More Thoughts on Necessitarianism

Many years ago, I noted in passing that I had rethought my position on necessitarianism (link), the view that everything that happens [or is] could not have happened [or be] otherwise: the way all things are is the only way all things could have been. The catalyst for my reconsideration was wondering whether what flaws I had discovered in certain aspects of Gordon Clark's metaphysics extended to this position as well, for while Clark rejected necessitarianism earlier in his life - as seen, for example, in the following quote - he accepted it later (link):

Christian theologians have commonly pointed out that creation as a voluntary act is incompatible with Hegelian philosophy. Hegel can very sincerely say that the world depends on God or the Absolute, and to this extent he sounds like a Christian, but Hegel continues as no Christian can and adds that the Absolute conversely depends on the world. This mutual dependence is essentially pantheism. No single thing by itself, the Sun, the Moon, or John Doe, is God but the whole, not in its plurality but in its unity, is God. God and the universe are one reality. Barth’s rejection of this mutual dependence, of this reciprocity between whole and part, is clear cut: “God would be none the less God if he had not created a world and man. The world’s existence and our existence is no wise essentially necessary to God, even as the object of his love” (I, 1, 158) (Karl Barth’s Theological Method, 1997, pg. 36 – original date of publication: 1963)

[As an aside, Clark's early acceptance of ethical and perhaps even alethic voluntarism (link) - on which God's justice and truth are defined by what God indeterminatively does - are totally irreconcilable with necessitarianism].

Formerly, I could not see how necessitarianism leads to pantheism. It seemed to me that a necessitarian could relatively consistently hold that "creation is not consubstantial with the Father because the Father did not [and, therefore, could not... have willed to] communicate His nature to creation" (link). That is, while a necessitated creation might share some attributes with God, it wouldn't share others (omniscience, for example) and, therefore, wouldn't be consubstantial. 

As I see it now, the question of whether theistic necessitarianism entails pantheism seems to turn on to what extent individuation is possible if all things are, as necessitarianism seemingly entails, internally related. Does necessitarianism entail monism, as Amy Karofsky argues? Gordon Clark agrees:

Now, first, the brief intellectual biography 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 in an absolute monism. The definition of cat, for example, is part of the definition of dog, and also of Betelgeuse. (Modern Philosophy, 2008, pg. 174)

As Karofsky puts it, "The essence of one thing contains the essence of every other" (The Case for Necessitarianism, pg. 143). If Karofsky is right, the arguments I make here would require her to be omniscient to know anything. 

Upon further reflection, though, even if she did claim to be omniscient, due to the sort of monism for which she argues, her position reduces to skepticism anyways for the simple fact that I do not claim to be omniscient. Further, if "her" mind "contains" "my" mind - if there is even a meaningful way, on such a reductionistic monism, to individuate between the two - that would suggest quite the solipsistic cognitive dissonance!

Further, if monism results from necessitarianism such that there is only one truth or essence, whence the appearance of change or plurality? Clark:

Now I don’t want to bore you by reading what you can read yourself but this is very important and it would be well to read it over several times because there have been, since Parmenides’ day, types of monism, where being is one, but I guess there has never been such an absolute monism as that of Parmenides. From this point on, those who had been monists had always tried to smuggle in a little plurality and we shall see that later on. (link)

On a Parmenidean monism, there is neither time nor change: not even a non-directional C theory. There is no distinction between contingentarians and necessitarians: they are one. There is no such thing as arguments: premises and conclusions are the same. 

Now let's compare Parmenides to Karofsky, who says that 

Although I do think that contingentarians should change their view and alter their contingentarian beliefs, I do not take that to mean that the future is open and not necessitated. The claim that one ought to change and alter their beliefs does not entail that there are two possible futures; instead, when a person changes a belief, that merely means that they held it at some earlier time and rejected it later. Change is consistent with necessitarianism; all change occurs necessarily (pg. 152)

Here is the smuggle. At least Wittgenstein acknowledged he threw away the ladder he climbed. Karofsky uses concepts of time, change, distinctions between contingentarians and necessitarians, etc. - this is not reconcilable with her claim at the end of the book, viz. "I will continue to follow Parmenides' route on which it is..." (pg. 159). And again, see here:

....given the monism that I defend, there are neither individual moments nor individual causes and events; instead, there is a singular, continuous flow of movement and change, and we merely posit “moments,” “causes,” and “events” as a way of articulating and communicating certain ways that we perceive the world to be working. (pg. 154)

