implying the necessity of an eternally omniscient being. I've written about this necessity before (most comprehensively, here). The doctrine of internal relations is the theory that everything is related to everything else. "Everything," however, may be unnecessarily ambiguous, so let's qualify it to specifically apply to propositions. Are all propositions related, or can a proposition be known to be true in isolation from all others?

By definition, one who isn't omniscient doesn't know at least one proposition: A.

For such a person to claim to know proposition B is false if B is predicated on A.

For him to know that B is not predicated on A presupposes a method C according to which he is able to determine such.

The question, then, becomes: from whom did he learn C, or did he himself claim to discover it?

If one learned C from another, from whom did that person learn C, did that person claim to discover C, or is that person omniscient?

If that person in turn learned C, we merely repeat the same question such that it is evident one has discovered C himself or has ultimately learned C either from one who is not omniscient and claimed to have discovered it or from one who claims to be omniscient.

Here is the kicker: if either of the former is the case - if a non-omniscient source claimed to discover C - by what method D did said source discover that C is not itself predicated on A? By what method E did said source discover that D is not itself predicated on A? Etc.

It is apparent that one who is not omniscient cannot both claim to know a proposition in isolation and avoid begging the question. Note that this is not intended to question the right of a person to appeal to an epistemic source. It is rather a question of determining preconditions for [the means of] knowledge and whether or not a particular epistemic source satisfies them. This post, like the one cited at the top, is intended to establish the unviability of an epistemology which has no recourse to an omniscient source of knowledge. The point is that just as no epistemology can stand without logic, no epistemology can stand without an omniscient being - more precisely, an eternally omniscient being, if the argument in my other post is sound. I'll leave that aside for now, however, as I want to emphasize that I believe this is a strong argument against secular rationalists who believe logic alone is a sufficient condition for knowledge. It's the best one I know, anyway, in terms of its breadth of application.

Clark, Van Til, and the Knowledge(s) of Man and God

2012-01-01T03:02:00.016-05:00

I have yet to see a more fascinatingly concise, if perhaps equivocal, assessment the Clark-Van Til controversy on the issue of how the knowledges of man and God relate than that provided by Robert Rudolph in his contribution to Gordon Clark: Personal Recollections (pgs. 103-104):

Gordon was absolutely insistent that we did know some of the same things that God knew. If not, he insisted, it would be impossible for us to know any truth at all! That 2 plus 2 equals 4 is true, he felt. Thus he insisted that in and of itself it is true as a statement without the necessity of examining another proposition. He carefully insisted upon a propositional concept of truth while Van Til insisted upon the fact that to have truth in one's mind that mind must be built upon other propositions. The truthfulness or falsity demanded that the individual proposition be held in the midst of certain other basic propositions that must be consciously present in that mind in order to correctly know truth. Now, of course, God knows every proposition in the context of all other propositions for Van Til, and, therefore, the limited human mind never knows it the way God does. Van Til had an expression, of repeated: "true as far as it goes," meaning, of course, that for that mind which holds all propositions in a system, the more complete the system, the more full the truth. With growth in the knowledge of basic propositions, the further than mind had the truth. Van Til's concept is that for relative human beings, they can have all needful truth but never perceive it as God does with his infinite knowledge of everything that affects any proposition. He charged Clark, therefore, with denying the incomprehensibility of God and Clark charged him with agnosticism since he that that for him it was impossible to know anything as God did. Clark wanted an absolute even if it were only in the single proposition.

This helped put into order some ideas that I've been mulling for a while:

Clark's argument is simple and effective: God is omniscient. What we know, then, must be what God knows. Self-defeating skepticism – to say nothing of questions such as what would constitute the real basis of union with Christ – is the alternative. Any proposition, which Clark defined as "the meaning of a declarative sentence" (Logic, pg. 28), is either true or false. Our mode and extent of knowledge may differ, but what man knows in comparison to what God knows is a separate issue from how [much] man knows in comparison to how [much] God knows.

That said, Rudolf's statement that "God knows every proposition in the context of all other propositions for Van Til" is extremely interesting, especially if taken in conjunction with Van Til’s denial that “[God’s] knowledge and our knowledge coincide at any single point” (cf. pg. 5, col. 3 here).

It is ironic that Van Til charged Clark with rationalism when Van Til held to the logical conclusion of Hegelianism. The doctrine of internal relations essentially states that “everything has some relation, however distant, to everything else” (link). If this is doctrine is true, as I think it must be – I may write a post on this later – then the question is begged as to how one can learn anything. I have argued (here, for example) that internal relations means that the source of knowledge must be an eternally omniscient being.

However, I do not think, as it seems Van Til did, that a precondition for the content of man’s knowledge to be univocal with that of God’s is that he too must know all relations. The definition of a subject may be the sum of that which may be predicated of it – and thus all subjects will relate to each other, positively or negatively – but contrary to Hegel, propositions rather than subjects are truth-bearers. So that men cannot attain comprehensive knowledge of a subject – such would require knowledge of the way in which the subject relates to all other subjects which, in turn, would require omniscience – does not mean men cannot know anything at all about a subject.

The problem may be that Van Til conflated knowing what a proposition means with how a proposition is known. In Rudolf’s analysis, for man not to know in “the way God does” or “as God did” is a bit ambiguous. It is true man doesn’t know “the way God does” insofar as man’s knowledge is discursive rather than intuitive. But does Rudolf additionally mean that Van Til didn’t think men “know some of the same things that God knew,” obviously a reference to the univocal meaning of a proposition?

If so – if Van Til did not think that man’s knowledge was univocal with God’s knowledge (as The Text of a Complaint implies) because men learn truth, and only portions at that – then it should be made clear that “analogical” knowledge and its devastating consequences can be avoided by noting that God can univocally communicate His eternal thoughts to man by divine illumination pertaining to what He has revealed in His word. This is the method by which a man comes to univocally know both the truth of propositions and, hence, the infima species of the subjects of propositions by which one subject is individuated from another. The issue then simply becomes a comparison of the extent of our knowledge [about a subject] to God's, and no Clarkian thinks he is omniscient. We are sanctified by God's word - the word of truth, not a mere analogy thereof.

Still, knowledge of certain propositions requires a context, as Clark himself notes in Today’s Evangelism: Counterfeit or Genuine? For example:

Page 66: There are many who in that day will say to Christ, Lord, Lord. And he will profess, I never knew you. Thus, clearly, a verbal profession of Lord is not saving faith. One must understand what the term Lord means. Further, as has already been pointed out, the name Jesus must be correctly apprehended. Confess that the Jesus of Strauss, Renan, or Schweitzer is Lord, and you will go to hell.

Page 85: Even the intellectual work of coming to understand a sentence requires assent and volition. It does not require assent to the truth of the sentence in question; but it requires a voluntary act of attention, and assent to the truth of other propositions by which its meaning is uncovered.

So I think Rudolf sells Clark short here. It is true that assent to the isolated statement “Jesus is Lord” does not necessarily mean that one knows its biblical meaning; he may be assenting to a falsehood. But the point is that one doesn't need to know the biblical meaning “in the context of all other propositions” in order to know what God knows. It is sufficient to know the infima species of the biblical subject “Jesus,” i.e. a minimal, finite number of propositions which would individuate “Jesus of Nazareth” from “Jesus of Strauss” et. al. Omniscience is not required. In fact, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that for a Scripturalist, the “context of propositions” in which the biblical meaning of the statement “Jesus is Lord” is properly understood is found in the very context of Scripture.

TAG revisited

2011-12-25T02:44:00.003-05:00

A recent paper by James Anderson and Greg Welty (link) on “An Argument for God from Logic” has been made available. It does not purport to be “incontrovertible proof” for the existence of God, though it claims to be deductively valid and superficially sound.

Some of the points made in the article which whose importance could likely be overlooked are very good: “language-independence,” for instance, is something I’ve been meaning to talk about for a while, and I hope to do so in the near future. At the same time, there were a few things I think, highly qualified as I am to make such recommendations, require clarification:

1. The title of the article is a bit of a misnomer. What I mean is that certain polytheists or non-Christian monotheists could use the arguments: "Strictly speaking, the argument shows that there must be at least one necessarily existent person; it doesn't show that there must be one and only one necessarily existent person."

The purpose of the authors’ transcendental argument is certainly more conservative than Van Til’s attempt to defend Christianity in particular (cf. here), and I would say that even if such a restriction in purpose is not due to recognition of epistemic limitations, it is at least a step in the right direction. I abandoned attempting to defend Christianity with a TAG when I realized that the step from theism – even theism with restrictions to rule out several options – to Christianity is inferential, but I’m more than willing to learn an apagogic argument.

2. The authors referred to a possible world as "a way the world could have been." But if, as some like me tend to think, this is the only possible world God could have effected due to who He is, then the authors' assumption of multiple possible worlds throughout their article is problematic. Perhaps this objection can be largely avoided if they were to switch "imaginable worlds" for "possible worlds" at the appropriate places. I would say an "imaginable world" is just a [fictional] world proceeding from our imaginations. Whatever we imagine, the laws of logic must apply to them, for our imaginings are a subset of our thoughts bound by the laws of logic.

3. They state that "There is no possible world in which... the Law of Non-Contradiction is not true." However, if the law of non-contradiction is mental, this statement begs the question: has there existed or could there have existed a world without minds and, if so, would not such a world demonstrate that the laws of logic are ontologically unnecessary?

Let me unpack this a bit: the authors argue that minds are a metaphysical precondition for the laws of logic. I agree. If the laws of logic exist necessarily, then “God” (i.e. and eternal mind) exists necessarily. I agree with that too. But I had trouble understanding how the authors claimed to know the laws of logic exist necessarily. Such only seems to be the case if minds exist necessarily; but from what I could gather, that is the purported conclusion of their argument – rather than their premise for it – according to which “God’s” existence is thereby posited. This would be circular reasoning, i.e. not a deductively valid argument.

I discussed this with a friend, and he replied that the laws of logic must be invariant in order to avoid a self-defeating position. But I didn’t find a reason given in the paper as why the existence of the laws of logic needs to be necessary in order for their invariance to hold when a contingent mind thinks. It is true that when minds think, they must think according to the laws of logic. But if all minds cease to think (exist), the metaphysical precondition is not met and the laws of logic cease to exist. This doesn’t mean that if such were to occur, true would become false, contradictories could be true, etc.; it would mean that since there would be no minds, there wouldn’t be thinking – there wouldn’t be laws of logic.

So while it’s true that “we cannot imagine the possibility of the Law of Non-Contradiction being false,” if the “we” isn’t a metaphysical necessity, neither are the laws of logic. No one would be thinking propositionally. No one would be thinking the laws of logic. Perhaps a good summary of this line of reasoning would be that a “necessary truth” is a truth without which no one could think, but it’s not a truth which must be thought. If this is possible, then this article’s argument for God’s existence fails.

I think, therefore, the argument of this paper requires a classical apologetic explaining the [pre]conditions under which a world can obtain to rule out these types of counterarguments.

Salvation and Synergism

2011-12-22T14:54:00.005-05:00

Calvinists have a tendency to emphasize the divine activity in man's salvation. "Synergism" is viewed as a dirty word to be associated with free-willers who don't understand that if grace isn't sufficient to cause belief &c., salvation cannot validly be argued to have occurred by means of grace alone.

But etymologically, synergism only refers to activity in which multiple persons are involved. Contrarily, monergism refers to activity in which only one person is involved.

While the meaning of a word can evolve over time, a group shouldn't abandon a term just because of some misconceptions about it. If that were the case, perhaps Calvinists should abandon the word "predestination" because some people conflate it with "fatalism."

Rather, the burden lies on Calvinists to clarify what they mean. So the question is: strictly speaking, is the whole process of salvation synergistic or monergistic?

Obviously, there are aspects of the process of salvation which are monergistic. God alone is active in the regeneration of man. Then again, man actively assents to truth. His faith and knowledge of God's word is not passive. Since faith is a condition for justification, salvation entails synergism (although man's activity always finds its root in God's determinative grace).

A Terminus to God's Determination?

2011-12-21T22:23:00.005-05:00

The following conversation is between myself and an Arminian who is a member of the Society of Evangelical Arminians on the coherency of divine determination (his comments are in block quotes):

If an actual infinite set does not actually exist (which can be logically shown), how can it be that God has actually determined an infinite amount of actions stretching into an eternity of time into the future where the actions of sinners in Hell and the redeemed in the New Heaven and Earth are concerned?

I am confused. If you don't think God can determine an "infinite set" of actions, how can you defend God's knowledge of an "infinite set" of actions? Have you thought about what implications this argument has for your view of God's omniscience?

The proper definition of omniscience is "to know only and all truths". What is obvious from this standard and universally accepted definition is that there are a limited amount of truths in the universe, and if God knows all that can be known, obviously he knows a FINITE set of things, not infinite strictly taken. And yet he is omniscient still.

And yet to predetermine an actual set of things is to say that there exists a group of actions which goes on for eternity which are all meticulously laid out NOW--and yet God is laying out an actual infinite set of actions, which is impossible.

And given YOUR view, Ryan, that God's knowledge of the future is PREDICATED by his predetermination of all things (i.e. he knows all things BECAUSE he has predetermined all things), then it is you--not me--who must first answer the question as to how it is not logically incoherent to believe that God has predetermined an actual infinite set of things when an actual infinite is logically impossible.

If there are only a "finite set of [truths]," there can only be a finite set of states of affairs to which those truths correspond. If you can hold this to be true, I don't see why you won't allow us the same courtesy.

To give a more direct response, however, it seems to me your argument presupposes that we hold to a perpetually dynamic rather than an eventually static view of the way in which we will worship God &c. upon the consummation of new creation. Why do you think that this is the case? Furthermore, if you this that this is the case, how can you hold to a finite set of states of affairs?

I will add that some Calvinists would agree with you - perhaps myself included, as I have not committed myself either way - on the finite of God's knowledge:

//...if the theorems [of mathematics] are infinite in number, neither God nor man could know them all, for with respect to infinity there is no "all" to be known.//

- Gordon Clark, The Incarnation pg. 62

Against both Clark and yourself one might cite, say, the Cantor set as an uncountable set which, since it is bounded, provides an example according to which we could argue for the possibility of an infinitely knowledgeable God.

In any case, I think these arguments are pretty complex, and whichever position is true does not hurt the Calvinist any more than it hurts you.

To summarize the above points, the Calvinist can mirror whatever the Arminian's view is regarding of the scope of God's knowledge and further apply that to God's determination of events.

Fight or Flight

2011-12-05T10:23:00.013-05:00

A friend of mine who is wading into the waters of epistemology asked some atheist called "Jersey Flight" if he had ever interacted with Gordon Clark. It seemed to me the subsequent replies were a little dismissive, so on my friend's behalf I sent a few emails back. You can find these interactions here. To point out a few problems with his latest reply:

1. JF never wrote out a syllogistic argument as I had requested. I suspect the reason he did not is because if he had, I would have done exactly what I told him I would do, i.e. asked him to justify his premises ad infinitum until he admitted the point of presuppositionalism:

The demonstration of a proposition, such as any theorem in geometry, is completed only when it is referred to the axioms. If the axioms in turn required demonstration, the demonstration of the proposition with which we began would remain incomplete.

Gordon Clark, Thales to Dewey pg. 88

2. He also ignored my request that he explain his own worldview. Since he was imputing principles like “inductive science” and “human reason” to my worldview, I assume he is an empiricist or rationalist. I’ve critiqued both on this blog before (example), though since he is unwilling to present his position, I see no reason to believe he knows anything, obviously including that his criticisms of my position are veridical.

3. He further ignored my link I provided in my first reply which addressed his analogy of Scripturalism to Islam (link). This is probably due to the following:

4. He takes these two previous points as sufficient evidence to claim I am a transcendental-rationalist. But if he is so well-up on presuppositionalism, I wonder why he would assume there cannot be necessary but insufficient presuppositions (e.g. logic), necessary insofar as any worldview which does not presuppose them will be self-defeating but insufficient insofar as they are in themselves unable to yield a sound epistemic system? Perhaps he can explain this.

5. On the other hand, it may just be that he misconstrued what I meant by epistemic humility. He viewed it as a cop-out to avoid answering his questions, though since by the time I had written that I had already responded to all his questions, I'm not sure why he took my statement that way. Epistemic humility is just a reference to our limitations to what we can know. For instance, since we're contingent creatures, our knowledge is limited by our source of knowledge. In my case, this refers to divine revelation and that which can be deduced from it. At no point did I claim or imply that Christianity should be exempt from the very epistemological tests which I myself explained in my first reply in response to the "arbitrary axiom" objection.

6. He didn't really seem to understand the difference between an ontological and epistemological presupposition. I honestly don’t understand why this is an issue. The Bible may have been written by the apostles such that their births were an ontologically prior to inscripturation, but the only reason I know about apostleship in the first place is by means of Scripture. So Scripture is epistemically prior to the birth of the apostles. Scripture is a historical document. Things occured prior to inscripturation on which inscripturation depended (ontological preconditions), but the point is these can only be known by Scripture (epistemological precondition).

7. He seems to think Scripture is ink marks on a page. This and his repeated citations of Van Tilian apologists incline me to think he is not very familiar with Clark’s works.

These are the main faults. I could talk about issues of Scriptural perspicuity, authority, &c., but I’ve addressed these points in the few links I provided for him.

UPDATE:

JF has replied, though he's edited out the links I provided in my responses. It's not a long reply. Here's the assertion:

//As is usual, the standard, the common default mode: Christian rationalization, silent justification: "if men understood the position they would accept the position--- therefore, all those who reject the position don't understand the position."//

Are "rationalizations" and "justifications" derogatory terms?

I can only assume he's referencing point 6. But as he clearly stated that the Protestant canon cannot function as an epistemic axiom because it presupposes things like science and reasoning, my statement is accurate: JF doesn't understand my position. This isn't a universal conclusion from a specific example, it's a statement that JF does not, on this issue, get it. The means of knowledge by which one historically comes to believe a proposition and the preconditions for one's source of knowledge (ontological presuppositions) can and must themselves be found in or justified by that which is the sole source of knowledge (epistemic presupposition). The Protestant canon is such a case. This isn't too difficult.

If JF is not willing to answer my questions or internally critique my worldview, there's nothing more I can say.

Tactics

2011-11-25T23:04:00.011-05:00

A friend of mine recently asked me to take a look at Gregory Koukl’s Tactics, an introduction to apologetic methodology from a Christian perspective. He plans to give it to his teenage brother for Christmas. I hadn’t heard of the author or book before, though I could see that both have received favorable reviews from the Christian community (link). After reading the book, I can see why. Mr. Koukl is clearly a bright and experienced philosopher (link).

As this book is designed to be accessible to all laymen, his style of writing is popular rather than scholarly. Furthermore, it isn't a defense of Christianity so much as a beginner's guide on how to think, query, and act to become someone who is confident that what he believes is true. It reminded me of the adage: Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime. So the focus on the fundamentals doesn’t take away from the points he makes; on the contrary, though I understand why he placed limitations on what he covered, I rather wish he had delved deeper into some issues. The prospective buyer should be aware that the book is primarily designed to teach Christians how to do defend the rationality of Christianity rather than to show its necessity. Insofar as it attempts to defend the rationality of Christianity, it purports to engage and refute claims which would undermine this. I believe Mr. Koukl expects his reader to turn elsewhere to look for an extensive explanation of the necessity of Christianity or what one might call "positive" apologetics. Nevertheless, taking all things into consideration I would give the book a 4/5 and say it is worth picking up if you know little about fancy topics like epistemology (the study of knowledge) and want to expand your mind to better equip yourself to defend the faith. Here are some thoughts:

Broad Areas of Agreement

It was very interesting to note with how much Mr. Koukl would agree with a Scripturalist like myself. He emphasized the necessity of knowledge and argumentation over shallowness and comfort. He believes faith and knowledge are “companions” rather than opposites; faith is belief, not ignorance. He even correctly defends the idea that our knowledge is univocal with God’s knowledge because, given that God is omniscient, to affirm otherwise would lead to skepticism.

This is a problem because skepticism is self-defeating. His goal to put a “stone in the shoe” of the unbeliever is meant to illustrate his focus on showing the inconsistency in another’s worldview before attempting to demonstrate the consistency of and evidence for the Christian worldview. Parenthetically, as a Calvinist, he demonstrated an understanding as to how apologetics relates to evangelism: men are responsible for communicating the truth, not soul-winning. God causes growth.

Returning to how he goes about showing a position to be inconsistent, this is to be accomplished primarily by means of reducing it to absurdity via Socratic questioning. This is excellent advice and has worked well for me, as it neatly leads a person to the logical conclusion of a statement without it being possible for him to argue that his words were being taken out of context. At worst, one is just asking questions for the sake of learning about someone else's beliefs.

He intersperses a few other examples of self-defeating positions throughout the book: logical positivism, religious pluralism, Hinduism, secular moral absolutism &c. These are the sorts of examples those who are just starting to learn about apologetics will find most interesting.

All of this points to a fundamental divide between Christian and non-Christian worldviews which needs to be addressed, and while he is confident in the supremacy of the Christian worldview, he cautions the reader against prideful behavior. At the same time, he understands sharp rebukes are sometimes necessary and explains how to deal with people who continue to heatedly disagree for personal rather than rational reasons. His last chapter provides some practical advice on how to be an “ambassador for Christ,” though I disagree with him when he says “Christian lingo” shouldn’t be used with unbelievers, as what that constitutes is rather subjective and possibly detrimental to maturity.

He suggests several neutral or inoffensive prefaces to disagreements or questions when one wishes to depart on good terms with another. He then shows how to redirect accusatory questions meant to paint an ugly picture of the Christian by addressing the underlying premises which logically led to that conclusion. He recommends finding common ground and explaining how, with respect to the two worldviews, the Christian alone can logically account for his belief.

On the other hand, the Christian can always thank someone for their thoughts and ask that time be taken for reflection if he is not able to think of a response to a particular question or argument. The individual is always in control of his side of the conversation.

Interacting with the finer points of logical analysis, he stresses the importance of examining the central thesis of an argument for factual accuracy, possible fallacies, and implications. He further provides many examples of how to question a person’s conclusions discern these. He notes that dealing with logically prior objections can undercut a present objection just as showing that two objections are incompatible cuts in half the number of arguments which need to be addressed.