Can Karofsky define define "time" without there being individual events? No. Can she define "change" or "flow of movement" consistent with Parmenides' route? No. How Karofsky seems to think of "change" is purely epistemic, a way "we" order the working of the world. But on monism, there is no "we." There is no distinction between us and the world. That is, our (i.e. Karofsky's) articulations and communications and posits are false:

I take it that necessitarianism probably does entail monism and all of the aforementioned monist theses. But it also seems to me that monism can be shown to be plausible, especially in comparison to the difficulties faced by pluralistic theories... The monist account that I have in mind seems to be similar to the ontological monism and blobjectivism that Horgan and Potrč defend. I take it that there is only one reality that is the whole universe, a universe that does not have any genuine parts. And, as I articulated in this section, I believe that there is just one true proposition that is the statement of the entire universe that is the combination of all of the statements that are true. But it also seems to me that there are simple expressions of the one statement, like: there is one reality that is the universe, X =X, and it is. Such expressions are complete and true, but they are not distinct statements; rather they are different ways of expressing the one true proposition, the truthmaker for which is the ultimate existence fact, namely the way that the one reality—the universe—is, where, the is in that claim indicates that the universe: exists, is in fact the case, is real, is such as it is, and that propositions that correspond to it are true (pgs. 139, 144) 

"One reality" "that does not have any genuine parts," "difficulties faced by pluralistic theories," and the like are the closest Karofsky comes to admitting the fully orbed nature of Parmenidean monism. But these are precisely what makes the Parmenidean "route" of "it is" entail no change. For what "flow of movement" can there be other than "from-to"? But there is not really a "genuine" distinction between "from" and "to" given the monism described above. Likewise with change: there can be no "genuine" distinction between and "earlier" or "later" time. The smuggle has been busted.

Now, even if a theistic necessitarian could avoid monism and pantheism, I've argued here that they would nevertheless be caught on the other horn of a dilemma, and a horn which still involves, as Clark mentions above, the problem of mutual dependency. If divine sufficiency is an essential distinction between the Creator and creature (Acts 17:24-25; John 5:26; 2 Corinthians 2:14-16, 3:4-6, 9:8, 12:8-10), then any position which involves mutual dependency between Creator and creation would be problematic.

This is a presuppositionalist reply to necessitarianism. Other arguments - such as those which might be found in contemporary literature - may be less well-founded. For example, I don't have much issue with Amy Karofsky's first chapter on bad arguments for contingentarianism. I agree with her "that there cannot be any empirical evidence in support of contingentarianism because there cannot be any experience of what is never-actual" (The Case For Necessitarianism, pg. 31). 

We only experience the world as it actually is, so it does not make sense to use our experience as grounds for a world that could be otherwise. That is, a posteriori knowledge cannot suffice to rule out necessitarianism, and philosophers who argue to this effect are wrong for doing so. 

Other arguments she mentions in the same chapter - those grounded in "probability," "intuition," "majority opinion," and "contingency-talk" or the way we use language - are also rather weak. I think philosophers who use these arguments tend to conflate metaphysics with epistemology, overly inflate the value of opinion, or trade on our epistemic limitations. To what extent these sorts of fallacious reasonings represent how contemporary philosophers defend contingentarianism, I don't know. Karofsky's work appears well-documented, at least. Nonetheless, I found none of the arguments presented in the entire chapter for contingentarianism to be persuasive.

I think this illustrates one way in which a presuppositionalist or foundationalist can argue a priori knowledge is foundational for a posteriori knowledge. I imagine that many empiricists or scientists would balk at the suggestion that the world could not have been otherwise. If so, however, could they provide reasonable pushback against Karofsky with purely empiricist reasoning? If they can't, might this not persuade them to re-examine their epistemic presuppositions?

There aren't too many other arguments which need addressing. Foremost would be the two mentioned at the end of this post which deal with time and immutability. These topics being so complicated in themselves (and anyone can read my posts with the "Time" tag to see that I've wrestled with this), I can only be brief: 

The "succession" and time argument - "Making God's knowledge contingent on a 'free' choice... requires a succession of ideas in His mind" - depends on Clark's definition of time and can probably be dealt with just by defining time a different way, such as "the chain of secondary effects from secondary causes." This would protect eternal generation as well as timeless divine omniscience, for example. Most debates about time seem to turn on how one defines it, and this seems as satisfying a definition as I've seen. It might still requires some nuance for cases such as justification depending on saving faith but not being temporally subsequent to it, but I don't think such a point requires pause concerning the whether the definition is felicitous.