In short, Mr. Koukl provides some very useful apologetic tips and does well to counsel believers not to be afraid of adverse worldviews. This is just a brief overview of the better aspects of the book. One should turn to the actual book for details and numerous examples.

Disagreements

1. I found it odd that Mr. Koukl, a Calvinist, would have a problem with determinism, but on pg. 128 he writes:

It always strikes me as odd when people try to advance arguments for determinism. Let me tell you why.

Determinists claim that freedom is an illusion. Each of our choices is fixed, determined beforehand be the circumstances that precede it. All of our “choices” are inevitable results of blind physical forces beyond our control.

The problem with this view is that without freedom, rationality would have no room to operate. Arguments would not matter, since no one would be able to base beliefs on adequate reasons. One could never judge between a good idea and a bad one. One would only hold beliefs because he had been predetermined to do so.

This is, of course, a false dichotomy. Naturalistic determinism and an undefined “freedom” are not the only alternatives. Divine determinism is an option - the only option, in fact - one which I’ve repeatedly defended (link). As to his specific criticism of determinism, since beliefs can be determined on the occasion of having examined the reasons for two different positions, it is the case that one can be determined by God to point to the reasons why such and such is logical and ought to be believed.

2. In what he calls the “professor’s ploy,” Mr. Koukl suggests a student use Socratic questioning on a “superior force” such as a professor who is taking “potshots at Christianity.” In this way, the student can both learn the professor’s reasons for thinking little of Christianity and test the merits of such thinking. The “ploy” comes when he gives an example of how a professor might attempt to shift the burden of proof to the student, challenging him to disprove what has been said. This is what Mr. Koukl advises the student say in reply (pg. 67):

Professor, I actually haven’t said anything about my own view, so you’re just guessing right now. For all you know, I could be on your side. More to the point, my own view is irrelevant. It doesn’t really matter what I believe. Your ideas are on the table, not mine. I’m just a student trying to learn. I’m asking for clarification and wondering if you have good reasons. That’s all.

Now, a good way to get on a professor’s bad side is for a know-nothing student to tell him he’s guessing. A better way to get on a professor’s bad side is for the know-nothing student to tell him that he’s guessing about the student’s “own view,” when the fact is the professor has only challenged the student to refute what the professor has said. The professor didn’t guess what side the student was on and could very easily point this out. Not only does this embarrass the student, but it is out of character with the rest of Mr. Koukl’s book which preaches patience and politeness.

Actually, the student’s reply also doesn’t work because everyone has a point of view, so everyone has a burden of proof. Socratic questioning is a good apagogic tool, but it is my opinion that Mr. Koukl is more adept at refuting non-Christian worldviews than defending his own. Of course, since Mr. Koukl does the former very well, this is not to say he performs the latter with little skill. But suggesting that an apologetic “babe,” as it were, try to take on a professor in so blunt a fashion is likely to hurt the student more than give him confidence.

The point is that Mr. Koukl tries to walk a fine line between epistemic humility, inoffensiveness, and exerting effort to “win someone over” (pg. 73). He does the job better than most, but there are some lapses. There are a few examples of this throughout the book, but to take just one in keeping with what has been said the above, in the chapter following the professor’s ploy (pg. 72), Mr. Koukl writes:

Questions are your arrows. Your target will be different in different situations. Sometimes your goal will be to defeat what you think is a bad argument or a flawed point of view. Your questions will be “aimed” at that purpose. Or you may want to use questions to indirectly explain or advance your own ideas.

While I don’t disagree with any of this, when this is read just after an example in which a student chides a professor for insinuating that his questions are meant to lead to conclusions contrary to those the professor is advancing, I have to wonder just how Mr. Koukl thought the professor was supposed to correctly infer when a barrage of questions are “aimed” at gathering information, when they are “aimed” at refuting a position, and when they are “aimed” at advancing one’s own position. He never explains how one does this. Yet instead of advising that the student reply to the professor that he was only attempting to gather information – a reply certainly more in line with Mr. Koukl’s position on cordiality – the written reply basically tried to show up the professor.

3. There is distinct tension between a couple of statements Mr. Koukl makes. After citing Acts 17:2-4, he writes (pg. 35):

Simply put, you can argue someone into the kingdom. It happens all the time. But when the arguments are effective, they are not working in a vacuum.

I agree, through the phrasing is awkward. The key point is that arguments play a central role in conversion. “Argument” doesn’t refer to vehement disagreement but rather a case for the truth of a [set of] statement[s]. But on pg. 55, Mr. Koukl writes:

Most people who believe in the authority of the Bible did not come to this conviction through argument, but through encounter… I came to believe the Bible was God’s Word in the same way I suspect you did. I encountered the truth firsthand and was moved by it. If you want skeptics to believe in the Bible, don’t get into a tug-of war with them about inspiration.

In the first citation, we read that arguing someone into the kingdom “happens all the time.” In the second, we read that “most people” aren’t convicted of biblical authority by argumentation. The context of the latter statement makes it possible that “argument” refers to vehement disagreement, but if so, it would be different from every other time it is used in the book. At the very least I would have used different wording. Or perhaps Mr. Koukl thinks that one can be argued into believing the gospel but not argued into believing that the source by which the gospel is known, Scripture, is authoritative. That would be a strange position. Regardless, I also think he overly minimizes the issue of biblical inspiration. More on this in the next point.

4. On pg. 144, Mr. Koukl makes one of the very few positive assertions one will find in the book:

The fact is, mankind is made in the image of God and must live in the world God created.

Unfortunately, he does not elaborate much on how he knows this. This leaves the reader with a feeling that something is wanting. Let’s apply Mr. Koukl’s “Columbo” to this statement: what does Mr. Koukl mean by “God”? In what sense are we allegedly in God’s “image”? How does he know either of these? Is Scripture the ground of his claim? Why should anyone believe Scripture’s metaphysical claims? Just because some of what is in Scripture is correct would not mean all of it is correct, right? Inductive reasoning is a formal fallacy, is it not? Why would prophecy, for example, be a proof of rather than merely an evidence for Scriptural infallibility or inerrancy? Or suppose Jesus was resurrected – does that necessarily mean He died for my sin?

How might Mr. Koukl respond to these questions? Well, we get some small indication in the next two pages:

We start with guilt, then reason back to morality and a moral lawgiver. We start with evidence for design, then reason back to a designer. We start with personal worth and significance, then reason backward to the source of all meaning. We start with reality, then reason backward to a cause that makes the best sense of what people already know to be true.

As is evident, Mr. Koukl is obviously a fan of classical apologetics (cf. pgs.53-54). This is effect-to-cause reasoning, or what might be called a bottom-up process. The problem with this sort of philosophic methodology is that in the last analysis it is inferential question-begging. Mr. Koukl very early in his book affirms the importance of knowledge, but when it comes to presenting a positive apologetic or case for Christianity in particular, we have, at best, “plausibility” and “probability.” Does knowledge consist in mere plausibility or probability? No. So these sorts of arguments leave open the option for an individual to reserve the right to suspend belief in Christianity. This is evident when Mr. Koukl writes on pg. 65 that:

There are only a few exceptions to the burden-of-proof rule, and they are usually obvious. We are not obligated, for example, to prove our own existence, to defend self-evident truths (e.g., denial of square circles), or to justify the basic reliability of our senses. The way things appear to be are probably the way they actually are unless we have good reason to believe otherwise. This principle keeps us alive every day. It doesn’t need defending.

Set aside the problems with empirical epistemologies and questions such as what is the meaning of “existence,” how does one gauge how plausible or probably a claim is, and what constitutes a self-evident truth. The main point is: if these really are all self-evident and known, why does Mr. Koukl think I should believe what may not be true? If the Christian worldview is not necessary, Mr. Koukl’s entire book is for naught.

The problem with classical apologetics is that it begs questions only answerable by defending certain first principles. “If there is moral law, there must be a moral lawgiver,” “If we sense an intricate, artful universe, then it must have been intelligently designed,” and “If the universe began to exist, then it must have been created” all may or may not be valid arguments, but the more important question is how one can verify the if-statements. Such requires examining the premises upon which the if-statements are constructed. And so on with the premises of those premises until one realizes the necessity of first principles. But once one realizes this, he may as well just become a presuppositionalist.

Classical apologetics may be useful in pointing out that a person’s beliefs, if true, would require God in order to justify those beliefs; however, since in response to this all the unbeliever would have to do is change his beliefs, what needs to be challenged is the ultimate basis upon which those beliefs are purportedly derived.

So not only can a top-down epistemology, where one begins with certain presuppositions and deduces theorems from there, avoid inferential question-begging and establish the necessity of a Christian worldview, it confronts the unbeliever with a foundational choice: knowledge and Christianity or a self-defeating alternative. I’ve written about Scripturalism elsewhere on this blog (cf. the links below); my focus here is that of the focus of Tactics: to show the appropriate method of argumentation rather than the argumentation per se.

Aside from the throwaway paragraph on self-evident truths cited above, pg. 32 seems to me to be the only other place in which Mr. Koukl may have alluded to presuppositionalism:

A different thing is necessary before we can accurately know what God is saying through his Word. Yes, the Bible is first in terms of authority, but something else is first in terms of the order of knowing: We cannot grasp the authoritative teaching of God’s Word unless we use our minds properly. Therefore the mind, not the Bible, is the very first line of defense God has given us against error.

For some of you this may be a controversial statement, so let’s think about it for a moment. In order to understand the truth or the Bible accurately, our mental faculties must be intact and we must use them as God intended. We demonstrate this fact every time we disagree on an interpretation of a biblical passage and then give reasons why our view is better than another’s. Simply put, we argue for our point of view, and if we argue well, we separate wheat from chaff, truth from error.

On this basis, Mr. Koukl concludes that “[reason] is the tool we use in our observations of the world that helps us separate fact from fiction…”

At best, this section is confusing. Taking the argument in order, Mr. Koukl first states that “we cannot grasp the authoritative teaching of God’s Word unless we use our minds properly.” So far as he is describing the historical process by which we come to know a proposition is true, I agree. So far as his second paragraph is designed to support the above premise, I can agree with that as well.

His conclusion however, is that “the mind, not the Bible, is the very first line of defense God has given us against error.” Now, this seems to me to be trading on an ambiguity between the historical process by which we come to know a proposition and the justificatory process by which we come to know a proposition. The former refers to the means by which we come to know a proposition. The latter refers to the grounds by which we come to know a proposition. Both are necessary for a sound epistemology. I have explained this distinction elsewhere on this blog. See here:

…for Scripture to be the ground of knowledge also presupposes that it provides an account of the means by which one knows that which God has revealed. Deducing [from Scripture] the historical process by which one comes to accept the axiom of revelation is as important as recognizing that such a deduction cannot circularly function as a premise by which the axiom of revelation becomes, oxymoronically, a conclusion.

Or here:

Having offered his case as to why alternative first principles yield logical inconsistencies and are therefore incapable of functioning as a sound basis for an epistemic system, Clark customarily presented his own first principle for inspection; that is, “the Bible is the Word of God.” Clark’s definition of Scripture and God as well as relevant biblical texts can be found in the Westminster Confession. This comprises what might be called the ground of knowledge. The propositions contained in the Bible collectively form the content of what one is able to, at present, tenably know. Distinguishable from this is the means of knowledge, the historical process by which one gains access to Scriptural propositions. Consistent with his deterministic theology, Clark, following in the footsteps of Augustine, Malebranche, and other Christian philosophers, supported the doctrine of efficient, divine illumination. Hence, one can gain access to the so-called world of Ideas because universal propositions can be mediated to his mind from God’s. On this theory, the role of sensation or experience in knowledge acquisition is at most an occasional stimulant.

Clark submitted that anthropological considerations and linguistics explain the reason man is able to understand God’s thought. Man is the image of God, so the structure of man’s mind images that of God. Logic “is the characteristic of God’s thinking,” so that man’s thoughts may be univocal with God’s is unsurprising. Because man possesses the necessary a priori equipment in order to think logically, persons are able to communicate by knowing the idea which a given word symbolizes.

Scripture as divinely inspired (here we see the importance of biblical inspiration) comprises the extant extent of what can currently be know. Taking as our first principle the Protestant canon as God’s word provides us with an epistemic system in which knowledge is possible. What claims can be derived from Scripture are those claims which alone can justifiably be referred to as known. This is the sense in which Scripture is the ground of knowledge and the reason I would argue that it’s clearer to regard Scripture as our first line of defense against error.

I suppose in another sense our minds might be considered the first line of defense against error. After all, it is my mind which assents to the truth of Scripture. Historically, I believe the Protestant canon to be God's word because God regenerated me, and as a regenerate I hear and submit to the voice of my Shepherd. This is the “encounter” to which Mr. Koukl alluded in point 3 above. But the fact is that Scripture, since it is the ground or basis of all knowledge, is necessary to justify this historical process. If the historical process by which one comes to know a proposition is not found in Scripture, then I would be unable to demonstrate how I came to know any proposition. This would fall under the category of “practical suicide,” as Mr. Koukl would call it (pgs. 128-129). So both the historical and justificatory or means and grounds of knowledge are necessary. But the former are known by means of the latter. This satisfies the self-attestation principle Mr. Koukl seeks.

Turning for a final look at Mr. Koukl’s view, he is adamant that he is neither a rationalist (pg. 33) nor an empiricist (pg. 204). Strictly speaking, he is correct. He is not purely either but rather a mix of both. This is obvious from his list of self-evident truths. He bases faith on reason rather than reason on faith [in God’s word as one’s fundamental first principle], and for the reasons already mentioned, this doesn’t work.

Again, these points are deeper than the beginner may be wont to hear or able to understand. Every apologist began somewhere. Mr. Koukl’s book is very well written for its purpose, though I hope my reservations are well-taken.

Christ's Sacrifice: Perpetual or Completed at the Cross?

2011-11-22T01:52:00.004-05:00

In accordance with their view of the Mass, the RC understanding of the nature of Christ's sacrifice and high priestly activity must differ from that of the Protestant. Very few RCs, however, believe that their position requires them to hold that Christ is re-sacrificed in the Mass. Rather, a more nuanced position is taken wherein Christ's high priestly sacrificial offering in heaven is perpetual or continual.

This is all unofficial, of course, because the Roman Magisterium can rarely be bothered to exercise its infallibility to clear these things up, but anyways, this article by Philip Hughes, a somewhat altered excerpt from his own commentary on Hebrews (pg. 337ff.), is a short but very well written explanation (see John Owen's exposition of Hebrews 7:25, 8:3, 9:12ff., etc. for more) as to why this notion of perpetual self-offering neither corresponds to OT typology nor can be found in Hebrews itself. It also touches on the classic Protestant position.

Hughes on Hebrews: Introduction

2011-11-18T23:31:00.003-05:00

I've decided to try to start working my way through commentaries on the Bible in an effort to focus my studies. I probably should have started this a long time ago, but I'm lazy and prefer a set way of thinking, and my decision doesn't mean I won't continue to think and write topically.

But in any case, I wanted to begin with a more challenging book of the Bible, so I somewhat arbitrarily selected Hebrews. Leviticus and Revelation were alternative considerations, but I've checked Philip Hughes' A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews so many times now that I suspect the librarians are going to soon take it away so other people can use it. Out of all the commentaries on Hebrews I've flipped through, this one has stood out the most. Hughes writes like I want to be able to write - accessible and unpretentious but with obvious scholarly knowledge of the material and a willingness to engage relatively modern issues. Here are a few things I took from his introduction which I hope to solidify in my memory over time:

Synopsis: pg. 10

“It is evident, therefore, that the whole practical thrust of the epistle is to persuade those to whom it is addressed to resist the strong temptation to seek an easing of the hardships attendant on their Christian confession by accommodating it to the régime of the former covenant, which they had professed to leave behind when they were baptized in the name of him who is the Mediator of the new covenant, and which in any case has been rendered obsolete by the advent of Christ and the inauguration of the new and eternal order of priesthood. This practical purpose is pursued by demonstrating that the former system was inherently imperfect and therefore impermanent and that the period of forty years in the wilderness under Moses was no “golden age” to be recovered or emulated, and by insisting on the absolute supremacy of Christ and the sole and complete sufficiency of the redemption that is ours through him. To compromise this unique gospel is to lose it; and losing this is to lose everything.

Occasion: pgs. 10-11

“What was the occasion that called forth this document? Because of the silence of the epistle itself and the absence of any external information or tradition which might provide a solution to this question, the only alternative to an incurious agnosticism is to attempt to construct a conjectural answer that takes account both of the internal implications of the epistle and of contemporary circumstances of its composition. Leaving aside for the moment inquiries concerning the identity and locality of those who are being addressed, it is apparent that a situation has arisen in which a particular community of Christians is contemplating a compromise of disastrous consequences since it would mean in effect the abandonment of the gospel. On the one hand, faced with daily indignities and the prospect of persecution of a more severe nature, they are sorely tempted to withdraw from the good fight of faith; on the other, enticed by teachings which threaten the uniqueness of Christ, they are in danger of squandering their birthright in order to purchase temporary relief. More specifically, they are showing a disposition to assign to angels a dignity above that of Christ, and to treat the Mosaic system with its levitical priesthood as an institution of abiding value and efficacy.

The strong temptation to effect a compromise with idealistic Judaism points to the conclusion that the opposition being encountered by the recipients of the epistle was Jewish rather than Gentile. Accommodation to judaistic beliefs and practices wa the prices that would purchase ease and acceptance. It is clear from Luke’s account of the fortunes of the early church that the first fierce opposition to the gospel came from the Jews, and that this hostility was intense because the original Christians were their compatriots whom they regarded as traitors to their ancestral religion. Peter and John, for example, were summoned before the Sanhedrin to be reprimanded and threatened (Acts 3 and 4); the apostles were imprisoned by the high-priestly party (Acts 5:17ff.); Stephen, the first of the martyrs, was stoned to death by the Jews (Acts 7:54ff.); the Pharisee Saul of Tarsus led the savage and systematic persecution of the apostolic church in Jerusalem and beyond (Acts 8:3; 9:1f.); and subsequently he himself, as Paul the apostle, met with violence from Jewish opponents of the gospel as he traveled from city to city (Acts 13:45ff.; 14:2, 19ff.; 17:5ff.; 21:30ff.; 22:22ff.; 23:12ff.). Congeneric antipathy must have been largely responsible also for the chronic poverty of the mother-church in Jerusalem (cf. Acts 11:29f.; 24:17; 1 Cor. 16:1ff.; 2 Cor. 8:1ff.; Gal. 2:10).

This consideration, together with the frequent indications that the temple priesthood was still in operation (see below, pp. 30ff.), would tell in favor of locating the recipients of Hebrews in Jerusalem or, more generally, on Palestinian soil.”

Place of origin and destination: pgs. 15-16

Speculations concerning the places from which and to which the Epistle to the Hebrews was written have been no less varied and inventive. The only possible indication in the epistle itself is the salutation at the end: “Those who are from Italy send you greetings” (13:24). Unfortunately, however, the designation “those who are from Italy” is ambiguous. If it means Italian Christians who were away from Italy, that is, in some country other than Italy, this would exclude Italy as the place of the epistle’s origin. But if it means those who are from or of Italy, in the sense that Italy was their homeland and implying that these were Italian as distinct from non-Italian Christians in Italy – a distinction to be expected in a cosmopolitan city like Rome –, the letter would then have been written from some place in the Italian peninsula.

pgs. 18-19

“There is general agreement that those to whom the epistle was addressed, wherever they were located, did not constitute the worshipping community there in its entirety. This is suggested particularly by the request that they should convey the writer’s greetings to all the leaders and to all the saints (13:24), implying, it seems, that there were leaders other than their own and saints other than themselves in that neighborhood.[1] Zahn and others have supposed that the recipients belonged to a house-church, similar perhaps to the congregation which used to assemble in the home of Aquila and Priscilla when they lived in Rome (Rom. 16:5; 1 Cor. 16:19). Be that as it may, theirs was a group which was seriously considering the advisability of devising a concordat or reconciliation with the Mosaic covenant and its levitical priesthood. Spicq’s suggestion that the group was composed of former priests converted to the Christian faith, who would have been more susceptible than others to such a temptation, is not unattractive. The temptation to effect a compromise with an idealistic form of Judaism, however, would have been felt by the Hebrew Christians, whether formerly priests or not, living in a Jewish environment, who thought that by this means they would be able to obviate the hardship and hatred which awaited those who professed Jesus as Christ and Lord. We may be sure that it was their “Hebrewness,” possibly some specific background that as Hebrews they had in common, that bound them together into a distinct community and that made it necessary for the writer of the epistle to instruct them so carefully on the transient imperfection of the old order compared with the unique and abiding perfection of the redemption achieved by him who is our great High Priest. Where this group of Hebrew Christians was living we do not know, though the probabilities increasingly favor a location somewhere in Palestine. The obscurity surrounding the place from which the epistle was sent continues to be impenetrable.

Authorship: pgs. 24-25

“Barnabas, however, is in many respects an attractive candidate. Unfortunately, unlike Luke and Clement, we possess no authentic writings of his with which to compare the epistle. Originally called Joseph, the name Barnabas, which Luke explains as meaning “the son of encouragement,” was given to him by the apostles, and it may be understood accordingly as a reflecting their estimate of his character and qualities. (The suggestion that the description of the epistle as a “word of encouragement,” 13:22, is a pointer to Barnabas, “the son of encouragement,” as the author is specious and paltry.) A native of Cyprus, with Greek as his first language, Barnabas was a Jew. Of particular interest and perhaps significance is the information that he was a Levite (Acts 4:36). It was Barnabas who befriended Paul after his conversion and allayed the suspicions of the apostles regarding the genuineness of his Christian profession (Acts 9:26ff.). Sent by the apostles to Antioch, he showed himself an enthusiastic supporter of the evangelization of the Gentiles, and he subsequently spent a full year, together with Paul, in that city instructing the numerous convert in the faith. Thereafter the Antiochene church sent him and Paul to Jerusalem with contributions for the relief of their fellow Christians in Judea (Acts 11:20-30). On returning to Antioch Barnabas and Paul were commissioned by the church there for the work of evangelism and Barnabas accompanied Paul on his first missionary journey. John Mark, his cousin from Jerusalem, went with them as far as Perga in Pamphylia, where he turned back (Acts 12:25; 13:1ff., 13; Col. 4:10). Barnabas is described as “a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith” (Acts 11:24), and was held in the highest regard as a leader in the apostolic church; indeed, in Acts 14:14 he is designated an apostle. Altogether, then, because of his acceptance among the leaders of the church in Jerusalem and farther afield, his close collaboration with the apostle Paul, his gifts as a teacher and evangelist, and his upbringing as a Levite, he possessed some excellent qualifications for writing the Epistle to the Hebrews.”

Date: pg. 30

“The rebuke in 5:11ff., that “by this time” they ought to be teachers instead of dull of hearing and immature, shows that the recipients had been Christians for some years, as also does the writer’s appeal to them in 10:32 to “recall the former days.” The assertion that the gospel “was attested to us by those who heard the Lord” (2:3) means that the author and the Hebrew Christians to whom he is writing had been evangelized by persons, possibly apostles, who had received instruction from Christ himself. To describe them as “second-generation Christians,” as F. F. Bruce, Spicq, and others do, is misleading, at least in the ordinary sense of the expression. They were simply believers at one remove from direct contact with the Lord. Their conversion could have taken place at any time after Pentecost – quite soon after that event, if Spicq’s hypothesis is correct which links them to the great number of priests who were obedient to the faith in the days preceding the martyrdom of Stephen (Acts 6:7).

pgs. 31-32

“The present tenses which indicate that the levitical priesthood was still operative when the epistle was written are as follows.

5:1-4. “For every high priest who is chosen from among men is appointed … to offer … he can deal gently … he himself is beset with weakness … he is bound to offer … one does not take … but he is called.”

7:21 (7:20 Gk.). “They have become priests.…”

7:23. “They are many in number who have become priests, because they are prevented by death from continuing in office.”

7:27. “He has no need, like those high priests, to offer sacrifices daily.”

7:28. “The law appoints men in their weakness as high priests.”

8:3. “For every high priest is appointed to offer….”

8:4f. “… since there are priests who offer gift according to the law, who serve a copy and shadow….”

8:13. “What is becoming obsolete and growing old is ready to vanish away.”

9:6f. “… the priests go continually into the outer tent, performing their ritual duties, but into the second only the high priest goes … not without blood, which he offers….”

9:9. “… gifts and sacrifices are offered which cannot perfect the conscience of the worshipper.”

9:13. “For if the sprinkling … with blood … and ashes … sanctified….”

9:25. “… the high priest enters the sanctuary yearly….”

10:1. “… the law … can never, by the same sacrifices which are continually offered year after year, make perfect those who draw near.”

10:3f. “… in these sacrifices there is a reminder of sin year after year. For it is impossible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sins.”

10:8. “… these are offered according to the law.”

10:11. “… every priest stands daily at his service, offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins.”

13:10. “We have an altar from which those who serve the tent have no right to eat.”

13:11. “… the bodies of those animals whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the priest … are burned outside the camp.”

[1] The significance of the term έπισυναγωγή (10:25), which some have interpreted to mean a distinct congregation within the larger church community, is discussed in the not on pp. 417f. below.

[Note: Rather than my laboring to copy all of Hughes' footnotes, some of which are to other sources or express the Greek of a particular passage, see here.]

Canon Closed

2011-11-18T11:33:00.003-05:00

Someone recently asked me to explain why I thought the canon of Scripture is closed. I cited a few arguments for him from various authors and then summarized those arguments as follows:

The only explanation of what it can mean when Paul says in 1 Corinthians 13:8 that prophecies, tongues, and knowledge will pass away and cease is that after the time of the apostles, the last of whom was Paul - as he was the last to whom Jesus appeared (1 Corinthians 15:8, cf. Hebrews 1:1-2) and therefore he who was to fill up the word of God (Colossians 1:24-26) - the purpose of divine revelation was fulfilled. The apostles laid a foundation to which no other [revealed] knowledge was needed in addition, for what had been revealed was complete or sufficient (2 Timothy 3:16-17) as opposed to that partial, orally disseminated knowledge which accompanying apostolic signs were designated to validate or attest (Hebrews 2:1-2).

If God is speaking to individuals today, this information would be binding on the consciences of all Christians. This is a serious claim which requires answers to at least these following questions:

How are such claims to be verified? Can anyone point to an actual, verified case?

What answer to the question of why God would speak to an individual today could be given which does not impinge on the formal and material sufficiency of Scripture?

Do such claims presuppose the necessity of apostolic succession, and if so, can such succession be identified?

The Good Work of Philosophy

2011-11-13T18:09:00.005-05:00

I only just noticed that some of the material from my essay submission to this year's TrinityFoundation contest was not included in what is published on their website (link). I forgot that in many of the essays which place, what is shown is excerpted from the whole. So, whether for the sake of brevity or because I wrote something which they found to be unjustified (which is possible), my critique of rationalism, conclusion on secular epistemology, introduction to Clark's "Westminster Principle," criticism of logical positivism, and thoughts on biblical politics was left out. [I happen to think this was done for the sake of brevity, since the material I wrote on logical positivism in particular was uncontroversial.] Since some of this material will be relevant to a future post I plan to write, I have here reproduced the full essay:

The Good Work of Philosophy

Christians are in need of an apologetic which can thoroughly equip them for the good work of guarding the gospel against those deceptive philosophies by which men are never able to come to the knowledge of the truth. Anyone who has attempted to organize a defense of the faith quickly realizes that it is no small task, as one must successfully integrate diverse fields of study like science, ethics, politics, history, and religion. Gordon Clark, a 20^th century Calvinist whose goal was to elucidate such a philosophy, argued that the center of the proverbial web to which each of these disciplines may be traced and by which each may be related to the others is a sound and uniquely Christian theory of knowledge.

Clark’s emphasis on the importance of epistemology as a means to a cohesive belief system is warranted, for to any assertion pertaining to science et. al., the question may be “properly ask[ed], How do you know?”[1] This poignant question is sufficient to refute skeptics who contradict themselves when they claim they cannot know truth, exposes as question-begging statements and actions which advocate a so-called suspension of judgment, and inevitably shapes one’s meta-epistemological thoughts regarding the nature and structure of knowledge itself.

Clark, for instance, contended that “knowledge means the possession of truth”[2] and that truth is “propositions that are consistent.”[3] The criteria to which one can refer to verify that he possesses truth is outlined by Clark in his various works, and a summary of it here will serve as a useful foundation for understanding Clark’s analysis of secular and Christian philosophies as presented in his Wheaton lectures.

Briefly, propositions can be separated into one of two geometrical categories: epistemic axioms and theorems.[4] One can know a theorem is true if it is contained in the body of propositions validly deducible from an axiom which yields a self-attesting, consistent philosophical system in which the ground and means of knowledge are explicated. Hence, while axioms by definition cannot be proven, there is nevertheless a mutual dependency inherent in the relationship between an axiom and its respective theorems. “By the systems they produce, axioms must be judged.”[5] As a theorem can be discredited if it does not follow from a purported axiom, an axiom can be falsified if it bears contradictories.

There are those who accuse Clark of impracticality for demanding that a worldview meet these requirements. Consistency, it is alleged, is an unrealistic, unachievable ideal. In response to such complaints, one can do no more than highlight the chaotic arbitrariness which would ensue if one were to insist on clinging to a self-defeating position. What deserve greater attention are secular axioms – some of which are unfortunately shared by some religious philosophers – chosen for the purpose of acquiring objective knowledge. For despite the impressive number of knowledge claims secular systems have accumulated over time, they are collectively only as rational as the first principle from which they are derived; if one’s axiom is demonstrated to be unsound, then all of his beliefs predicated on it are groundless.

It may be for his survey of these axioms that Clark is most well-known. Due to the continuing popularity of underlying principles first expounded by Aristotle, Clark’s critiques of empiricism have particularly elicited significant replies. Clark believed no empiricist has yet provided satisfactory answers to the difficulties attendant to a theory in which sensation is said to be the means of knowledge. To concisely sketch a few illustrations:

· The capriciousness of individuation: “…for Empiricists… the physical continuum and the Heraclitean flux prevent the identification and even the existence of individuals.”[6]

· Incorporeality: “…if sensory experience cannot deal with mountains and bears, much less can it account for… the ethical concept of justice and the mathematical concept of cube.”[7]

· Inductivism: “…universal judgments… are impossible, because no one has experienced all the past nor any of the future.”[8]

· The arbitrariness of inferences: “In Empiricism there is no reason for choosing six or eight sensations out of the fifty or a hundred we have at any one time and combining these six into the perception of a thing.”[9]

Moreover, these aforementioned problems presuppose that sensation is objective, reliable, self-attesting, and extensive, concessions Clark was by no means willing to vouchsafe.[10] Depending on the qualifications specific to a given empiricist, perplexities may even be multiplied. Any one of these points would corroborate Clark’s inference that empiricism is a futile epistemology; cumulatively, they are conclusive.

Contrarily, it is noteworthy that Clark was able to qualifiedly agree with some key ideas found in rationalism as “exemplified by Plato and Hegel.”[11] Contrary to the incoherence of pluralism, Hegelianism and theism both “hold that everything must be related to everything else in some way; there are no two things utterly independent, though… they may nonetheless be distinct.”[12] Also, because “all thought and speech depend on classification… no epistemology can succeed without something like the Platonic Ideas.”[13]

What both Hegel and Plato have in common with Clark is the recognition that omniscience is an epistemic necessity. Unfortunately, neither Hegel nor Plato adequately details how man accesses omniscience. Plato suggested that man’s senses occasion reminiscence of a part of the innate omniscience with which he was born. “The difficulty is that… sensation stimulates different notions in different people… The failure of Platonism… to ascend from Earth to Heaven leaves the theory ineffective.”[14] Hegelianism, due to its dialectic, maintains that knowledge of a given concept requires knowledge of the way in which it relates to other concepts. Clark pointed out that if such were true, “…we cannot know one relationship without knowing all. Obviously we do not know all. Therefore we know nothing.”[15]

From these considerations, one could argue Clark applied at least a variation of the following elenctic argument against rationalism in particular and secular philosophy in general. To claim to know a given proposition is true without knowing that another proposition is true begs the question: if truth is “a logically ordered series,”[16] it could be that the truth value of a given proposition depends on the truth value of a different proposition. For man to know even one proposition, then, he must either know all propositions or rely on one who does – one whose knowledge must be eternal, comprehensive, and intuitive.

As was seen, locating omniscience in man fails. Attempts to do so were not entirely fruitless, for they highlighted a philosophical problem in need of addressing and acted as a foil against which Clark was able to credibly propose his own axiom for scrutiny; namely, “the Bible is the Word of God.”[17] Faith in an omniscient God whose revelation is necessary for man to know [Him] was Clark’s reasonable alternative to secular axioms which, since they lead to inconsistencies, cannot function as a basis for an epistemic system. It now must be determined whether or not the propositions contained in Scripture can justifiably be said to comprise that which one is presently able to know.

If Clark’s Westminster Principle is to be taken seriously, “there is no reason for making assertions beyond those that can be validly inferred from the statements of the Bible.”[18] Scripture is full of statements affirming its divine origin (2 Timothy 3:16, 2 Peter 1:19-21). Inter-textual analysis (Hebrews 1:1-3, 2 Peter 3:15-16) and divine illumination (John 10:3-5, 26-27) constitute the means by which one becomes enlightened as to the extent and contents of the canon. The role of sensation in Clark’s system is, at most, as an occasional stimulant God uses to mediate knowledge to men’s minds. As God perspicuously spoke to the patriarchs and Jesus to His disciples, the Spirit unequivocally communicates God’s eternal word to modern men through Scripture.

Indeed, the purpose of language is that believers might be able to worship God in truth (John 4:24). If man’s knowledge is merely analogical to God’s, not only would it be impossible to worship Him, but it would also connote that men are skeptics or that they know a proposition which God doesn’t. Either of these deductions would be fatal to Christianity. Providentially, there is no indication that exhortations to grow in knowledge (Colossians 1:10, 2 Peter 3:18) refer to a subspecies of truth, and that one becomes a participant in the divine nature itself by knowledge of God[’s word] necessitates that what men know is univocal with what God knows (2 Peter 1:3-4).

In fact, man was created in God’s image (Genesis 1:26-27). God is truth and logic (John 1:1, 14:6), so one would expect that in these respects the structure of man’s mind mirrors that of God. Ephesians 4:24 and Colossians 3:10 confirm that man was created originally righteous. Furthermore, because he naturally possessed knowledge and righteousness, Adam must also have been concreated with the a priori equipment necessary in order to think logically and rightly.

Sin distorted man as the image of God, but he still retains the distinction (Genesis 9:6, Acts 17:28). The image of God, then, must refer to the rational faculty. Unregenerate individuals are by nature extensively depraved because their thinking is, at root, fallacious, but they are still able to understand and construct valid arguments. Restitution of the divine image now requires that man become a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17). This renewal by the Spirit and word of truth conforms man to the image of Christ, the Logos in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge (Colossians 2:3). Saving faith in the last Adam obtained by this regeneration, far from being blind, is actually the result of man for the first time being able to see (2 Corinthians 4:4-6).

Logical thinking, then, must be continuously exercised by Christians. As Jesus said, “A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher” (Luke 6:40). Jesus is the teacher, and the sword of the Spirit is the tool with which He instructs a believer to be furnished for every good work (2 Timothy 3:17). Sanctification is by the truth, not an analogy thereof (John 17:17). Upon glorification, the Christian’s transformation will be complete and confirmed, but until then, he must live in and deal with a fallen world. For though their epistemic axioms are erroneous, secularists are still influential. Thus, it will be useful to compare secular ideologies to what Scripture has to say on science, ethics, politics, history, and religion.

In discussing the purpose of science, the previous remarks on empiricism must be remembered. While scientific discoveries cannot produce knowledge, it is often the case that they trigger belief. For example, Hume famously observed that correlation does not imply causation, and yet it is customary to assume a uniformity of nature. Rather than viewing an artificial experiment as a bearer of truth, Clark regarded the purpose of science as “manipulation”[19] or “an attempt to utilize nature for our needs and wants… not a way to any knowledge.”[20] Because Clark accepted that God has determined all of man’s thoughts – his opinions as well as his knowledge – man’s responsibility is to intentionally act on those thoughts in a godly manner. Such does not depend on the possibility of empirical knowledge. One may, by scientific procedures, come to believe something upon which he must accordingly make a choice. What is important in the realm of practical theology is the intention of the choice made in conjunction with one’s belief, not whether or not the belief is true.

This leads to the question of ethics, a less compromising subject. After all, either one is obliged to obey a given precept or he is not. Ethical dialogue can, however, lead to confusion if one does not carefully define his terms. Is good that which one ought to do, or is that which one ought to do good? To be more precise, what principles ought one to follow, if any? It seems intuitively obvious that rape and murder are unethical, but ethical relativists or emotionalists would have to acknowledge that one may validly consider them to be good.

A. J. Ayer, consistent with verificationism and Positivism, taught that ethical posits are neither true nor false. “Ought” and “should” statements are emotive. Stevenson, another logical positivist, contributed to this theory by explaining that emotivism does not preclude a means of ethical dialogue. By distinguishing between facts and preferences, Stevenson commented that increasing one another’s awareness of facts can only provoke beneficial conversation. But Stevenson too realized that fundamental differences in preferences are irresolvable. As such, some logical positivists bite the bullet and accept moral nihilism. One will not usually encounter persons who will admit that murder and rape are amoral choices – and in any case, one can always point out that ethics as well as science is tied to epistemology – so it may be permissible to pass over these rarities for a more representative stance.

Utilitarianism, possibly the most widely acclaimed secular position, is an ethical theory which defines “good” along a spectrum. A choice which causes the greatest happiness to the greatest number of people is said to be the greatest good, and a choice which causes the greatest pain to the greatest number of people is said to be the greatest evil. This understanding of good and evil leads to irrationality. As a form of consequentialism, choices made by Utilitarians must be prospectively amoral; since one cannot know the future consequences of his choice, choices are arbitrary. Possibilities of future consequences also suggest that the moral value of any choice is subject to change at any instant. Even [relatively] simple knowledge of all the ways in which a past choice has affected present reality is itself a problem, as one would need to be omniscient to know his calculations are both accurate and exhaustive. Another problem is that in order to judge the comparative “goodness” of one’s choice, one would need to know counter-factuals; ironically, such is only possible by divine revelation. There are still more complications when one considers, within a Utilitarian framework, whether or not one individual’s pleasure could qualitatively exceed the sum pleasure of many, whether or not it is proper to state minorities possess rights, and whether or not utilitarianism can escape the demerits of empiricism, inductivism, and subjectivism. Given the extremely relativistic and flawed nature of Utilitarianism, one may well believe the demise of Utilitarianism would maximize the pleasure of those who sincerely desire to be moral.

In short, secularism fails to forward a legitimate theory of ethics because it cannot solve issues like Hume’s is-ought dilemma, the problem of suicide, and moral authoritativeness. Christianity can and does. God, as the creator of all things, made things to be as they are. God created men with the intention that they be responsible to obey His precepts, and so men are (Romans 9:19-21). The chief end of man is to glorify God by following His commandments (1 John 5:3). As a matter of fact, the chief end of God is to glorify Himself in all that He does (Romans 9:22-23, Ephesians 3:10). Consequently, the problem of evil is no problem at all, for sin can function as a means by which God’s glory – His power, wrath, compassion, mercy, grace, wisdom, etc. – is manifested.

Although God is ultimately sovereign, He has seen fit to authorize subordinate institutions such as church and government to dispense discipline and regulations to discourage sin. While a comprehensive political theory was not the focus of the authors of Scripture, there are statements pertinent to private ownership (Acts 5:4) and duties (Genesis 9:6, Romans 13:1-7) which make it possible to delimit the power and design of government (Daniel 6:7-10, Acts 4:19).

Forasmuch as many grumble that Clark’s theory of knowledge is unrealistic, when it comes to matters of science, ethics, and politics, it is more often the secular philosopher than the Christian who must assume an ideal reality. Forced submission is the logical end of any secular society in which there can be found differences in opinions. Totalitarianism or majority rules have historically conquered individual “rights.” Even the hypothetical alternative, anarchism, presupposes an optimistic view of human nature which is simply not historically tenable.

The philosophy of history itself is a matter of debate in secularist circles. Some naively think that history – or any study – can be approached objectively or without presuppositions. Those who admit that history is tinged with an author’s bias are at least honest. Subject matter, source material, significance, and attributed causes are all subjectively chosen by the writer. And, just as with any other topic, history must fit within a coherent epistemic system. The tentativeness of science and the historic horrors which secular philosophers largely ignore have to be accounted for by the historian.

The theistic account of history is somewhat varied and determined by broader religious beliefs. Neo-orthodox theologians, because they consider Scripture to be a human record of divine acts, posit Scripture is fallible and even mistaken on a few points. Additionally, some of the events recorded in Scripture are for didactic purposes only; that is, events need not be assumed to have literally occurred. That these “scholars” do not have immediate recourse to an omniscient God is enough to epistemologically disqualify their view on the nature and hermeneutic of Scripture. It is confusing, though, that one would so highly esteem a source which admits errors. These being the same sorts of individuals who utilize the law of non-contradiction in order to deny it, however, maybe it should not come as surprising. Notwithstanding, the more historical Christian perspective discerns the progressively revealed, cyclically patterned, and eschatological character of history as told by God (Romans 11:36).

In comparison to the assertions made by secularists, what can be extrapolated from Scripture may seem relatively small. More important than this, however, is that a Christian can substantiate his claims. “…whatever knowledge revelation gives us, however restricted, is to be received with thanksgiving.”[21] Or, in the joyous words of the Psalmist, “the sum of Your word is truth, and every one of Your righteous ordinances is everlasting” (Psalm 119:160). Because the Axiom of Revelation satisfies the preconditions for knowledge, “…secular philosophy is not a greater failure than revelational philosophy is a success.”[22]

[1] Gordon Clark, Clark and His Critics pg. 28.

[2] Gordon Clark, A Christian View of Men and Things pg. 33.

[3] Gordon Clark, Clark and His Critics pg. 149.

[4] cf. Gordon Clark, Thales to Dewey pg. 88.

[5] Gordon Clark, Clark and His Critics pg. 53.

[6] Gordon Clark, Ibid. pg. 32.

[7] Gordon Clark, Ibid. pg. 33.

[8] Gordon Clark, Ibid. pg. 34.

[9] Gordon Clark, Ibid. pg. 34.

[10] cf. Gordon Clark, Language and Theology pgs. 132-134.

[11] Gordon Clark, Clark and His Critics pg. 29.

[12] Gordon Clark, Modern Philosophy pg. 288.

[13] Gordon Clark, Clark and His Critics pg. 29.

[14] Gordon Clark, Ibid. pg. 30.

[15] Gordon Clark, Christian Philosophy pg. 153.

[16] Gordon Clark, A Christian View of Men and Things pg. 23.

[17] Gordon Clark, Clark and His Critics pg. 74.

[18] Gordon Clark, God’s Hammer pg. 3.

[19] Gordon Clark, Clark and His Critics pg. 40.

[20] Gordon Clark, Modern Philosophy pg. 76.

[21] Gordon Clark, Clark and His Critics pg. 56.

[22] Gordon Clark, Ibid. pg. 78.

Faith - Our Righteousness?

2011-11-11T15:16:00.008-05:00

I was recently made aware of that [some] Roman Catholics think that faith itself is what is reckoned for righteousness in justification. Sometimes I get so caught up in wanting what Protestants believe about justification to be the center of discussion - doctrine is fortified or exposed when tested by the best counters an opponent has to offer - that I don't press enough to understand what others believe.

After hearing this contention made by more than one RC, all of whom I would consider to know well more than the average layman, I've decided to address it. I remembered reading a book by Piper called Counted Righteous in Christ some time ago which I thought dealt well with this notion of reckoned righteousness as consisting in belief in the gospel, so I thought to select a few arguments from Piper's book which I think illustrate its problematic nature:

1. In Romans 4:4-5, in which Paul contrasts two alternative views of the means by which righteousness could be reckoned to an individual, that which is reckoned in the first example, wages, is external to the individual['s works]. For Paul's "conceptual framework" to be consistent, then, must not the "gift [of righteousness]" (4:4; cf. 5:15-17) be received by means of faith (over against works) as something external to the individual['s faith]?

…So God’s imputation, in Gundry’s view, is not crediting an external, divine righteousness to Abraham, but counting something that he has, namely faith, to be his righteousness.

What seems out of sync with this interpretation is that Paul’s exposition of imputation, which immediately follows verse 3, gives us a conceptual framework for imputation very different from the one Gundry sees in verse 3. Paul speaks immediately in terms of something external (a wage) being credited to our account, rather than something internal (faith) being treated as righteousness. “Now to the one who works, his wage is not credited according to grace, but according to debt.” If Paul’s conceptual framework were the same as Gundry’s, and verse 3 implied to Paul that the credited righteousness consists of faith, then why would it enter Paul’s mind to illustrate this with the words, “To the one who works, his wage is not credited according to grace, but according to debt”? Why would he speak in terms of a wage (or a gift) from outside ourselves being credited to us by debt (or by grace)?

Would he not rather say something like, “Now to him who works, his works are credited as (= treated as) his righteousness according to debt (κατα όφείλημα, kata opheilēma)”? This would correspond nicely with verse 5 (“his faith is credited for righteousness”) if faith-credited-for-righteousness in fact means faith-treated-as-righteousness (which, I will try to show, it doesn’t). Thus Paul would accomplish what Gundry seems to think he wants: to show that our righteousness consists not of our works but does consist of our faith. But this is not the conceptual framework that Paul develops.

2. Piper cites several passages designed to show faith as the instrument to that by which we are reckoned righteous rather than that which is itself reckoned for righteousness (Romans 4:11, 10:10), and the points he makes in respect to each of these passages are worthy of consideration and more so when taken cumulatively, which is why I recommend the reader look at his analysis (pgs. 53-64 in particular in relation to this blog post). For the sake of brevity, however, I think that his best support for the general argument that Scripture teaches faith to be the instrument rather than the ground of justification is found in Philippians 3:9.

Another evidence that Paul does not intend for the phrase “faith is credited for righteousness” (4:5) to mean that our righteousness “consists of faith” (I, 8) is found in Philippians 3:8b-9.

I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish in order that I might gain Christ, (9) and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith.

When Paul says that he aims to be found “in [Christ], not having a righteousness of my own,” does he mean that the righteousness he hopes to have in Christ is the righteousness that consists in his own faith? That is highly unlikely, because therighteousness that he aims to have is his by virtue of being “in Christ” (ἐν αὐτῷ, en autō) and is said to be “through faith” (διὰ πίστεως, dia pisteōs) and “based on faith” (ἐπὶ τῇ πίστει, epi tē pistei). The conceptual framework here is not that faith is our righteousness, but that, because of faith, we are united to Christ in whom we have a righteousness “from God” (τὴν ἐκ θεοῦ, tēn ek theou). This too supports our earlier conclusion that imputed righteousness is not “righteousness that consists in our faith,” but rather an external “righteousness credited to us because of our faith.”

Private Judgment

2011-11-06T13:49:00.014-05:00

The accusation of "private judgment" has in my mind always been one of the weakest objections to Protestantism. Take, for example, the following line of argumentation from Bryan Cross (link):

When we approach Scripture, how do we determine what the Holy Spirit is saying? Either each individual is ultimately his own highest authority regarding what the Holy Spirit is saying, or that authority belongs to something outside the individual. In the former case, we are left with “private judgment,” and the endless fragmentation that must accompany it, as history shows. But the only plausible authority outside the individual, for determining what the Holy Spirit is saying in the Scriptures, is the Church.

What is meant by "determine" is ambiguous. It would be clearer if he answered the analogous question "how does Mr. Cross determine what the Roman magisterium is saying?" Nevertheless, here are the two most likely possibilities that come to mind:

1. Perhaps the question posed desires an answer to how one can understand what a communication - specifically, the communication of God through Scripture - means. Denigrating private judgment in this sense would be a plain attack on the divinely ordained function of language in general or special revelation in particular.

Of course, since at least one of Mr. Cross' collaborators thinks that [some] Scripture is incapable of being understood apart from ecclesiastic intermediaries (link), I suppose the latter actually could be what he meant by private judgment. Suffice it to say that the Protestant position is that the ability to understand Scripture is not only available to an elite few who in turn dumb down the message for their subordinates (Psalm 19:7); that is Gnostic.

To respond to the argument in the above link, in order for the argument against perspicuity to work, Nehemiah 8:1-8 must ironically be perspicuous. But to be clear, Nehemiah 8:1-8 doesn't say exposition was necessary for the people, though such certainly could have been conducive to their understanding and is further useful in that it demonstrates clarification and deduction from Scripture is legitimate. Most important to the present subject is the point that Nehemiah 8:1-8 is actually just an example of obedience to the prescription set down in Deuteronomy 31:9-13, a prescription in which Moses makes no mention of a need to speak anything more than what was written (cf. Joshua 8:30-35, 2 Kings 23:1-3, Nehemiah 9:1-3, etc.).

2. Perhaps private judgment refers to the process by which an individual decides to which of two or more mutually exclusive interpretations - one of which may make the most sense to the individual but all of which he understands - he will submit as authoritative. In this case, one can only take Mr. Cross' word that if his own judgment conflicted with that of the Roman magisterium, he would submit to the latter; in other words, he cannot definitively demonstrate to others that he is not one of the men alluded to in 2 Timothy 4:3-4. Finally, as John Robbins wrote in Slavery and Christianity (pg. 34):

The decisions not to think about certain subjects, to abandon one's own analysis, and to trust the Roman Catholic hierarchy in matters of faith and morals are themselves decisions of private judgment - rash, uninformed, and foolish, to be sure, but still private judgment. Those individual decisions, moreover, are not made once for all; they are made daily. The decision not to think about the most important matters is a private judgment that is made repeatedly by every subject of the Roman Church-State. The attack on private judgment is not only self-contradictory, it is also un-Biblical. Speaking to the multitudes, Christ Jesus himself commands them to think for themselves rather than rely on their religious leaders and experts: "Yes, and why, even of yourselves, do you not judge what is right?" (Luke 12:57).

A Short Point on Morality and Politics

2011-11-05T00:24:00.004-04:00

If one points out to a moral relativist that on his view, totalitarianism as a political goal or voting according to personal religious beliefs - especially beliefs which conflict with the moral relativist's opinions - are both legitimate options, not infrequently he will quickly appeal to political "rights." When asked why one should respect his "rights" if morality is relative, he will quickly leave. Moral relativism means political relativism.

Clark's Lectures 4

2011-11-03T17:27:00.005-04:00

Continuing with select citations from Clark's lectures and works, here are a few interesting quotes from his book Karl Barth’s Theological Method:

Operationalism

Page 66: “Let us not claim unanimity for the new outlook, but a fair number of philosophers and scientists have adopted the theory of operationalism. This type of thought denies that the laws of science describe the processes of the real world. Scientific concepts, instead of being transcripts of “antecedent being,” are merely plans for future laboratory procedure. They are directions for the use of apparatus in the production of some desired result.”

Axioms and Apologetics

Page 92: “…a Christian presupposition, first principle, or axiom produces logical consistency, while a secular presupposition can apagogically be shown to result in inconsistency.”

Page 95: “Axiomatization is simply the perfecting and exhibiting of the logical consistency of a system of thought. In view of Calvinism’s well known reputation for consistency, axiomatization and Calvinism should get along well together. The many theorems derived from the smallest possible number of axioms… And since the axioms, if there be several, depend for their meaning on their interrelationships, axiomatization would rule out the possibility of even a single axiom in common.”

Page 96: “There are two parts to the process [of the reductio]. First the apologete must show that the axioms of secularism result in self-contradiction… Then, second, the apologete must exhibit the internal consistency of the Christian system. When these two points have been made clear, the Christian will urge the unbeliever to repudiate the axioms of secularism and accept God’s revelation. That is, the unbeliever will be asked to change his mind completely, to repent.”

Page 97:“The initial implausibility of a thorough-going, all comprehensive system of axioms and theorems does not lie in the fact that it is a hitherto unrealized ideal. The implausibility rests on the contrast between the common opinion that the secular sciences are true, at least largely true, and the implication of Christian axiomatization that they are all completely false… the present point is simply that God is the origin of all truth. Then all truth is one and self-consistent. But if so, non-Christian systems of thought must be false...”

The Image of God and Apologetics

Page 100: “…Reformed theology, while denying a common epistemological ground, has always asserted a common psychological or ontological ground. Believer and unbeliever alike, though their philosophic axioms and theorems are totally incompatible, bear in their persons the image of God from creation. This image consists of or at least includes their ordinary rational ability as human beings and as an exercise of this rationality certain minimal theological and moral principles. These beliefs, dimly and inconsistently held, often submerged and repressed, can be thought of as a point of contact for the Gospel.”

Pages 102-103“In Reformed theology the defaced but not annihilated image of God is sinful man was never conceived as being an axiom common to two systems of thought. The image is a psychological, mental, ontological reality. It is an existing part of human nature…Faith is a mental activity and by definition presupposes a rational subject. Reason therefore can be considered to be an element common to believer and unbeliever; and if “apprehension” of the Word of God is the understanding of a divine message, then the image of God preserved from creation and the fall is a prerequisite thereto.

Man’s logical capacity is not the only constituent of God’s image. In addition there are a few simple theological and moral beliefs… we must admit the existence of unbelievers who actually even if inconsistently believe a few divine truths. Two systems of thought as such cannot contain common knowledge. Based as they are on separate sets of axioms, they can have no proposition in common; and if one system is truth, the other must be false. However, living people are not so thoroughly consistent as ideal systems. People are inconsistent; they believe contradictories without noticing the fact. Hence it is psychologically possible for an unbeliever and a believer to agree on a given proposition. And this point of agreement may be used as a point of contact for the Gospel. What is thus theoretically possible, the majority of exegetes have supposed to be declared actual in the first chapter of Romans. Does not Paul assert that the heathen have a knowledge of God? This knowledge may not be extensive, but its importance depends on its being the basis of heathen responsibility.

Now, because such beliefs held inconsistently, the Gospel has a point of contact, and apagogic argumentation can be extended. Not only may the apologete show the self-contradiction inherent in secular axioms, as we said above; he may now stress the inconsistency of accepting both a secular axiom and a divine truth; and he may draw out the inferences of the divine truth and show its consistency with the additional truths of revelation.”

Innate Knowledge

Pages 104-105: “…the Gentiles in the first chapter of Romans were unbelievers. Even if they had heard Paul preach, they were still unbelievers, idolaters, and gross sinners. Yet it is of such people that Paul says, “Knowing the judgment of God, that they which commit such things are worthy of death, not only do the same but have pleasure in them that do them.” Therefore even on Barth’s exegesis the Pauline unbeliever has a belief in common with the man of faith… Now Paul indeed bases responsibility on knowledge, but he asserts that the heathen had knowledge, some knowledge at any rate; they tried to suppress it, but could not quite succeed. And even if it were Paul who “awakened” this knowledge in them, the implication would be that some remnant or potential knowledge had been lying dormant in their minds to be awakened. And, finally, to repeat, it is indubitable that the heathen and the unbeliever have this knowledge in common.”

People and Truth

Page 113: “If we can contradict ourselves at one point, cannot we do so at any and all points?”

Page 127: “Although not usually recognized as such, a certain claim to infallibility meets us in our everyday affairs. When an accountant balances his books, does he not assume that his figures are correct? When a college professor hurries to class for fear that his students will disappear if he is late, does he not make judgments as to the time of day and the proclivities of students? … Must not all people act on the assumption that their beliefs are true? ”

Knowledge as Propositional

Page 130: “Knowledge and meaning always have the form of a proposition – or if significance is sometimes conveyed in an exclamation or a gesture, like shorthand, it may with little trouble be put into the ordinary sentence structure of a proposition. To prove that he knows botany, a student must make certain statements, often on an examination sheet, such as, “apples grow on trees and belong to the Rosaceae.” If he cannot make any such statements, he flunks and everyone concludes that he knows nothing about botany. It is no different when persons are the objects of knowledge… the distinction between a man and his work is an impossible abstraction; when one praises or condemns a work, he praises or condemns a man at the same time. This knowledge is obviously propositional… Knowledge consists of propositions, of predicates related to subjects, i.e., of truths. The meaning which the words designate is the object of knowledge. To talk of a different inner meaning, not itself a proposition, never proclaimed or thought, is a trait of irrationalism.”

Page 150: “In opposition to subjective idealism Plato made the point, a good point too, that if we think, we must think something, and something that exists. But when this existing object of thought is imagined to be like a physical object, instead of being a truth or proposition, the theory becomes impossible.”

Christianity and Rationality

Page 115: “…Christianity rightly so-called is a rational and intelligible religion. Whatever of zeal, devotion, volition, or even emotion it may have, it is fundamentally intellectual. It brings information. Otherwise it would not meet human need, human need of salvation from sin. Irrationalism is a travesty on human nature, on communion between God and man, and on God himself.”

Pages 174-175: “Two things are equally essential to Christianity: certain historical events and their correct theological explanation. If Jesus did not visibly die on the cross at a definite time and place, Christianity is false; but also Christianity is equally false if that event is not to be interpreted as a sacrifice to satisfy divine justice. Historical event and theological explanation are equally essential.”

Page 224: “Christianity is rational because the God who made the Bible his revelation declares that he is a rational Being of wisdom and understanding. He created man in his own rational image; and these two rationalities, if they are to communicate at all, must because of their nature communicate intelligible. Undoubtedly there exist religions of emotion and mysticism, non-Christian religions they are; but let them remain silent, for they have nothing to say, and any noise they make conveys no message. There are also devout but confused minds who, combining elements of different sorts, are inconsistent in their beliefs. Such minds, however refined and agreeable they may be personally, should either hate the one and love the other, or else hold to the one and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and unintelligibility.

Christianity is rational and rationality requires verbal inspiration. When God, the rational God, speaks to his rational creatures, he must, we insist, speak the truth. His word cannot be false… To insist that God’s words cannot be false, even to the jot and tittle, gives man no control over God; it is merely the expression of God’s nature and man’s need. No rational ground whatever can support the proposition that God speaks falsities. Of course, a man of the Enlightenment, denying that God spoke the Bible, might construct a religion of human invention; but the Bible claims that its words are God’s truth words, so that no theologian can be both Biblical and rational if he rejects verbal inspiration.”

Clark's Lectures 3

2011-11-03T02:37:00.006-04:00

Here are a few quotes I found to be interesting from Clark's Today’s Evangelism: Counterfeit or Genuine? Though some of the points are particularly well argued, because I don't necessarily agree with everything written, so I've refrained from commenting on anything.

Commands, Emotions, Faith, and Volition

Pages 20-21: “Does the Bible indicate that God is subject to sudden, involuntary, non-intellectual upheavals in his usually calm state of mind? Well, hardly. The Westminster Confession, the best summary of the contents of the Bible, says that God is without parts or passions. Parts refers to bodily organs. Bodies have parts, minds do not. But God is also without passions. The word passion, in more modern terminology affection, is wider than the term emotion but includes the latter. A passion or affection is the result of being affected by some external force. A dog is affected by a whipping; a student is affected, sometimes, by the possibility of a good grade. There are modern psychology books written about “the affective consciousness.” But God is not affected by anything. Of, in another translation of the Greek term, God does not “suffer” anything.

On the contrary, not only the Westminster Confession, but all or nearly all the historic creeds says that God is immutable. He does not change. Emotion, however, is a sudden, involuntary change. To have emotions would be inconsistent with God’s eternal state of blessedness.

Now, someone may say that God loves and that love is an emotion. But with respect to love, two points must be made. First, God’s love is eternal, therefore not a sudden change, therefore not an emotion. Second, God commands us to love him. A command requires voluntary obedience. Therefore the love God commands is volitional, not emotional. Doubtless God commands the impossible. He commands us to keep his law perfectly. This we cannot do because of sin. The impossibility arises from us; it does not arise from any irrationality in the commands. God commands the impossible, but he does not command the absurd.”

The Trinity and Absolute Divine Simplicity

Page 28: “The doctrine of the Trinity is found only in the Biblical revelation. No one would ever have thought of it, no one ever did think of it, apart from the Bible. True, some philosophers had three-fold sets of principles. Plato had the world of Ideas, the Demiurge, and chaotic Space. But this is not a tri-personal divine being. Plotinus has something similar. He spoke of the One, the Ideas, and the Soul. But he also had a Logos and a lower world. The whole was continuous. There is no tri-personal supreme being. Plotinus’s One does not think and cannot know. Neo-Platonism is not at all similar to Trinitarian Christianity.”

Propitiation

Pages 49-50: “Even the covenant with Noah, which the dispensationalists try to reduce to politics, and in which they see no reference to the Atonement, speaks of placating an angry God. This idea is obscured in the King James version, and the American version as well. These translations say that God smelled a sweet odor. But the Koehler-Baumgartner lexicon (the latest lexicon at this writing) gives just one meaning to the Hebrew word transliterated niychoach: appeasement (Beschwichtigung). The “smell of appeasement” then means the placating odor. See also the verbal usage in Ezekiel 5:13, “I will appease my anger.” Hence the correct translation of Genesis 8:20-21 is, “And Noah builded an altar unto the Lord… and offered burnt offerings on the altar. And the Lord smelled the placating odor.” Thus anticipations of Christ’s sacrifice in the Old Testament and explanations of his sacrifice in the New agree that he was the propitiation for our sins. He turned aside God’s wrath and anger which we deserved.”

Scripture and Inerrancy, Science and Operationalism

Pages 57-58: “It seems to me that a misunderstanding of science at this point has led the author into a misunderstanding of the Bible. If the Bible contradicts itself, as clearly as the wave theory contradicts the corpuscular theory, we will be forced to abandon the Bible. No one in his right mind can believe contradictions. In fact, if the antinomy is as he says it is, God himself is faced with an insoluble puzzle. And if something is insoluble for God, then God cannot be trusted. Packer tells us that God has given us this antinomy and if he has given it to us, is that not enough? Cannot we trust God? The answer is that we cannot trust contradictions and insoluble antinomies, no matter who gives them to us. If someone told me to believe that the number two was both even and odd, I would conclude that this someone was not God. God, anyone I could not think of as God, does not talk nonsense, and insoluble antinomies are nonsense. They are just as much nonsense as it would be to say that the path of a point equidistant from a given point has three right angles along it.

But if we see what modern science can do with its two theories of light, and if we pay just a little attention to sovereignty and responsibility, these unfortunate consequences never arise. The laws of science should not be considered as intended descriptions of natural motions. They should not be considered as directions for operating in a physics laboratory. They are methods for producing desired results. This in brief is The Philosophy of Science and Belief in God. It is always possible to use either of two mutually exclusive methods for producing the same desired result. To cure milk fever in cows, one may use the antiseptic lugol, or one may use compressed air. Both work satisfactorily. Hence, in manipulating light, a physicist may use either one; or if for a particular purpose the two are not equally satisfactory, for lugol cannot do everything compressed air can do and vice versa, the physicist can use for one purpose and the other for another.”

Language and Internal Relations

Page 66: “There are many who in that day will say to Christ, Lord, Lord. And he will profess, I never knew you. Thus, clearly, a verbal profession of Lord is not saving faith. One must understand what the term Lord means. Further, as has already been pointed out, the name Jesus must be correctly apprehended. Confess that the Jesus of Strauss, Renan, or Schweitzer is Lord, and you will go to hell.”

The Cause of Faith

Page 77: “How God gives a man faith is very easily explained. God gives a dead sinner faith just the way Jesus made dead Lazarus come out of the tomb. Just as God said, Let there be light, and there was light. That is all the how there is. It is an act of omnipotence: the exceeding greatness of his might power which he wrought in Christ when he raised him from the dead.”

The Nature of Faith:

Choice and Assent; Volitional, Decisional, Obedient

Page 76: “Faith certainly involves an act of will. It is the decision to believe what one understands.”

Page 79:”But often evidence, witnesses, and historical documents are mistaken. Shall I believe them in this case? The evidence does not compel belief, but I may choose to believe, or I may choose not to believe.”

Page 81: “What is needed for saving faith is God’s gracious act of giving him the power to will. When God gives him this power, he will assent, believe, and exercise faith. Faith indubitably is the gift of God. It is the gift of voluntary assent. That an unregenerate man cannot believe does not contradict any of this.”

Page 83: “I regret Calvin, a giant among pygmies, said that assent comes from the heart and not the head. This distinction is unscriptural; the Bible nowhere opposes heart to head, for it does not mention this “head.” Naturally assent comes from the heart because all psychological actions of a person come from the heart. There is nothing else for them to come from.

Aside from this unfortunate slip, Calvin proceeds to say that assent is the obedience of faith. Clearly obedience is a matter of volition. Assent then is an act of will. No pious additions are necessary, for the assent itself is already pious.”

Page 85: “Even the intellectual work of coming to understand a sentence requires assent and volition. It does not require assent to the truth of the sentence in question; but it requires a voluntary act of attention, and assent to the truth of other propositions by which its meaning is uncovered. One of the important points to keep in mind is the object of assent in different contexts. The person who does not assent to the Gospel, the persecutor Saul for example, must assent to propositions regarding the Hebrew or Greek usage of the word Lord, if he is to understand “Jesus is Lord,” and react with a persecutor’s zeal.”

Page 86: “Hodge, however, continues, “But if the question be, What is the act or state of mind which is required in the Gospel, when we are commanded to believe, the answer is very difficult.”

How can it be very different? If faith generically is intelligent assent, every species of faith must be also.”

Assurance

Page 91: “Just because a person believes that he is saved is an insufficient reason for thinking that he is saved. It may be suggested for sober consideration whether or not those who are most easily assured of salvation are least likely to be saved.

Nevertheless, in spite of all hypocrisy and self-deception, it is possible to have assurance.”

Page 94: “Without minimizing the other items in this list, it is well to emphasize knowledge. If one wishes assurance, he will try to increase his knowledge. Knowledge is mentioned trice in the section. Therefore, if one wishes assurance that he is regenerated, let him ask himself, Do I study the Scripture? How much of it do I know? Some people know so very little; some people believe so very little; some evangelists must have so very little assurance.”

The Mode of Baptism

Page 106: “In Daniel 4:33, i.e, LXX 4:30, one of the Greek words used to say that Nebuchadnezzar was wet with dew is baptizo. I can hardly think that this was immersion. Mark 7:4 says that couches were baptized. It seems to me that this means they were washed. In Hebrews 9:10, 13, 19, 21, the several baptisms (King James, washings) were done by sprinkling. In I Corinthians 10:2 the Israelites were baptized, but the Egyptians were immersed. Similarly in I Peter 3:21, Noah was baptized, but the wicked were immersed.”

Transmission

Page 108: “A scribe might make a few mistakes in copying the Word of God, but we would still have substantially the Word of God. The difference is between a correct copy of error and a slightly incorrect copy of truth. I cannot agree that the latter is useless.”

The Theological Necessity of A Priori Divine Revelation

Page 108: “I begin with a question, the basic question. Is there a God? If there is, can I know Him? My answer to this question, If there is a God, I cannot know it unless He tells me about Himself. I can study His doing, Nature; but what shall my conclusion about God be? That He is kind and benevolent? Or that Nature is vicious and careless? I think it is obvious that whatever I see in Nature, and whichever I emphasize, will be for reasons of personal experience and inclination.”

Pages 111-112: “It would seem from several things you say that there are a number of statements in the Bible that contradict your world-view. In fact, you immediately suggest that you would not accept this or that if it contradicted your total experience. Hence, in answer to my question in my last letter, How do you decide to accept some of the Bible’s statements and reject others? You answer that you test the Bible by your experience; you do not accept something as true, just because the Bible says it. But you develop a criterion from experience and measure the Bible by that criterion.

In your total experience you are reading the Bible. You say, “It tells me there is a God… It tells me God revealed himself… It tells me of a Resurrection.” But if you do not accept the truth of propositions on the basis of the Bible’s assertion, you cannot accept these points without confirmation from experience.”

Recognition of the Scope of the Canon

Page 113: “But if there is a revelation, there can be no criterion for it. God cannot swear by a greater; therefore he has sworn by himself. One cannot ask one’s own experience to judge God and determine whether God tells the truth or not. Consider Abraham. How could Abraham be sure that God commanded him to sacrifice Isaac? Maybe this suggestion was of the devil; maybe it was a queer auto-suggestion. There is no higher answer to this question than God himself. The final criterion is merely God’s statement. It cannot be tested by any superior truth.”

Various Essays

2011-10-31T00:36:00.005-04:00

I've placed 2nd in the 2011 Trinity Foundation essay contest. It covers material related to Gordon Clark's Wheaton Lectures. You can read the essay here.

Those who are interested in similar papers can read: my '09 essay on Clark's book God's Hammer, for which I placed 3rd, here; my entry into last year's contest on Religion, Reason, and Revelation here; a research paper I submitted to one of my philosophy professors here, with my responses to his criticisms of it here.

Clark's Lectures 2... kind of

2011-10-17T20:41:00.007-04:00

A half a year ago, I began a series in which I transcribed some points from Clark's audio lectures available here. I dropped that in part because I realized that what else I had been copying was already available in print. That realization was a little annoying.

However, the audio of what I had been transcribing was so excellent that I purchased the book itself, Clark's Language and Theology. The last chapter in the book can be listened to here (part 1) and here (part 2). The rest of the book I consider to be a well-written supplement to the course in logical positivism and pragmatism I took last semester, notes on which I've posted elsewhere on this blog.

Instead of typing points made from Clark's audio lectures, I have here decided to post both some particular points Clark made in the first 130 pages of Language and Theology which were of interest to me and, where I found it necessary for my benefit, some summaries and reminders in brackets:

Classes

Page 18: “The answer to this, so it seems to the present writer, is that every class is a member of itself. Were this not so, logic would be impossible. In fact, Russell himelf says so. The symbolic logic he desires to substitute for ordinary language depends on the axiom, a < a. All the a’s area’s. One is included in one, and zero is included in zero. Anything else, as Parmenides said, “completely destroys the possibility of argumentation.””

[The law of identity requires that even individuals are classes. Whether or not classes can be subordinated is a matter of distinguishing, if possible, between the essential and accidental or particular attributes of a given subject. The class of “Socrates,” for example, can be subordinated under the class of “Men,” though not vice versa. Apply this idea to 1) the "Third Man" argument against Platonism and 2) the fact that knowledge is propositional.]

The Adequacy of “Ordinary” Language

Page 19: “It is much easier to write a short line of symbols instead of two or three lines of English. But the philosophic point is that not only can the equation be expressed in English, but that without ordinary English the equation could never have been understood. Plus, exponent, multiplication, equality has to begin in ordinary language. And even today a small amount of English appears here and there to indicate what some part of a formula means.”

[To understand a mathematical formula, for example, one must understand that meaning to which the symbols in the formula refer by “ordinary language.”]

Internal Relations

Pages 19-20: “Now, first the brief intellectual history at the beginning noted that Russell early renounced Hegelianism and became an empiricist. This change started with an attack on Bradley’s, and Hegel’s, theory of internal relations and the substitution of an atomic theory of external relations. The former, holding that everything is implicated in everything, results is an absolute monism. The definition of cat for example, is part of the definition of dog, and also of Betelgeuse. For Russell relations are external to the objects related. These relations, though it seems strange to say so, are grasped by immediate sense perception. This seems strange because it is hard to see what color above and to the left of are, or to hear what noises uncle and is greater than give off. However, such are the atoms of Russell’s world.

In conformity with this, propositions are true in isolation. A proposition is true if it corresponds to an atomic fact or a combination of them. “The car is in the garage” is true if we see a car, a garage, and an in. Thus, language consists of words, each of which designates a sensory individual.

To be fair to Russell, one must acknowledge that he later modified such an absurdity. He came to doubt the reality of is and the, if not in. These nonrealities he then explained as the logical positivists did later, as parts of a logical framework without objective referents. This framework became his symbolic logic.”

Page 21: “If there were no sense of sight, there would be no sense of hearing. If there were nothing hard, there would be nothing soft. If there were no animals, there could be no plants. The reason is that each of these terms expresses a distinction from its opposites. Sight is a form of nonhearing. Were they the same, we might have the term sensation, but we would not have two terms of different meaning. The terms “plant” and “animal” would not apply to different objects, if there were no different objects. There might be “living beings,” but no plants and animals. Similarly, there would be no living beings, if there were no nonliving beings. This should be sufficient to dispose of logical atomism.”

Page 27: “The great absolute idealist held that the simplest object implicitly contains the universe. If it were different in any way, every other thing in the universe would be different. It would be a completely different universe.”

[The thesis-antithesis distinction means that any and every concept will entail knowledge of what a subject is not as well as what it is. Applying this to the true objects of knowledge – propositions – implies the necessity of an eternally omniscient source of knowledge, i.e. the argument from the contingency of knowledge. Further apply this to the coherency of philosophical systems.]

Logic and Conventionalism

Page 48: “But when when Ayer says that there is no absolute standard of rationality, his words go beyond the positive laws of science; they include the law of contradiction, for this law has traditionally been considered to be the basic test of rationality. Ayer, of course, insists that present logic is a convention that may well be replaced in the future. But if I believed now that next year, or next century, inconsistency and self-contradiction would be rational, it would have a tremendously destructive bearing on my belief that these laws are rational now.”

[Denying an absolute standard of rationality leads to self-contradiction.]

Christianity and Dualism

Page 74: “Christianity reunites the resurrected body with the soul in the eschatological future, indicating also that the soul enjoys the presence of God in the interim.”

[The mind is separable from the physical body, as is the case during, for example, the period of time between death and the resurrection.]

Nominalism

Page 91: “Scholastic nominalism, he asserts, is inconsistent because it still retained the reality of individuals. Neo-nominalism abolishes all substantives: All is flux and names distort reality. If universals are unreal, individuals are too, for the mere naming of a thing is a minimal universal. Neo-nominalism therefore has no things, but only “events.” But this makes nonsense of (1) perceptual meanings; (2) value meanings; and (3) descriptions; then (4) because it makes nonsense of metaphysics, it makes nonsense of all empirical meaning, for the former conditions the latter…”

[Nominalism is opposed to realism. Universals and individuals are both “real” because they are propositions in God’s mind or thoughts; “reality” is propositional truth).]

Theories of Truth

Page 91: “Sometimes Urban is not only perceptive, but witty as well. The several theories of truth, he says – correspondence, coherence, and pragmatic – cannot be shown to correspond to truth. Coherence coheres with nothing. And the pragmatic theory does not work. Therefore the neo-positivists conclude that the meaning of truth is a meaningless question, for if meaning is always reference to a sensory object, truth can have no meaning because it refers to no object: The truth of the criteria is truth only of interpretation.”

[A theory of truth must be as consistent with its own principle as that which is said to follow from it.]

Knowledge as Propositional

Pages 97-98: “A noun all by itself is neither true nor false. Knowledge (and is not knowledge the possession of a truth?) always comes in propositions. Otherwise language could not express a truth. Therefore the intellect does not grasp individual material things. It is also impossible to know mental “things,” if there are such. Is the concept of two an individual thing? Whether or not, the concept of two, all by itself, is unknowable. “One plus one equals two” can be known, and we assert it as a truth; but the number two, alone, like the oak tree, is neither true nor false. The content of knowledge is always propositional. This view allows the intellect to do something else besides drawing conclusions. It can know the premises as well as conclusions. Call it simplex intuitus, or contemplation, or understanding, it is different from drawing an implication. Axioms can never be conclusions. But all truth comes in propositions. One can somewhat anticipate how this view of truth can apply to a theory of language.”

[A proposition is either true or false. Knowledge of the truth of a proposition is to know its contradictory is false. A propositions is true if it is one of God’s thoughts.]

Meaning and Symbols

Page 89: “It is implausible because without the “intuition” of an object, there would be no stimulus to expression. Why or how could anyone invent a word, other than a nonsense syllable, if he had nothing to express? The meaning must come first and its symbol second.”

Page 123: “Moreover, before a man constructs a symbol, he must have something in mind to symbolize.”

[Symbolism presupposes meaning.]

Pages 102-103: “The letters d-o-g and the letters H-u-n-d and the letters c-h-i-e-n are all adequate to represent a certain type of animal. Symbols are always adequate, just because they are symbols. It seems useless to question the adequacy of theological language. If theological thought can be defended, the language will take care of itself. A person may indeed think of cat or God at the wrong time; and he may say chien when he means chat, but this is no defect in language as such. Therefore if one has an idea of the shapeless number that solves the question x²+1=0, any symbol will do.”

[Symbols are arbitrary tags of thoughts.]

Miscellaneous Problems with Empiricism

Pages 20-21: “Uneducated people talk about the five senses, and touch is one of the five. But Aristotle knew that what we call touch is three different senses. He explained the common misapprehension on the ground that the skin is not the sense organ, but a medium that serves three different organs underneath. Now, if the air, continues Aristotle, were a part of the body, enveloping the face as the skin does the fingers, we would suppose that smell, taste, hearing, and sight are all one. Even as it is, though Aristotle does not mention it, we cannot be sure that sight is a single sense. Maybe there are as many senses as there are rods and cones in the retina. The difficulty here is in identifying an atomic sense.”

[The ambiguity of sensation means that it is possible man may possess more or less than the five commonly attributed to him. Furthermore, a man may not possess certain sensations others possess, and given that this could be true for all men in relation to, say, animals, the precision of what “sensation(s)” man does possess is questionable.]

Pages 28-31: “The standard forms of empiricism, surely Wittgenstein’s, depend on a theory of images; and they usually add an Aristotelian process of abstraction in order to get concepts…

Since this pictorial view is inherent in all empiricism, excepting only Berkeleyan subjective idealism and pyrrhonian skepticism, it deserves the most careful consideration. Important as the theme is in philosophy, there is nothing more important for religious theories of language and knowledge, for it underlies the possibility of any and every theological sentence.

Other minor criticisms may surface on later pages, but here two fundamental objections demand attention: one has to do with the idea of picture, and a second with the idea of representation or correspondence. This second point, the “correspondence theory of knowledge,” faces the insuperable objection that it disallows any knowledge of reality at all. Whatever reality may be, whether individuals like trees and rocks, or Platonic Ideas, or whatever, this theory provides us only with pictures of them. The object of knowledge is therefore a representation and not the reality itself. Since the mind contains only the picture and never the “thing,” there is no possibility of knowing whether or not the representation is similar to the object or not. To recognize a similarity between two things, they must be compared, and hence both must be in the mind. But if the reality is in the mind, the picture with its similarity is useless. If the reality is not in the mind, the picture, so far as we know, is a picture of nothing. There is hardly any objection to empiricism more fundamental than this one…

The other point, previously mentioned, has to do with the idea of images and their special arrangements…

At best it is an induction from questions asked of and answers received from a large sample of “ordinary uneducated persons.” This is an induction; and the validity of induction is an indispensable element in scientific positivism. But induction, unless it be complete induction which is never the case in science, is always invalid…

But second, and conclusively, induction, if it proves anything, proves the falsity of the empirical principle.”

[1. Correspondence: Given that one cannot completely penetrate a physical object due to his limited perspective, what he senses can only correspond to or represent the object, which, if such is how the propositions one believes about a subject are allegedly justified, leads to skepticism. 2. Pictures: Not everyone possesses visual images, and the subjectivity of sensation leads to relativism.]

Page 41: “Now, finally, a note on protocol sentences and their ostensive sources. The beginning of meaning lies in pointing with the finger at a visible object. Only after pointing can language come into play. But if we can point at a cat or dog or tree, how can the meaning of in, for, quickly,greater be seen with the eyes? Not to mention the square root of minus one?”

[Protocol sentences are the empirically fundamental and ostensively justified propositions whose subjects refer to sensations. Since not all subjects are physical, however, sensation cannot be the sole means of knowledge.]

Page 103: “Bushnell seems to oscillate between language and the thought it symbolizes, for he explains that logic – not the choice of symbols – developed from grammar and grammar came from physical relations in nature.

This is a basic and fatal flaw in all empiricism. Even Aristotle failed to give Aristotelian logic an acceptable basis. The reason is that the laws of logic are universal. The syllogism Barbara is always, everywhere, and without exception valid. But experience is never universal. One may observe a thousand black crows, but this is of no value in supporting the proposition, All crows are black. The next crow may be an albino. Hence physical relations in nature, if indeed they could produce grammar, would still never arrive at any principle of logic, mathematics, or theology.”

[Abstracting universal laws from experience is question-begging.]

Canonicity

Pages 113-114: “In the recent past several writers have said that the purpose of the Bible is to present salvation in Christ. But since Kings and Chronicles do not clearly do so, these books are not the Word of God. No doubt most of John’s Gospel is the Word of God, but very little of Chronicles. It is right here that the pointed question must be put. What criterion is used to distinguish religious literature from non-religious? What criterion is used to determine that the purpose of the Bible precludes historical books from being the Word of God? Most of the authors who make these distinctions offer no criterion at all. If they did, a Moslem or Hindu would reply, “that may be your idea of religion, but it is not mine”; and a Christian would reply, “that is your notion of what is excluded from salvation in Christ, but it is not mine.”

There is indeed a way for these people to avoid logical difficulties, paradoxes, and analogy. To quote one of them: “It is possible to lead a religious life without discussing it or verbalizing very much about it.” If a persons never says anything, he obviously does not flounder in fallacious implications. No one can refute him, for he says nothing to refute. What one can truly say of him, however, is that he is not a Christian, for Christ commanded his followers to make disciples, “Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:20). Christians must “verbalize” (to use contemporary gobbledygook).”

[One's choice of criterion for canonicity must be examined for internal consistency, as a philosophical system stands or falls on the merits (or lack thereof) of its own axiom(s).]

Analogical and Univocal or Literal Truth

Page 88: “Unless the analogy is based on a literal and univocal similarity, there could be no analogy at all.”

Page 99: “The second example is that of some “Protestant controversialists” who have trouble with the epistle to the Hebrews. They argue that Christ relinquished his office of priest because after his ascension he sat down on the right hand of the heavenly majesty. Priests stand; kings are seated. No one can be both seated and standing at the same time. Therefore Hebrews is inconsistent because it describes him as sitting and also argues as a priest. Mascall, to defend the consistency of the epistle, argues that analogies are not to be taken literally. Analogies literally understood may conflict, but yet convey consistent meanings. To some extent this is true, if analogies convey enough meaning. But would it not be better to end this puzzle before it begins? Sometimes priests sit down and sometimes kings stand in their chariots as they ride into battle.”

Page 100: “If the doctrine of the atonement were clearly known, a preacher might use a pleasing analogy or illustration that might attract his congregation and help fix the meaning in their minds. But suppose none of them has the least literal notion of what doctrine X means. This might not be the case with some well instructed congregations, but it was certainly true on many foreign mission fields in the ninth or nineteenth century. Now, then, says the missionary, I want to explain to you doctrine X. None of them had even heard the word X before. So the missionary says, X is like the dawning of the morning. One of his audience thinks, X an event that happens approximately every twenty-four hours. Another in the audience thinks, X is something reddish-orange. A third guesses that X is a work of art, though not necessarily reddish-orange. A fourth supposes that X is a method of locating east. But since none of them has any knowledge of the literal meaning of X, they have no way of determining in what respects X is like the dawn and in what respects it is not. Analogies require but do not furnish information.”

Page 106: “Bushnell and Gilkey apparently use the term vaguely to denote any kind of similarity. These men do not seem to consider that the statement of similarity must be literal, not analogical; and that without the literal basis no analogy is possible.”

Page 127: “Of course there are figures of speech, metaphors, anthropomorphisms, and the like. But these would be meaningless if there were no literal statements to give them meaning. For example, II Chronicles 16:9, “The eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth,” is ludicrously ridiculous if taken literally: little eyeballs rolling over the dusty ground. But unless the statement, God is omniscient, is literal, the figure has nothing to signify.”

[Analogies presuppose univocal knowledge, literal truth.]

Mysteries and Understandability

Pages 129-130: “But mysteries are not necessarily impossible or even difficult to understand. In the New Testament mystery does not refer to something we call mysterious in English. For example, 1 Corinthians 15:51 states a mystery: it may be hard for some people to believe, but there is no difficulty in understanding it.

Then, too, it is false to say that “the kingdom of heaven cannot be brought down to earth for our inspection.” Christ did just that. Also the kingdom remains with us, and we inspect it daily.

But once more, if “the comparison is no more than a comparison,” or, better, if it is as much as a comparison, the particular truth illustrated by the comparison must be understandable, for otherwise the parable’s language would not reveal the truth to us.”

[Scriptural mysteries can be known. That is, in fact, the purpose of their having been revealed.]

God and Language

Pages v-vi: “The Bible, written in human language, has a great deal to say about language. God speaks and the world appears. God creates a man who speaks and listens to him. God created many languages at the Tower of Babel. God speaks through his prophets; he puts his words in their mouths. God the Son himself speaks, in person, and in Aramaic, apparently. He causes the apostles and prophets to write down his own words. One implication of all this is that not only is language completely adequate and, properly used, meaningful, but its origin is God himself. One of the primary purposes of language is to discuss theology, and any philosophy that attempts to drive a wedge between language and theology is false. Human language is a totally adequate tool to express truth, including divine truth.” (Robbins)

Page 125: “Then second, the idea that if God speaks in words, he is somehow “bound” by an alien force, it a thoroughgoing misrepresentation. The words themselves are mere signs or symbols. They designate ideas or truths. If God cannot use symbols to express his truth, he is indeed bound and limited. A God who cannot speak is not omnipotent. In fact in such a case God would be more limited than man, for a man can speak.”

Pages 125-126: “The phraseology here is again propaganda, for the important question is not whether some people misread the Bible, but whether the words and sentences of the Bible are authoritative statements because they are true, because they are the words of God. It is obviously poor thinking to attack a theory of the inspiration and truth of the Scriptures on the ground that some people do not understand the words. Must one take a textbook on calculus as mythological, poetic, or parabolic and not literally true, because some high school students cannot understand it?”

Page 130: “Surely language, as God’s gift to Adam, has as its purpose, not only communication among men, but communication between man and God. God spoke words to Adam and Adam spoke words to God. Since this is the divine intention, words or language is adequate. To be sure, on occasion, even on frequent occasions, sinful man cannot find the right words to express his thought: but this is a defect of man, not an inadequacy of language. The Bible does not countenance a theory that originates language in pagan mythology with the result that divine truth is unintelligible.”

[The sufficiency, authority, and perspicuity of the adequate language of Scripture does not hinge on whether or not such is understood.]

Behind the Curve

2011-10-07T19:57:00.010-04:00

Early yesterday, I left a comment on this article:

Here are some edited comments by one of our members posted in our private discussion group concerning the Calvinist claim that the Arminian view of faith makes faith a work created by man:
When they make that charge, they conflate the faith/works debate and the free-will/determinism debate into a single issue. This approach has textual problems, because when the Bible discussion faith-vs-works, it does so in a specific context that is not obviously related to predestination [cf. Rom. 4:4-5; Eph. 2:8-9]. It also has a logic problem, because from a Calvinist perspective, we have to wonder what was the point of the faith/works distinction in the first place. In other words, if we cannot boast in our faith because it is predestined by God, then we also cannot boast in our works because they are predestined by God. But the Bible specifically says that salvation is by faith rather than works, lest any man should boast. Paul's explanation is not very meaningful if free-will, not works, is what gives us a reason to boast.
Some Calvinists try to resolve the issue by saying that neither faith nor works has anything at all to do with our salvation. But that also strips Paul's words of their meaningfulness. Why emphasize faith if we are to regard it as such a small thing?
But a straightforward reading avoids these questions. If we just set aside the obsessive free-will/predestination focus, the text makes sense. God has not given us a way to earn forgiveness; instead, he just calls us to trust in what Christ has done for us. That trust is important, but by definition it means relying on God instead of ourselves. Thus, we do not boast.

Here's the rub (allegedly): it is a common Calvinist argument that Arminians, among others, cannot consistently believe in salvation by grace alone, for if grace is an insufficient (albeit necessary) condition for salvation, then by definition grace alone cannot lead to one's salvation. For faith to be contingent on the exercise of one's supposedly libertarian free will would, in effect, make faith a work, for the application of redemption would hinge on man's cooperation in salvation contrary to Jonah 2:9, 1 Corinthians 15:10, etc.. I, a Calvinist, have indeed used some form of this argument (cf. my third cross-ex question here).

Rather than reply to this argument, the Arminian in the above article seeks to go on the offensive. Essentially, the author points out that from a Calvinist's perspective, both faith and good works are predestined, yet the Calvinist does not believe that faith can be a ground for boasting; therefore, why should the Calvinist believe good works are a ground for boasting? After all, both are predestined. On the other hand, if the Calvinist should reply that good works would not be a ground for boasting, this would suggest that Paul is worried about nothing when writes that salvation is not of works, lest any man should boast.

That writing a blog is useful can be demonstrated after reading articles such as the above. There are few things I find as satisfying as having anticipated an argument. For example, in the last year, I wrote one post distinguishing between faith and good works (link; cf. here) and another post explaining why [predestined] good works are indeed praiseworthy (link). Briefly:

Intentions refer to why or for what reason we will or choose.

A necessary precondition for discerning whether or not a work is good hinges on an understanding of one’s intentions (1 Corinthians 10:31). E.g. one may refuse to steal, but if he refuses for some selfish reason or, generally, any reason other than that such refusal is right obedience to God’s authoritative law which thereby shows right respect for God’s glory, such an intention connotes a work which is sinful rather than good.

Contrarily, one cannot “intend” to understand or assent to a proposition as true; he either does or does not. Both understanding and assent, then, do not hinge on the exercise of one’s own will...
There seems, therefore, to be at least one way in which saving faith differs from a good work: both may be caused by God's grace, but only works proceed from our [determined] purposes.

A work is intentional or purposive. A work is praiseworthy if it is good. A work is good if done in submission to God for His glory. However, works are not that by which one is saved - not efficiently, instrumentally, or meritoriously. It is true that faith is the instrumental cause of justification, but faith as not a work, the Arminian's article misses the mark and fails to provide a counter-argument to the Calvinist's allegation that they cannot believe in salvation by grace alone.

Impossible Worlds, Absolute Necessity

2011-09-25T17:35:00.014-04:00

Almost a year ago, I wrote a post which, for me, was unique in that I prefaced the thoughts stated therein with a bit of hesitation. Recent reading and a guest post on Molinism have caused me to reconsider those thoughts.

In that post, I was trying to provide a Reformed reply to the following question put forward by Carl Henry: "Does the very notion of "events which could have been otherwise" violate divine omnipotence and omniscience?" Notwithstanding my attempt to answer in the negative, even a few weeks after writing the post, I frustratingly wrote to a friend:

I cannot say that I am quite satisfied with it. For instance: why did God choose to effect this possible world? Presumably because it pleased Him. Why did it please Him? Presumably the answer has something to do with His nature. But it seems to me such an answer implies that God must have effected this possible world, since God's nature is not itself effected but rather that by which all other things are effected. God's nature is determinative. That in turn implies this is the only possible world, in which case the problem reasserts itself: how does God know counter-factuals if this is the only possible world? Vexing...

It wasn't until recently I discovered that there is precedent in the history of Reformed theology for rejecting the concept of counter-factual knowledge (cf. Richard Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics pgs. 428-432). I may write a separate post on this. Here, however, I will only be concerned with explaining why I have come to think - in contrast to an assumption of the aforementioned blog post - that this is the only possible world. In so doing, I will be providing an alternative Reformed defense of the biblical doctrine of divine omniscience.

At the same time, I do not wish to imply that I think everything I wrote in my post from a year ago is wrong. I still believe God's righteousness and the manifestation of His glory are correlated in that God's righteousness is demonstrated in what John Piper would call His unswerving commitment always to preserve the honor of his name and display his glory. I still believe God's decree must be non-arbitrary. I still believe that:

God's decree to effect this possible world implies that this possible world is entailed in God's decree to maximally manifest His glory; that is, given God's purpose to maximally manifest His glory, God necessarily must have decreed to effect this possible world.

What I have reconsidered is whether or not there could be "possible worlds" - worlds God could have instantiated - other than this actual world. There are several reasons for this:

1. As my remarks to a friend indicated, I believe there is reason for everything God has decreed. That would include the teleological end of all things, God's glory. Ironically, I wrote a post 3 years ago (republished here) in which I made a statement very much in line with what I think now:

For God to act in a manner which would not bring Himself maximal glory… would constitute a contravention of the divine nature, and since God cannot deny Himself, God’s actions too are determined [by His own, immutable nature].

Why did God decree to maximally manifest His glory? I don't see any other possible conclusion than something similar to this or what I said to my friend. In fact, to say there are multiple possible worlds is simply to say God's instantiation of this possible world was not necessary. On this supposition, can there be a reason God instantiated this possible world? Would not such a reason imply the necessity of the instantiation? If not, then is not the alleged reason an arbitrary one?

2. Let us suppose God had actualized a different possible world; after all, if God's actualization of this world wasn't absolutely necessary, He could have chosen to actualize a different possible world. But this means God's knowledge is not eternal, since His knowledge [of what is the actual world] would not be necessary.

God knows that this is the actual world. But if God has a libertarian free will, it cannot be denied He could have chosen to instantiate (and therefore could have known as actual) a completely different possible world. Making God's knowledge contingent on a "free" choice - even His own - requires a succession of ideas in His mind (knowledge of possible worlds -> choice -> knowledge of the actual world), and that destroys His eternal omniscience. Not only is God's instantiation of this world non-arbitrary, but God also didn't compare multiple possible worlds in order to come to a decision as to which to put into effect.

This is a most important objection because it cuts across all [Christian] systems which believe in an eternally omniscient God.

3. Suggesting God's knowledge could be other than it actually is also contradicts His immutability.

Conclusion: God knows who He is because of who He is. He knows this world is possible both because He has the power to effect it and because effecting it would not contradict who He is. He necessarily effected this possible world because no other world fits this criteria. This is not to say God's will is under any external compulsion; rather, His works are intrinsically determined by His nature.

Guest Blogging on Molinism

2011-09-19T17:55:00.003-04:00

I have written a post on Molinism as a guest blogger here. Some time in the next few days I will write a follow-up post on the - or at least a (!) - Reformed position regarding God's "types" of knowledge.

Justified by Faith Alone, but not a Faith that is Alone

2011-09-13T16:45:00.008-04:00

I was listening to a debate on justification between a Reformed Protestant and Roman Catholic, and in the course of the debate the question was asked what an often repeated Reformed phrase - "men are saved (justified) by faith alone, but not a faith that is alone" - actually means. The Roman Catholic was having some problems understanding how this statement is compatible with the doctrine of sola fide (justification by faith alone).

Protestants believe [saving] faith is that alone which accesses us to Christ by whom we are justified (declared righteous). This is why it is called the instrumental cause of justification. When a Protestant says faith alone justifies, then, does he mean men don't need grace? No, because grace is rather the efficient cause of justification insofar as it alone produces, for instance, the faith within an individual by which he is instrumentally justified. Similarly, when a Protestant says Christ alone justifies, does he mean men don't need grace or faith? Again, no, because Christ is rather the sole ground of justification, i.e. He by whom the righteousness is merited according to which God declares the believer righteous. These "solas" all refer to different functions of one event: justification.

Now, when the Protestant says faith alone justifies, but not a faith that is alone, one must distinguish between the function of the faith and the nature of the faith. The function of the faith has already been explained: it accesses men to Christ. It consummates union to Him such that the believer may be said to be in Him and He in the believer. Faith alone is how one has recourse to the ground of justification.

But what is this faith? What is the nature of this saving faith which is alone that by which we are [instrumentally] justified? Is it a mere profession? Is it simply understanding the gospel? No. It is understanding and assent to or, equivalently, belief in the gospel. Why is this important?

As was pointed out, the reason anyone understands and assents to the gospel is by grace alone, the efficient cause of faith and, in turn, justification. By God's grace one receives a new nature in regeneration which causes justificatory belief in Christ (Romans 8:7-9, 1 John 5:1). But moreover, this new nature will, subsequent to belief and justification, incline one to practice righteousness (1 John 2:29-3:9). Both saving faith and good works follow from grace (Ephesians 2:8-10). One can't produce good works without a new nature, and one can't come to Christ without a new nature. Or, at least, so says the Reformed Protestant. Expressing the Reformed motto logically is simple. For example:

1. If you have saving faith, then you will do good works.
2. You do not do good works.
3. Therefore, you do not have saving faith.

Or:

1. If one has saving faith, he will have received it immediately upon being given a new nature.
2. If one has been given a new nature, he will yield good fruit.
3. If one has saving faith, he will yield good fruit.

The main point is good works don't justify in any sense. They merely serve as indicators or evidences to men. What do they indicate to men? Whether or not one who professes to have saving faith actually has saving faith or if they are just lying. Whether or not one possesses that faith alone by which men are instrumentally justified correlates with whether or not he does the good works which follow from a faith which justifies.

It may be asked what if one does not show forth good fruit because he is backsliding. Of course, since works don't save, a temporary absence of them does not automatically mean one isn't saved. What it does mean is that another who has not seen a person's good works has no reason to think the person has saving faith. Nevertheless, a new nature "naturally" (!) yields good works, so such backsliding should not be or remain the case if one truly believes in Christ.

There is always room for nuance. If a person dies immediately after believing so that no one can have seen him do a good work, he will be saved. If I have just introduced myself to you and you identify yourself as a Christian, it may take some time for me to evaluate your profession of faith. Etc. The above syllogisms, therefore, may be restated for the practical benefit of men:

1. If you have saving faith, then you will do good works.
2. I have not seen you do good works.
3. Therefore, I have no reason to suppose you have saving faith [other than, perhaps, your own profession].

Paradox, Contradiction, and Justified Beliefs

2011-09-05T21:16:00.006-04:00

A paradox is a seeming contradiction, i.e. when one believes two statements which may superficially appear to conflict but, in the last analysis, can be shown to be compatible. A contradiction occurs when one believes two mutually exclusive statements are both true.

One might think it obvious that there must be a process one must follow in order to differentiate between paradoxes and contradictions, but in practice, laymen - and, unfortunately, "experts" too - will sometimes attempt to excuse themselves from explaining how their beliefs which at least are paradoxical are not actually contradictory. One common theological example is the tension between the doctrines of divine sovereignty and human freedom. Both are common beliefs which at least seem to conflict. Yet sometimes a pastor will, after alluding to this tension, simply encourage his flock to have faith that these are both true and trust that God has it all figured out.

The most obvious problem with this lax approach is that it gives heretics room enough to justify belief in anything. Paul might as well have said, "if Christianity is unreasonable, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain." A faith which cannot be defended is a faith not worth defending. This isn't to suggest that a Christian ought to know everything. What it does suggest is that to justifiably believe any two doctrines which appear to conflict, the Christian must at least be able to present a speculative resolution compatible with Scripture.

The "Dark Side" of Calvinism revisited

2011-08-22T01:46:00.007-04:00

George Bryson's reappearance on the blogosphere reminded me of a response I wrote a little more than a year ago to the twelfth chapter of his book The Dark Side of Calvinism. It was meant to interact with Bryson's examination of the logical relationship between divine sovereignty and so-called human freedom. Unfortunately, the blog for which I wrote the piece seems to be enduring a little bit of difficulty as of late, so I looked through email archives and found it. I deal with three objections Bryson makes against Calvinism throughout the chapter:

Objection #1: Nominal Freedom

Mr. Bryson begins the chapter by asserting that Calvinists cannot consistently “affirm freedom of choice for a lost man regarding where he will spend eternity… [due to] a seriously flawed definition of [divine] sovereignty” (page 287). The difficulty in dichotomizing freedom and sovereignty in this manner lies in the fact that the semantic domain of each term contains a multiplicity of possible meanings which, if not specified, can lead to equivocation or straw man argumentation. Hence, when Mr. Bryson substitutes an analogy of his own creation (cf. page 294) for an actual, confessional definition of the sense in which Calvinists believe man is free, it is not hard to understand why Mr. Bryson thinks the Calvinist‘s beliefs are antinomic. Section 9 of the London Baptist Confession – a confession to which James White, an exegete Mr. Bryson gives special attention in his book, adheres – includes the following account of free will:

God hath endued the will of man with that natural liberty and power of acting upon choice, that it is neither forced, nor by any necessity of nature determined to do good or evil.

One may find a similar formulation in the Westminster Confession. Now, Mr. Bryson did not sufficiently explain what would constitute a “meaningful” definition of freedom (page 294), but even if he had, given that the above repudiates, among other heresies, Manichaeism, philosophical mechanism, and, noteworthily, any intelligible notion of “monovolitionalism” (page 173), what reasonable criteria could Mr. Bryson require that would enable him to honestly deny that Calvinists can consistently believe any “meaningful” statement of human freedom? Christian monergists as far back as Augustine have elaborated on the fact that freedom, like slavery, is relational: if one is free, he is free “to do” something or free “from” something. Mr. Bryson too seems to understand that human freedom is “relative” (page 290) rather than “absolute,” “limited” rather than “autonomous” (page 313). Men make choices within a covenantal framework. We may either choose to believe and have life in Christ, or we may choose to reject Christ and be condemned. We cannot choose to reject Christ and be saved. The relativity of human freedom must be remembered when we read Mr. Bryson attempt to smuggle in his own understanding of freedom into the discussion and pass it off as historical. For example:

“In Calvinism, if man were free to accept or reject salvation, God could neither graciously give salvation nor could He be sovereign in the salvation He gives” (page 313).

“…when a Calvinist says that unregenerate man is free to reject the gospel, as they often do, they mean something very different than does the non-Calvinist Evangelical. Free to reject, according to Calvinism, actually means exactly the same thing as bound to reject. When freedom and bondage mean the same thing, they mean nothing” (page 290).

Fallen men are free to choose all kinds of depravity, insofar as their choices stem from their own nature and desires rather than a natural necessity or because their wills were “forced” (a contradiction in terms). All men without exception possess real desires, intellects, motives, feelings, &c. according to which they choose; there is more than one volitional being in existence. [This is key when Mr. Bryson will later accuse Calvinism of affording sinful men excuse from their sin on the grounds that Calvinism implies monovolitionalism. The argument “If humans were not the cause of their own free actions, then the actions would not be their actions” (page 326) does not address the qualifications of the means by which God causes men to will.] However, as Augustine notes in Enchiridion, fallen man‘s freedom “to act rightly” has been “destroyed” such that fallen man is said to be in bondage to sin rather than free from it.

Essentially, Mr. Bryson confounds freedom with necessity because he is equivocating on the meaning of freedom. It is true that a consistent Calvinist should believe God has “causally determined” man‘s will (page 295), since God has causally determined man‘s desires according to which he wills. It is therefore true that “a consistent Calvinist could and should also be able to say that even the non-Calvinist misunderstanding of the biblical doctrines of salvation and damnation and the non-Calvinists‘ rejection of Calvinism are also determined and decreed by God,” although it is obviously not true, as Mr. Bryson would wish it to be, that “no Calvinist suggests such an interpretation for the potter and the clay” (page 289). But I ask: so what? That merely proves Calvinism is incompatible with a definition of freedom which entails a capacity to choose apart from extrinsic antecedent causation. That‘s not how Calvinist‘s have defined human freedom, and I would think that those Calvinists which Mr. Bryson cited who distinguish between “free will” and “free agency” are simply trying to distance their own, Reformed stances from Mr. Bryson‘s.

Further, if Mr. Bryson denies that man can be free if he, by his nature, acts necessarily, it is strange to think that he affirms that God is not only relatively free, but He is also “absolutely free” (page 287). After all, we know that God cannot lie or deny Himself. It is not in God’s nature to sin. God is, then, as Mr. Bryson might say, “bound” to not-sin. His nature necessarily dictates His actions. If Mr. Bryson’s charges against Calvinism carry any weight, how then can God be “meaningfully” free? Is God “meaningfully” free because He is not limited by others? But this is a quantitative difference in freedom, not a qualitative one – our nature can be affected by God, whereas His is immutable, but in both cases the persons still act according to their respective natures. Or is God “meaningfully” free because His actions are not determined? This would constitute a qualitative difference, and yet I would object that, as John Piper has effectively argued in his exegesis of Romans 9:1-23, “the righteousness of God must be his unswerving commitment always to preserve the honor of his name and display his glory.” For God to act in a manner which would not bring Himself maximal glory, then, would constitute a contravention of the divine nature, and since God cannot deny Himself, God’s actions too are determined [by His own, immutable nature]. Mr. Bryson almost seems to suggest this himself when he correctly writes:

“God’s holiness ensures that all of His acts and interactions will be holy. Hypothetically, if we could get out in front of God’s decrees, knowing what we know about God from Scripture, we could predict with absolute accuracy that all of God’s decrees or sovereign determinations would be in accord with His absolute holiness” (page 307).

In any case, if the reader is uncomfortable with the thought that God does not act arbitrarily, let him at least note that Mr. Bryson’s accusation – that a “consistent Calvinist” cannot affirm men are free to choose their eternal destinies – is true only if one anachronistically applies his own, non-Reformed, non-confessional understanding of free will to Calvinists.

Objection #2: Epistemic Repercussions of Determinism

Mr. Bryson makes several miscellaneous arguments throughout his twelfth chapter which are only given mention in passing but, since all of them are or should be directed at the doctrine of divine determinism (not fatalism), are relevant nonetheless. Prefatorily, I think this is an appropriate time to explain a little more about my own beliefs.

I unhesitatingly believe God is the ultimate cause of all things because Scripture affirms God cause all things [according to His good pleasure] (cf. Job 23:13-14; Psalm 115:3, 135:6; Isaiah 46:10-11; Lamentations 3:38; Daniel 4:35; Ephesians 1:11). He is active in effecting that which He desires, and everything that occurs is so according to His desire. While God can use instrumentalities or “second causes” to achieve His purposes as well as direct efficiency, the ultimate or first cause of all things stems from God’s direct, efficient, and determinative purpose. The extent of God’s proactive determination is borne out in specific cases as well as general testimony (cf. Deuteronomy 2:30; 1 Kings 22:19-23; Psalm 105:25; Isaiah 10:5-15, 19:17; John 12:37-40; Acts 2:23, 4:27-28). Moreover, as the reader may discern for himself, these passages indicate God causes wickedness as well as moral peace. Isaiah explicitly corroborates this in Isaiah 45:7, a passage in which Gordon Clark pointed out in his “Predestination” that the Hebrew word for “calamity” denotes or is synonymous with “[moral] wickedness” approximately 50 times in the Old Testament (e.g. Genesis 6:5). This fits the juxtaposition between peace and calamity nicely, as God obviously creates moral well-being as well as natural (Romans 8:28-39).

In his entire book, the only passage of these that Mr. Bryson references in Ephesians 1:11, and even in that case he does not think it important to note that it reads God works out all things according to the counsel of His will and good pleasure. Mr. Bryson does not (in this chapter, at least) biblically support his contention that God merely allows human to “act freely” – by which he means “choose apart from extrinsic antecedent causation” – although he agrees with Norman Geisler that such is biblical. He does mention that “When the Bible uses the word predestination, it is always with regard to the future of a believer” (page 320), but surely Mr. Bryson wouldn’t suggest that where a word is not found, its concept also cannot be found (e.g. the Trinity). He also does not explain, as I have (and am about to again), why a holy God would cause or allow sin.

There is still more to be said in favor of the idea God has actively caused all things. It was mentioned that all of God’s actions stem from His desire to manifest His glory (Ephesians 3:8-10, 20-21, Romans 9:23). Romans 9:15 functions as an argument for the righteousness of God because God’s unconditioned distribution of mercy and compassion manifest His glory, honor, and name (cf. Exodus 33:18-19). Without sin, we could never stand in awe of the multiplicity of His excellences, including His power (cf. Romans 9:11-17; Exodus 33:15-20), compassion, love, and wrath (cf. Romans 9:19-23). All things have been created so that, through the salvation of the church, the heavenly powers might understand that wisdom of God which is deserving of praise and glory (Ephesians 3). There is no redemption where there is no sin. In order to maximally manifest His glory, men must sin, providing the occasion by which God can fully reveal Himself to His people. Here, however, we are beginning to turn to the reason God has ultimately caused all things and not the proof.

One final, related evidence bears mentioning: as predestination involves intention, and as the success of one’s intention is limited to one’s extent of knowledge, predestination is possible only to the extent that God knows His intentions can be fulfilled and that the particulars relevant to that which He is predestining will not deviate from His plan. That God eternally knows that the purposes of His decrees – predicated on His good pleasure – will be effected (Isaiah 46:10-11) also implies He must know that the means by which His decrees come to fruition will not thwart His decrees (Isaiah 14:24-27; Romans 9:19); if God did not know all things eternally – proximate means as well respective ends – He would have no basis upon which to validly claim that means which He did not know could not possibly thwart His decrees. Mr. Bryson agrees that God is omniscient, but grounds God’s omniscience in passive allowance of freely chosen sinful events as opposed to God’s efficacious, sovereign will (page 301). What Mr. Bryson does not explain is how God possesses knowledge of what humans will “freely” choose [apart from extrinsic antecedent causation] in the first place.

This is a critical problem for those who believe God “allows” rather than “causes.” For God to know a given proposition is true apart from His own determination means His knowledge would be contingent on contingencies: in this instance, the wills of His creatures. Because we as creatures are temporal, for God’s knowledge to be contingent on our “free will” would deny His eternal omniscience. It is unfortunate that Mr. Bryson – who agrees that God’s sovereignty is nothing if not His “right… to do as He wishes (Psalm 50:1; Isaiah 40:15; 1 Tim. 6:15) with His creation. This implies that there is no external influence upon Him and that He also has the ability to exercise His power and control according to His will” (page 307) – [partially] predicates God’s knowledge on human freedom rather than [completely on] His sovereignty. Mr. Bryson obviously does not intend to deny God’s eternal omniscience, but his position can yield no other conclusion. God’s determination of all things is the only position consistent with His eternal omniscience, so it must be true.

Finally, I do not find any of this to be paradoxical to the definitions of human freedom expressed by Augustine and the aforementioned Confessions or to the fact that God commands what He does not will. As a holy God, He cannot demand anything less than perfection. As a righteous God, He cannot cause anything less than that which will maximally manifest His glory. There is no conflict or tension in these statements. Against these plain proofs and clear harmonies, however, Mr. Bryson has argued that divine determinism leads to an epistemologically untenable position. Briefly examining each of his short arguments in turn:

“Assuming Calvinism is true, how can man (even an Arminian man) do anything to offend God, or please Him for that matter, that God did not sovereignly predestine that he would and should do?” (page 288)

The question “is everything as it ought to be?” lacks specificity. “Ought” implies responsibility, and while it may be jumping the gun to talk about what responsibility presupposes, all Christians should at least agree that it presupposes one to whom one is responsible. Men are responsible to God. God is responsible to Himself (Hebrews 6:13). If the question, then, is “is sinful man as he ought to be with respect to the laws of His sovereign?” the answer is unequivocally “no.” On the other hand, if the question is “ought God to have effected this reality?” the answer is “yes,” as Mr. Bryson can contend – but not substantiate, since one can only know counter-factuals via divine revelation – that a counter-factual world would more greatly manifest God’s glory. Depending on the emphasis of the [currently equivocally worded] question, the answer will vary.

“If Calvinism’s view of God’s sovereignty is true, then every thought (correct or in error), every feeling (good or bad), and every statement (either for or against Calvinism) have been sovereignly determined and decreed by God. If Calvinism’s view of God’s sovereignty is true, we could never actually know it, test it, or argue its merits—we could only “go through the motions” that look like real thinking and arguing but which are actually merely the sovereignly determined and decreed acts or thoughts of God working themselves in, through, and out of us” (page 289).

“To even engage in a discussion about free will presumes that a person is free to actually have such a discussion.” (page 323)

Interestingly, William Lane Craig made a similar argument in his recent diatribe against Calvinism. Both his and Mr. Bryson’s arguments are dubious, however. There is simply no apparent reason that a man who has been caused to believe a given proposition cannot evaluate whether or not his belief is sound. The origin of the desires according to which one chooses is, at worst, irrelevant to the question of whether or not one has actually followed the logical principles according to which one may know that his belief is justified and shows, at best, that God is as unconditionally sovereign in His dispensation of justified knowledge as He is in all other matters. Of course, this also has implications as to whether or not evil can be “morally…traced to God” (page 300), but I will deal with that next section.

Objection #3: Responsibility

On page 303, Mr. Bryson uses “blame[worthy]” and “guilty” as interchangeable words for “responsible” in the context of having caused immorality. The final objection Mr. Bryson consistently purports throughout this chapter is that if divine determinism is true, humans are exonerated from any immoral behavior, and God is automatically responsible for it:

“Man becomes excused from moral culpability by any view that sees man only doing what God makes him do...” (page 292).

“If God only knows what will happen in the future because He causes the future to occur by His irresistible decree, it would make God the primary and morally responsible cause of everything bad, wrong, and wicked…” (page 302).

Why must it be that “…in the primary and morally responsible sense, a consistent Calvinism teaches that God causes everything, including sin and the refusal of some men to embrace Calvinism” (page 288)? Mr. Bryson is clear: because divine determinism is incompatible with his (!) definition of human freedom. If God ultimately causes all things rather than ultimately allows them, that which responsibility presupposes is shifted from man to God; equivalently, Mr. Bryson believes one must be the ultimate cause of his own actions in order to be responsible for them:

“It is the very freedom that our sovereign God gives us and for which He will hold us accountable that allows us to appreciate and appropriately respond to God’s sovereignty” (page 327).

“Moral acts are not uncaused or caused by someone else. Rather, they are caused by oneself” (page 324).

“Unless we recognize that man, even fallen and spiritually dead man, possesses and retains something that allows him to make decisions which are really his decisions and not God’s (or causally determined by God in the Calvinist sense), then God by definition is morally responsible for all of the ungodly conduct of ungodly men” (page 322).

Mr. Bryson’s statements are neither persuasive nor sound. We must be “free” by definition? By whose definition and for what reason? Why does Mr. Bryson believe responsibility presuppose the ability to choose apart from extrinsic causation? It is remarkable throughout this whole chapter, Mr. Bryson really only has one argument that this must be the case. On page 316, Mr. Bryson has to employ another analogy. The situation: a writer directs a screenplay in which the actor commits a crime. The audience and writer, says Mr. Bryson, would, if the crime was real, attribute the crime to the ultimate cause of the screenplay (the writer) rather than the [immediate] actor in it. This is apparently supposed to be analogous to what the case would be if God (the writer) directed (ultimately caused) men (the immediate cause) to commit a crime (sin). Think about this for a moment. Mr. Bryson’s whole argument for the idea men are responsible only if they are “free” (by his definition) rests on the idea that Mr. Bryson thinks his illustration is analogous to Calvinistic reality (it is not, since the writer is not the sovereign over his audience and actors), that the writer and audience would hold the writer responsible if the crime were real (it would be humorous if Mr. Bryson had polling data to substantiate this), and that the opinions of the writer and the audience matter (no reason is given for this). Remarkable.

He does not stop at one bad analogy, however. As one might expect, he makes a token reference to the “robot/puppet” argument, the emotional-pleading that men are “mere puppets controlled by divine strings” (page 317) if God causes them to will whatsoever He pleases. In rejoinder, Scripture teaches that men, in relation to God, are mere pots, axes, and other instruments God uses as He pleases. What besides emotion could be the underlying objection laced in this analogy? Furthermore, it too breaks down in comparison to Calvinism. God is much more sovereign over mankind than a puppeteer is over his puppet. God controls everything we do, whereas a puppeteer is confined by strings and joints. God made us as we are (Romans 9:18-23). Finally, puppets do not have minds, wills, emotions, intellects, feelings, &c. Again, Calvinists are quick to point out that men are not “forced” to will; that is a contradiction in terms. Rather, insofar as man always chooses in accordance with his most strongest desire, and insofar as God determines our desires (directly or indirectly), our will is determined and yet voluntary. It is certainly we who choose, feel, think, and act – and yet it is all in accordance with God’s determinative purpose. Hence, when Mr. Bryson writes:

“…there is something about those who are responsible that makes them responsible. That something God sovereignly included or predestined for man, we call volition” (page 320-321).

I agree. For one to be held responsible for choices, they must be his choices. I only believe God is the author of good and sin in the same sense He is said to be the author of life, Scripture, and faith. God ultimately caused and sustains each, but He is not the immediate cause of each. Men live, men wrote Scripture, and men have faith. I furthermore agree with Mr. Bryson that:

“The bad things… that a man does cannot be traced back to God, and do not have a relationship to God the way we can trace good things to God” (page 304).

“It cannot be overemphasized that some things can legitimately be traced to immoral beings in a way they cannot be traced to God. God is not thereby less than in control of all things. Control of all things is not the issue. Cause is the issue” (page 322).

Cause is the issue, but not in the sense Mr. Bryson imagines. God causes all things, but the means by which He causes all things varies according to what is being caused. God may directly effect our desires in, say, regeneration, but God never tempts (James 1:13). As was noted earlier, God can use secondary causes (like evil spirits) to achieve His purposes. In order to substantiate the claim that causing evil spirits or the like to tempt, it must be demonstrated that such contradicts God’s own nature. In anticipation of such an attempt, I would note that trying to analogize God’s own actions to man’s actions (as Mr. Bryson did in his “writer” illustration) is fallacious. For example: God can’t murder, because no man is innocent in His sight; God can’t steal, because He owns all. There is no higher law than God, and as I have already shown that causing sin functions as a means by which God’s glory is more greatly manifested, it remains to those opposed to provide positive evidence to corroborate their accusations that God is morally responsible (guilty, blameworthy) if He causes sin.

As one last observation, I earlier alluded to the idea that responsibility implies one to whom one is responsible. Hence, not only does responsibility not presuppose Mr. Bryson’s conception freedom, but responsibility also must actually presuppose God’s sovereignty. I hope Mr. Bryson sees this point. While there is no self-evident reason that one who has broken a law (sinned: 1 John 3:4) is excused from law-breaking because he was unable to do otherwise, one must obviously be sovereign to subordinate another to a law which, if broken, holds him responsible to the law-maker (God). This is clearly seen in Romans 9. The fact that we are subject to God’s law should not be surprising, for the fact that He made us for His own ends and glory functions as the very means by which Paul substantiates his claim that God is sovereign and man is responsible.

Canon Determination

2011-08-17T12:54:00.003-04:00

John C. Peckham has written what I found to be an interesting article on whether God's people determine or recognize the scope of divine revelation. Some of what is posted under point 4 will tie in with a post I have planned to write soon on epistemic limitations.

The Philosophy of Gordon Clark - Response from a Pragmatist

2011-07-30T00:52:00.000-04:00

A few months ago, I posted an essay to my blog which I had submitted as a research paper in my Theories of Knowledge class. My professor, a Ph.D from UMich who throughout the semester had proudly stated he was an atheist, a pragmatist, and empiricistic, was, shall we say, less than enthusiastic upon reading my rough draft. Bottom line: after reading it, he suggested I write on a different topic or accept a C-. I chose the former (see excerpts here, here, and here), and did well in the class.

However, he did take the time to reply to the rough draft on Gordon Clark's philosophy... kind of. In addition to a few general comments in an email, he wrote some questions and comments in the margins of my rough draft - 17 in total. I thought about re-writing the original submission with answers and rebuttals to his comments, but decided against it for reasons which may become apparent after I post them. The sentence in the essay to which he responded is italicized, the professor's comment is in block quotes, and my response is in normal text.

1. Clark successfully developed a philosophical system commonly referred to as Scripturalism, the central tenet of which may be said to be that the Protestant canon comprises the sole, extant source of knowledge available to man.

Of all knowledge?? Seems implausible.

It will become clear that this comment was made before the professor read the rest of the paper. See point 9.

2. The demonstration of a proposition, such as any theorem in geometry, is completed only when it is referred to the axioms. If the axioms in turn required demonstration, the demonstration of the proposition with which we began would remain incomplete.

This is foundationalism. See general comment in e-mail.

In the email to which he refers, my professor was apparently under the assumption the class accepted everything he taught as fact and that I therefore must simply have forgotten his lecture points. In this case, he is referring to class time in which he spent discussing foundationalism as a remnant of the 17th century rationalists in contrast to the coherentism of Quine and other pragmatists. Actually, I forwarded a nuanced view of foundationalism throughout the essay (see also here).

3. Clark, rather than appealing to an indubitably self-evident postulate as do some rationalists, held that one could judge them by gauging the consistency amongst the propositions pertaining to the respectively educed systems.

This is vague, but if I understand it, (maybe I don’t), it says that one can choose a unique principle based on thh consistency of “theorems” derive in systems based on the principle. This is false—disprovable by attention to logical systems. Maybe he means something else.

I really don’t have any idea what he is talking about here. My point was twofold: 1) a philosophical system contains a first principle and theorems which are deduced from that first principle; 2) a way in which one can gauge the justifiability of a first principle is by studying whether or not its respectively derived theorems contradict each other. If so, then by a reduction ad absurdum, the first principle is falsified; it leads to a self-defeating system. If not, then a criterion of a justifiable first principle is satisfied.

4. …if one system can provide plausible solutions to many problems while another leaves too many questions unanswered, if one system tends less to skepticism and gives more meaning to life, if one worldview is consistent while others are self-contradictory, who can deny us, since we must choose, the right to choose the more promising first principle?

This seems to refer to “completeness”—which would be a third, independent principle, separate from foundationalism and coherentism.

This is true. A philosophical system must deal with epistemological issues.

5. …there is a theory that the ultimate test of truth is coherence, and on this theory it would be impossible to have two self-consistent, mutually contradictory philosophies… One might hold that all other theories of truth lead to skepticism.

Note that this claim is directly denied by Russell in our reading by him on truth.

My professor missed the point of Clark’s argument, which was that if Russell’s hypothesis were true, skepticism would be the result. Since skepticism is false, there cannot be two such systems.

6. Appearances to the contrary would simply evidence insufficient acquaintance with the relevant intricacies of the systems in question.

Claims like this are not falsifiable.

Of course they are. The professor could disprove Clark’s aforementioned theory upon which this conclusion is based by doing what Russell did not do: show two “self-consistent, mutually contradictory philosophies.”

7. …common belief provides a point of contact whereby two worldviews may apagogically interact but belies the fact that whichever first principle yields contradictories or insufficient epistemic explanatory power is a worldview which must be unsound.

Is this yet a FOURTH criterion?

No. Insufficient explanatory power is simply another way of stating that epistemology requires answers to certain questions which, if left unaddressed, results in skepticism. See point 4.

8. Clark may be most well-known for his criticisms of the epistemological proposals of secular philosophers. Because it seems he considered the majority of religious philosophy to implicitly rely on similar constructions and because it follows that if one’s epistemology is disproved then his [religious] beliefs are correlatively disproved – at least in that they cannot be justified – Clark’s epistemological assessments can be broadly categorized as applying to one of the following: irrationalism, empiricism, rationalism, and dogmatism (i.e. Scripturalism).

This point is unclear to me.

Clark believed irrationalism, empiricism, and rationalism represent the most popular alternatives to his own philosophy, so he examined these philosophies. He also believed that most religious persons hold to [a variation of] one of these alternatives.

9. The skeptics call propositions false, doubtful, probable, and plausible. Their basic principle, however, does not in consistency permit them to use any of these terms. A false proposition is one opposite to the truth… A doubtful proposition is one that might possibly be true; a probable or plausible proposition resembles or approximates the truth. But it is impossible to apply these terms without knowing the truth by which they are determined.

I don’t get this argument. Worse, it just seems arbitrary to argue that any philosophy that does not produce certainty is anti-philosophy. This is an example of winning an argument by tendentious definition.

Is my professor certain that this is an example of winning an argument by tendentious definition? No. Is my professor certain it is arbitrary to claim that those who are “epistemologically set against the idea knowledge can be certain… are… anti-philosophy”? No. Does my professor show any indication that he is making Clark’s point for him? No.

Clark is trying to show why knowledge connotes certainty, contrary to pragmatists such as my professor. Recall that in the first point, my professor stated Scripturalism “seems implausible” Note here that he says Clark’s argument “seems arbitrary.” The reason why pragmatists have to weakly qualify their insinuations is because if they were to actually argue that 1) Scripturalism is implausible or 2) it is arbitrary to claim truth and knowledge connote certainty would 3) be to concede Clark’s argument. That they can’t argue for either of these contentions, then, makes it all the more ironic that my professor would say Clark’s arguments are arbitrary.

10. Depending on the qualifications made by a given empiricist, these frictions could be multiplied, and even if several are resolved by admitting empiricism is not compatible with them (e.g. induction; ethics), close examination of the majority portend the truth of Clark’s illation.

You would do better to concentrate on a few arguments and evaluate one or two of them rather than listing many arguments without comment.

Although I did, in fact, provide three bullet points in which I did just that, this suggestion is fair enough. However, see comment 16.

11. By observing what Clark considered to be the principal faults common to each of these philosophers, it may then be possible to conclude on what basis Clark rejected rationalism in toto.

Are there no epistemological problems with “revelation” as a method? If not, I guess I can believe anything as long as I dreamed it.

Even if we overlook the fact this doesn’t address Clark’s assessment of rationalism, this comment is still curious. Earlier, my professor incredulously wondered at the number of requirements Clark believed must be met in order for belief in a given philosophy to be considered justified. Now he completely ignores them by randomly likening Clark’s philosophy to dreaming.

Furthermore, if one cannot be certain as to what is true, then why would my professor have a problem with believing something on the basis of a dream? Is there a better method? Does he know this with certainty?

12. Hegel held that the definition of a concept entails knowledge of its relationship to all other concepts. For instance, the meaning of “cat” includes the idea that it is “not-a-dog,” “not-a-tree,” etc. Clark noted the fatal flaw of this philosophy: “…we cannot know one relationship without knowing all. Obviously we do not know all. Therefore we know nothing.” Hegelianism, therefore, cannot be accepted.

But why not accept that we have only partial knowledge and embrace fallibilism?

We can accept the fact we have partial knowledge, so long as this knowledge comes from one who is omniscient. Fallibilism, on the other hand, is self-defeating, as I noted in my revised essay:

//Fallibilism, the belief that certainty is impossible, ought to be rejected, for the claim is itself either certain or uncertain: if the former, fallibilism is self-contradictory, and if the latter, it can be ignored as an arbitrary approximation of an ironically non-existent standard (certainty). One can be certain what he believes is true, although one’s means of confirmation of such will depend upon whether or not a given proposition believed is a first principle or something which supposedly hinges on a first principle.//

13. Plato, on the other hand, is perhaps most famous for his theory of Ideas, something Clark thought must, in some form or another, be affirmed in order to avoid nominalism. According to this theory, the possibility of classifications or genera stem from the fact there is an archetypal world of Ideas after which the world in which we live is.

Note that this is the position held by Agassi, discussed at length in The Met Club, and for two class periods. Its as if you haven’t taken the course...

Actually, we did not discuss this in class. Classification in the context of Plato has to do with whether or not the concept of classification is objective. Classification in the context of Agassi (what we discussed in class) has to do with the legitimacy of a teleological scientific method.

14. Legitimate knowledge presupposes an eternally omniscient being, and any epistemic axiom must account for that or be subject to this.

What justifies this claim? It seems completely arbitrary to me.

Apparently, my professor skipped the prior sentences in the paragraph which were meant to support this as a conclusion:

//…to assert one knows a proposition is true without knowing whether or not another proposition is true begs the question. What if the truth of the former hinges on the truth or falsity of the latter? For man to justifiably know even one proposition, then, one must either know all propositions or rely on one who does – one whose knowledge must be eternal, comprehensive, and intuitive.//

15. The propositions contained in the Bible collectively form the content of what one is able to, at present, tenably know. Distinguishable from this is the means of knowledge, the historical process by which one gains access to Scriptural propositions.

This is simply an argument from authority. Cf. Peirce and his refutation of these arguments.

Well, It is an appeal to an authority, but it’s an appeal with reasons for believing that what the alleged authority says is true. Again, note the contrast in tone in my professor’s comments towards the end of the paper with his comments in the beginning. Here the professor dismisses my arguments without further ado even while I am explaining how exactly these contentions made by Clark satisfy the epistemological criteria for a justified philosophy.

16. Clark submitted that anthropological considerations and linguistics explain the reason man is able to understand God’s thought.

I’m not sure what anthropology Clark read, but these claims are directly contradictory to the actual findings of anthropologists who have found no universal/a priori truths believed by all cultures.

Note that my professor doesn’t explain the epistemological means by which these anthropologists arrived at said findings. I’m going to guess it was by the very empirical means I critiqued earlier in my paper which was essentially ignored (see point 10).

17. Clark’s theodicy is actually an assertion of what must be the case as much as it is a defense of what is the case.

He makes this claim despite the apparent fact that sinning was necessary for God’s plan to work? Come on. Don’t be so gullible.

What does my professor mean by "despite"? He correctly paraphrases my point but seems to think it contradicts the idea Clark's theodicy is as much an assertion of what must be the case – i.e. that people sin, since it is necessary for God’s plan to work – as it is a defense of what is the case. I can’t help laughing a little at his attempt to shame me out of Christianity, though.

Common Grace Revisited

2011-07-29T06:45:00.003-04:00

I've written before that I disagree with common grace (link). The more I think about it, the more I believe on which side of the fence one sits is tied to the way in which one views God's eternal decree.

As a supralapsarian, for example, I believe God's eternal decree is teleologically arranged. When we ask "why did God ordain such and such," there might be a proximate reason. But if we keep asking the same question regarding these proximate reasons, we will ultimately discover God ordains all things so that His glory will be maximally manifested. That is God's ultimate purpose in all things, and that is why it is the chronological end of all things. The supralapsarian thereby connects the eternal decree of God with the historic execution of the decree by an inverse correlation: the foremost purpose of God is what will be [continuously] manifested last in time; that which occurs first in time (creation), however, is that which is last in the teleological arrangement of God's decrees. In other words: why did God create? Ultimately, so that He could manifest His glory. On the other hand, there is nothing God does in time to which, upon asking why God has done such, it may be answered "so that He could create."

So how does this relate to the issue of common grace? Because what occurs in time has to be viewed in correlation with God's eternal decree. When it is asked if reprobates can receive grace, the answer has to be no. Why? Because we must remember that what occurs earlier in our lives has to be measured against the fact that the purpose of such was so that what occurs later in our lives will come about according to God's eternal, teleological decree. In the case of the reprobate, what occurs early in his life occurs for a reason, and that reason is, ultimately, that he will continuously reject God unto damnation. When viewed in this light, it is evident that what occurs relatively early in the life of the reprobate cannot be a result of divine grace. Any and all occurrences in the life of the reprobate are ultimately to the ends of condemnation and damnation. In what way, then, can any occurrence be said to be an evidence of divine favor? Only when one arbitrarily abstracts an occurrence its ultimate, divinely decreed end can it be so considered.

Vos on the Development of the Noachian Epoch

2011-07-16T20:55:00.008-04:00

A few posts ago, I noted a few different organizing principles one might use when studying Scripture. Because I have been reading Vos' Biblical Theology, that approach has recently been at the forefront of my mind. Vos makes some insightful points on the big picture of Genesis 4:1-6:7 which prompted me to think about and make connections in redemptive history in a way that I would probably not have thought to do had I, like I am often inclined to do, broken down the passage analytically. Here is what Vos has to say:

Two features characterize the revelation of [the development of the Noachian] period. In the first place, its significance lies not in the sphere of redemption, but in the sphere of the natural development of the race, although it has ultimately an important bearing on the subsequent progress of redemption. Secondly, revelation here bears on the whole a negative rather than positive character. It contents itself with bestowing a minimum of grace. A minimum could not be avoided either in the sphere of nature or of redemption, because in the former sphere, without at least some degree of divine interposition, collapse of the world-fabric would have resulted, and in the latter the continuity of fulfilment of the promise [cf. Genesis 3:15] would have been broken off, had special grace been entirely withdrawn. These two features find their explanation in the purpose of the period in general. It was intended to bring out the consequences of sin when left so far as possible to itself. Had God permitted grace freely to flow out into the world and to gather great strength within a short period, then the true nature and consequences of sin would have been very imperfectly disclosed. Man would have ascribed to his own relative goodness what was in reality a product of the grace of God. Hence, before the work of redemption is further carried out, the downward tendency of sin is clearly illustrated, in order that subsequently in the light of this downgrade movement the true divine cause of the upward course of redemption might be appreciated. This constitutes the indirect bearing of the period under review on redemption.

...We have here a story of rapid degeneration, so guided by God as to bring out the inherent tendency of sin to lead to ruin, and its power to corrupt and debase whatever of good might still develop. So far as this circle of humanity is concerned, the facts bear out the interpretation above put upon the period. (pgs. 45-46)

Vos proceeds to specify the points in the narrative which support his thesis that, aside from the parenthetical 4:25-5:32 - which is important insofar as it shows the promise of Genesis 3:15 has not been forgotten - the period immediately following the exile from Eden is designed to show the full effects of sin. In short, generations became increasingly utterly depraved from Cain to Lamech and from Lamech to mankind in general:

In the strongest terms the extreme wickedness reached at the end of the [Noachian] period is described. The points brought out are firstly: the intensity and extent of evil ('great in the earth'); secondly: its inwardness ('every imagination of the thoughts of his heart'); thirdly: the absoluteness of the sway of evil excluding everything good ('only evil'); fourthly: the habitual, continuous working of evil ('all the day'). The same judgment or irremediable wickedness is even more emphatically affirmed in the words: 'It repented Jehovah that He had made man on the earth, and it grieved Him at His heart.' In anthropomorphic fashion this expresses the idea that the development of mankind frustrated the end for which God had placed man on the earth. (pgs. 50-51)

This reminded me that the pre-Noahic moral declension in which there existed a vastly outnumbered elect remnant typifies the eschatological tribulation period just prior to Christ's second coming (cf. Matthew 24:21-22, 37-44; Luke 17:26-37; 2 Peter 3:5-7, 10-13). It's one thing to look at those New Testament passages and see that fact stated, but to actually think about it in terms similar to how Vos put it provides the perspective I suspect Jesus and Peter meant for their audiences. In other words, it's one thing to read Scripture, it's another to study it. And given the various methods by which Scripture can be studied, I'm realizing how much more I have to learn.

Justification and Union with Christ

2011-07-11T20:03:00.006-04:00

This article, particularly section III-C, is one of the more enlightening articles I've read in recent memory on the subject of justification (written by a non-Calvinist, no less!). From what I've read, the relevance of a believer's union with Christ to justification is relatively under-emphasized. Understanding union to be the means by which Christ is able to act on our behalf as penal substitute and righteous representative - and hence, that union with Christ is a precondition for justification - is, I think, a powerful rebuttal to a vogue argument in Roman Catholic circles; viz. the Protestant view of justification implies nominalism. From the article:

The meaning of [justification] is clearly forensic. But the deeper question remains: is that forensic verdict an accurate and true assessment of the believer when united to Christ, or is it a nominal and putative designation of a recategorization within God’s mind alone? We are joined to Christ to the extent that we gain His identity in the eyes of justice. In that sense, the infused identity does make us subjectively righteous (when the subject is the whole man, consisting of both the man and Christ in union), but only insofar as we are joined to Christ and it is His righteousness–already accomplished in His human life–that is the only righteousness in view. However, when we are joined to Christ, we are not joined to the extent that either is lost in the other. The union is sufficient to make us one with Christ in the eyes of justice, but the righteousness that is now ours remains the righteousness that He lived and not any righteousness that we live out or accomplish–in that sense it is still an alien righteousness. This infused identity is the substance and reality which our prior justification had in view.

We can say we have been crucified with Christ, buried with Christ, and raised with Christ (Romans 6:1-11) when in us is the Spirit of Christ who unites us to Him (Romans 8:9-11). This is indeed an "infused identity" - we are, inherently and intrinsically, new creatures in Christ.

Obviously, this is not to suggest the ground of our justification is merited by anything we have accomplished, nor is it correct to speak of the basis of justification as infused righteousness. These are antithetical to the gospel. Rather, our union with Christ or infused identity is what makes justification compatible with realism, as the imputation (legal charge) of the righteousness merited by Christ to our account and the non-imputation of our sin due the penalty Christ paid for us is made possible by the fact we are in Christ and He in us. This union is real, not merely forensic. The Father therefore justifies believers who are ungodly in themselves yet - due to their union with Christ - righteous in Christ. Such justification is not a "legal fiction."

A few citations of Turretin as Reformed precedent for this view will be a fitting close:

...by our legal and mystical union, [Christ] becomes one with us, and we one with him. Hence he may justly take upon him our sin and sorrows, and impart to us his righteousness and blessings. So there is no abrogation of the law, no derogation from its claims; as what we owed is transferred to the account of Christ, to be paid by him.

...when the sin of another is said to be imputed to any one, it is not to be understood that the sin is, purely and in every sense, foreign to him but that, by some means, it pertains to him to whom it is said to be imputed; if not strictly his own, individually and personally, then (communiter) conjointly, on account of community between him and its proper author. For there can be no imputation of the sin of another, unless it is based upon some special union of the one with the other.

Esther and Organizing Principles

2011-06-14T20:41:00.010-04:00

Esther is unique in that it is the only canonical book which does not explicitly mention God. The author's silence regarding God's involvement in the story is perhaps a suitably ironic play on the importance of Esther's hidden nationality. Regardless, there are many interesting points which can be drawn from this.

How should a pastor preach on Esther, and what implications does the answer to this question have to preaching in general? Some pastors I have listened to take the "commentary" approach to Scripture: they select a few chapters or verses for the sermon, examine those verses alone - perhaps recalling a few points made in last week's sermon - make a few practical applications, and then pick up next week's sermon at the point in the book at which the sermon finished. Not that there's anything necessarily wrong with this, but if one were to apply this to Esther, God wouldn't be mentioned in the church for several months.

Then there are canonical implications, of course. The reason it wouldn't be anachronistic for a pastor to mention God in a sermon on Esther is because the pastor recognizes Esther is God-breathed. God has a purpose for having revealed what He did, and that we have a canon from which we can draw universal truths about God as a recourse to discovering in what way God was involved in the events specifically recorded in Esther bespeaks of the success of biblical and systematic theologies as organizing principles of Scripture.

To take a biblical theological approach, for example, one might compare and contrast Queen Vashti and Esther to each other and, respectively, to cursed woman and ideal woman (cf. Genesis 1-3; cf. James Hamilton Jr. in God's Glory in Salvation Through Judgment, pgs. 321-322). There are also overt linguistic and thematic parallels between the Esther and Joseph narratives. Here are the few I found in my study:

Esther 1:3, 5, 9, 2:18, 5:4, 8, 9:17ff.; Genesis 40:20, 43:16ff. (feast motif)

Esther 1:12, 2:3, 21-23, 4:4-5, 6:2, 14, 7:9; Genesis 40:1ff., 44:4-5 (chamberlains are integral to the protagonist's rise to prominence)

Esther 1:12, 19-21, 7:7; Genesis 39:19-20 (ruler's burning anger leads to judgment)

Esther 2:3-4, 8-9; Genesis 41:34-37 (the ruler is pleased to appoint commissioners to do his bidding which in turn leads to the salvation of God's people by the promotion of the central figure of the narrative)

Esther 2:9, 9:19-22; Genesis 43:34 (generous portions)

Esther 2:12; Genesis 50:3 (fulfilled days)

Esther 2:21-23, 7:10; Genesis 40:22 (hanging as a pivotal feature in the narrative)

Esther 3:4; Genesis 39:10 (day after day refusal to listen)

Esther 3:10, 8:2; Genesis 41:42 (symbolism of the signet ring)

Esther 4:1, 3; Genesis 37:34 (sackcloth and mourning)

Esther 4:14; Genesis 45:5-7 (the reason the central figure was put in position of power is revealed)

Esther 4:16; Genesis 43:14 (if I [perish/am bereaved], I [perish/am bereaved])

Esther 5:2; Genesis 39:4, 21 (favor obtained)

Esther 6:1ff.; Genesis 41:1ff. (turning point revolves around the ruler's restlessness)

Esther 6:7-11, 8:15; Genesis 41:42-43 (robes, linen, gold, and a signet ring as kingly reward for salvific service)

Esther 6:14-7:10; Genesis 43:15ff. (guests escorted to the feast beginning the denouement)

Esther 7:8; Genesis 39:14 (household assault suspected)

Esther 8:6; Genesis 44:34 (for how can I see the [destruction of my kindred/evil that shall come upon my father])

Esther 9:4, 10:2-3; Genesis 41:40-43 (protagonist becomes second in command)

Esther 9:16ff.; Genesis 41:1ff., 47:30, 50:10 (allusions to Sabbatical rest)

What can be inferred? In both instances, God orchestrated events to display His power. In the Joseph narrative, Joseph is left to die in a pit, was sold into slavery, becomes successful as an officer's hand only to be thrown into jail; in Esther, the Jews were collectively decreed to be exterminated in the name of the very king whom Mordecai, a Jew, saved. Yet it was only by putting His divinely appointed vessels at such lows that God could demonstrate the extent and profundity of His sovereignty in its fullness. God protects His people and will give them rest from and victory over their enemies.

Science and the Importance of Opinion

2011-05-30T16:49:00.006-04:00

I've noted before that opinion is important because it can, for instance, function as a means by which "problems with various epistemologies or one's own epistemology may be introduced [to oneself]." As it so happens, opinion also very nearly plays as important a role in practical theology as does knowledge.

Gordon Clark and Scripturalists in general are more well-known for refutations of false views of the role of science than for a positive presentation of what the role of science in a Christian world-view really is. To be fair, Clark promoted what he called Operationalism in his Philosophy of Science and Belief in God, in which he wrote that science ought to be regarded as "an attempt to utilize nature for our needs and wants" rather than "a way to any knowledge."

In my latest post, I in part tried to establish that whether or not a work is good hinges upon one's intentions. Intentions with respect to what? What one opines - not necessarily knows - is the case. How does one come to opine what is the case? By God's ultimate, determinative purpose, to be sure, but the means through which ideas are mediated may vary.

Example: to know the meaning of a sign of the covenant we must know Scripture, but the point at which the application of the sign enters into the equation, it is at that point that we must simply believe that it is being administered properly. That is something we opine, not know. I think I saw water and felt sprinkled on me by an ordained minister according to the Trinitarian forumla, but I would not water down the philosophical definition of knowledge as I would have to just so I could say I know such was the case. Regardless, that we do not know it does not mean our belief in the idea it was validly administered can be an instance of disobedience.

As we think, so we are. God has determined our thoughts - our opinions and our knowledge; our responsibility is to intentionally act on those thoughts in a godly manner, and such does not depend on the possibility of empirical knowledge. I may by science come to believe something upon which I must accordingly choose. What is important in the realm of practical theology is the intention of the choice [made on the basis of my belief], not whether or not my belief is true.

Distinguishing Faith from Good Works

2011-05-27T02:50:00.008-04:00

I don't dispute the idea good works are caused by God's grace rather than having proceeded from ourselves or by a cooperation between necessary grace and an equally necessary free choice. That said, we are still able to perform good works as believers.

The definition of [good] works is something I think needs to be defined more clearly in Reformed theology. There are some parameters for such a discussion.

Defining the question:

- In what sense can our good works be entirely caused by God's grace, still be thought of properly as our good works, and what is faith such that it is distinguishable from a good work?

Introductory observations:

- Saving faith is not a work (Romans 4:5).

- A believer can do good works (Ephesians 2:10).

- Saving faith is understanding and assent to Scriptural propositions pertaining to the gospel as true (1 Corinthians 1:21-24).

- Therefore, understanding and assent are insufficient conditions for what constitutes a good work.

Towards a definition:

- Intentions refer to why or for what reason we will or choose.

- A necessary precondition for discerning whether or not a work is good hinges on an understanding of one's intentions (1 Corinthians 10:31). E.g. one may refuse to steal, but if he refuses for some selfish reason or, generally, any reason other than that such refusal is right obedience to God's authoritative law which thereby shows right respect for God's glory, such an intention connotes a work which is sinful rather than good.

- Contrarily, one cannot “intend” to understand or assent to a proposition as true; he either does or does not. Both understanding and assent, then, do not hinge on the exercise of one’s own will.

Conclusion:

- There seems, therefore, to be at least one way in which saving faith differs from a good work: both may be caused by God’s grace, but only works proceed from our [determined] purposes.

Coherence and Semantic Theories of Truth

2011-05-25T00:56:00.007-04:00

The coherence theory of truth states that a proposition is true if it is one amongst a set of coherent beliefs. As a necessary condition which must be satisfied in order for a philosophical system to be sound, the test of coherence – or to be more precise, consistency – amongst the pertinent propositions functions very well. Moreover, when coupled with a first principle, one is even be able to avoid Russell’s assertion that two equally coherent systems could hypothetically exist on the grounds that such is incompatible with one’s first principle and that “…all other theories of truth lead to skepticism.”[1] Such a belief may not be falsifiable, but then again, the idea that a proposition must be falsifiable in order to be justifiably believed is itself unfalsifiable. Instead, what is important is that which constitutes the preconditions for knowledge.

When not synthesized with a variation of foundationalism, however, the coherence theory of truth is open to numerous criticisms. Firstly,“…for the coherentist…The system of justified beliefs is detached from the world beyond, in a sense that justification is an internal matter totally unaffected by what lies outside.”[2] That is, it is not clear that belief in the proposition “a coherent system does not necessarily reflect reality” is incoherent with a set of otherwise coherent beliefs, in which case the practical value of the coherence theory of truth is questionable.

Another point of concern is whether or not the justificatory method of coherentism is actually foundationalistic. If the method by which one justifies his belief is showing it is “a belief which coheres with a set of otherwise coherent beliefs,” such a definition is a precondition for belief that a given belief is justified. It may be that this definition is self-attesting, but either way, such would not preclude it from being a first principle, for it would in either case not be accepted on the basis of any other belief. Regardless, given the fact there exists a predication of beliefs within the coherentist’s framework, his theory of knowledge will contain a [set of] presupposition[s] from which all other non-arbitrarily accepted propositions are purportedly derived, and these presuppositions are foundationalistic first principles.

The most devastating critique of unqualified coherentism is provided by Bertrand Russell: “…this definition of truth is that it assumes the meaning of 'coherence' known, whereas, in fact, 'coherence' presupposes the truth of the laws of logic...if the law of contradiction itself were subjected to the test of coherence, we should find that, if we chose to suppose it false, nothing will any longer be incoherent with anything else.”[3] Russell alludes here to the principle of explosion, the concept that if any contradiction is true, trivialism follows. The law of contradiction, then, cannot be subject to the justificatory test of the coherence theory of truth with simultaneously affirming and denying the validity of the test, and so the law of contradiction is actually a precondition for it.

Less well-known in comparison to the other theories of truth is Tarski’s semantic conception of truth: “a true sentence is one which says that the state of affairs is so and so, and that the state of affairs indeed is so and so.”[4] It appears to be a sort of correspondence theory of truth which, as is obvious from the context of Tarski’s definition, is meant to include empirical observations and observation statements.

The problem with this theory is that it does not adequately explain the means by which one can justify what is “the state of affairs.” If the semantic conception of truth is only sensible when unified with a particular philosophical system, it is suspect to that system’s attendant difficulties. Logical positivists, for example, used this to connect syntax with semantics or meta-language with object-language, but since the semantic conception of truth is neither tautologous nor empirically verifiable, it fails the verification criterion of meaningfulness.

[1] Clark, A Christian View of Men and Things pg. 34.

[2] Sosa, The Foundations of Foundationalism pg. 557.

[3] Russell, The Problems of Philosophy pg. 122.

[4] Tarski, Logic, semantics, metamathematics pg. 155.

Meta-Epistemology

2011-05-06T15:44:00.004-04:00

When doing research for my revised essay paper on the nature of truth and epistemic justification, I read a book by Michael Levine called The Possibility of Religious Knowledge: Causation, Coherentism, and Foundationalism. In it, he made a few interesting points which I have at times thought myself but could not put into words. I will try to do so now:

The first point he made regards epistemic relativism, the possibility of two “equally valid” systems of epistemic justification:

“Relativism would be the view that there are different and equally valid methods of reasoning that could be used to justify epistemic judgments (i.e. that there are multiple structures of epistemic justification)…What may be justified on one foundation may not be justified on another, but then how can we ever know if we are really justified in any of our beliefs? …To choose between foundations we would have to rely on some third foundation…and so on. Ultimately we could never be justified in our choice of a foundation. We would be left with an arbitrary decision…the problem is that knowledge would itself be impossible because knowledge cannot be based on an arbitrary decision. We cannot decide to know something simply by specifying a foundation for our knowledge…” (pgs. pgs. 269-270).

In the same way that two hypothetically equally coherent systems would require an arbitrary choice between them if coherentism is true, if there is more than one “valid” method of epistemic justification, then any choice between them would be arbitrary. If we chose one over against the other on the basis of some supra-criterion – if I could legitimately argue believing one method over against another is reasonable – that itself would become the basis of all epistemic justification and mitigate against the idea there really are two “equally valid” methods of epistemic justification. Two “equal” systems or methods of epistemic justification would, as Levine notes and Gordon Clark noted in A Christian View of Men and Things (pg. 34), lead to arbitrariness and, therefore, skepticism. In other words, these hypotheticals must be just that: hypotheticals. They are useful inasmuch as they incline us to think about and address these epistemological issues, but they cannot be substantial enough to justify skepticism.

The second meta-epistemological point Levine makes is as follows:

“…in epistemology once the meta-epistemologist analyzes what is for him the normative sense (e.g. a coherentist account), then that normative position will be presupposed… Therefore, the meta-epistemic presuppositions or analyses have to be dealt with in considering the consequences of a normative analysis for what one can be said to know…” (pg. 260)

This is especially true for one who holds to a sort of foundationalism or belief in first principles. One’s first principle is his first principle. By definition, a first principle cannot be the conclusion of a prior premise. This is not to say that a first principle cannot be shown to be reasonable by inspection of its epistemic explanatory power, its self-attestation, and the consistency amongst the propositions which follow from it.

What Levine means is that when one is evaluating opposing first principles, definitions of truth, or methods of epistemic justification, he cannot pretend that he is evaluating them abstract from his background as a skeptic, agnostic, coherentist, pragmatist, empiricist, rationalist, Scripturalist, etc. Even the meta-epistemological statements I have made throughout this post have been informed by my own epistemological background. Fortunately, my epistemological background is such that I can apply apagogic argumentation to falsify alternative positions in a non-question-begging fashion.

Pragmatism and the Nature of Truth

2011-05-05T00:42:00.002-04:00

One could suppose, as pragmatists believe, a belief is true if it is useful, which is to say it successfully encourages societal action. Pragmatism, which developed following the Civil War, rejects any definition of truth which connotes certainty, individualism, and basic principles in favor of one tied to action, community, and a web of beliefs, any one of which can be subject to questioning [as to its relation to the web] at a given time. There are a few problems with this understanding of truth.

Firstly, pragmatistic commitment to action begs the question as to what sort of action beliefs ought to stimulate. There seems to be a hidden, unsubstantiated ethical principle. If there were no such principle, one could, for example, claim that the very certainty which allegedly stimulated the Civil War was a belief which, since it led to a communal action, was true. On the other hand, adherence to one certain ethical principle over against another would both entail some sort of foundationalism and beg the question as to whether one can be certain said ethical principle should be that according to which one should seek to act.

An even more fundamental problem with the pragmatist’s account of the nature of truth is that it is not clear how the pragmatist can validly claim his understanding of the nature of truth is [more] useful [than another]. It may be the case that belief in a different theory of truth would be a greater stimulant to communal action. In this case, a pragmatistic truth would be self-defeating. A pragmatist would, therefore, need to demonstrate his definition is more useful than all others, which would presuppose the ability to discern a causal relation between [his] beliefs [regarding the nature of truth in particular] and [its] usefulness. A merely correlative relation would not suffice, as any communal action could possibly be attributable to a belief distinct from the pragmatist’s definition of truth. However, as soon as one recognizes Humean disbelief in the ability to demonstrate causation could too be claimed to promote communal action more successfully than belief in causation – and could thus, on the pragmatist’s ground, be true – it becomes evident that the pragmatist cannot justify his theory of truth.

Calvinism and the "arbitrariness" of unconditional election

2011-04-26T17:35:00.006-04:00

Calvinist's believe God's elective decree is unconditional, which is to say that God's decree is not founded on factors external to God's purpose. This often times prompts the non-Calvinist to accuse the Calvinist of holding to a doctrine of election which is arbitrary. They ask, "why did God choose to elect you and not Joe reprobate?" and proceed to argue that an unconditional election must be arbitrary. There are several possible responses to this:

1. Everything God has decreed is for His glory. How one individual's election and another's reprobation may function as means by which God's glory is manifested is a separate issue. Even if the answer to this latter question is one which pertains to God's "secret things," it begs the question to state that a counter-factual world - one in which all are elect or whatnot - would more greatly manifest God's glory. This is a sufficient defense, if not a comprehensive one.

2. The question seems to presuppose an infralapsarian-like position in which Joe and I were at some point considered by God without respect to our elective states. If I'm not mistaken, asking this to a supralapsarian would be rather like asking a bachelor if he's stopped beating his wife.

3. Throw a variation of the question back at the questioner, which will help him see the validity of response 1 and shed some light on whether or not response 2 is appropriate. E.g. On what non-arbitrary basis did God decide to make me a male? Can the fact that I am a male be abstracted from who I am? If not, why can my elective status? Etc.