The immutability argument - "God's knowledge could be other than it actually is also contradicts His immutability" - conflates God's being and activity (see my discussion of divine knowledge as divine activity under the Horton subsection here). God's ability to do or know otherwise does not entail that He would be otherwise. There is also the question of divine immutability within a broader scope, especially given the incarnation (link).

Trinitarianism and Philosophy

I asked a recent acquaintance of mine who has an interest in Trinitarian metaphysics whether he had come across any contemporary philosophers who attempt to explain how the three members of the Trinity could have or share one numeric will. I was particularly seeking if any such authors also affirm that the three persons of the Trinity are distinguished by having self-consciousness.

My question mainly stemmed from pg. 83 of Clark's Today's Evangelism: Counterfeit or Genuine? Clark writes, "Assent then is an act of will." Of course, Clark is talking about humans, but if Clark is right, and if there is an analogy (!) to be made here - as Clark himself felt free enough to do in discussing Trinitarian minds and thoughts - I wondered how or if contemporary philosophers address the question of whether three distinct persons who assent to three distinct thoughts ("I am the Father" vs. "I am the Son" vs. "I am the Spirit") might not (ex hypothesi) thereby have three distinct wills. 

There are assumptions laden in this question. Of course, if human relationships and the relationship amongst the members of the Trinity are analogous, questioning would then turn to what is relevantly disanalogous such that, say, the Trinity might have distinct thoughts without distinct wills. To merely say there is a difference between humans and the Trinity does no work towards explaining what the differences are - let alone why there are differences - when we expect or intuit otherwise.

With these prefatory remarks out of the way, to my surprise, I was impressed that my acquaintance was quickly able to provide me with this article by Scott M. Williams entitled, "Unity of Action in a Latin Social Model of the Trinity." It was an interesting read, but I found it ultimately unsatisfying. From the article:

If the agent is not the same person as the person referred to in the predicate, then the copula expresses essential numerical sameness without identity. (I am unaware of any creaturely analogue to this. It is the divine persons’ sharing numerically the same nature, numerically the same uses of a mental token, and omniscience, that render this a unique case.) For example, if the Father uses a mental token of “I am God the Father” and in so doing affirms a proposition, then the Father affirms that God the Father is identical to God the Father. If the Son uses the same mental token of “I am God the Father” so as to affirm a proposition and never affirms something false (given omniscience), then relative to the Son, the Son affirms the proposition that the Son is essentially numerically the same divine nature as the Father without being identical to the Father. (pg. 331)

For starters, I have never heard of a theologian who would argue that the Son might utter, "I am God the Father." Now, I understand the author's idea, in context, is that the same token can entail affirmation of different propositions if said token is uttered in different contexts (e.g. by different persons). But unless I misread him, he distinguishes the divine nature from the divine persons by arguing the former is a constituent (i.e. part?) of the latter. 

If we assume he is correct, on what intelligible grounds could the Son's use of a mental token such as "I am God the Father" be in the sense of affirming a proposition such as "the Son is... the... divine nature"? On what intelligible grounds can the Father be considered interchangeable with what the author says is His constituent divine nature? Synecdoche? To put it mildly, would indeed be an "unique" understanding of the token in question as well as tokening in general, especially in the case of concretes (as the author argues the divine nature as well as divine persons are).

I found his explanations of other tokens he thinks all three divine persons can affirm on pg. 332 (“The Son and I are sent, and the Father is not sent”) and pg. 337 (“I shall be one who becomes incarnate”) similarly unpersuasive. Metaphysically speaking, is it not strictly the case that persons are sent or become incarnate? Even if it were or is true that the persons who are sent or become incarnate are numerically united in terms of divinity, I don't see how the tokens he mentions can be stretched to accommodate the sort of meanings he attaches as possible, propositional renderings of said tokens. In short, it looks as if the author attempting to retrofit a theory of tokens to suit a theory of numerical unity but has some difficulty accounting for certain tokens. 

With these disagreements registered, to speak of the project the author undertook in more broad terms, I don't criticize him for his thoughtful effort toward the attempt to put forth a coherent Trinitarian theory. Early church fathers made use of the philosophical language of their day, and even the most "traditional" of Protestants seem inclined to agree that the very best of man-made creeds are subject to scrutiny and, at times, even revision (e.g. link). ["Man-made" is not meant pejoratively, by the way, as we all make confessions, prayers, hear or give sermons, etc. using words other than those found in Scripture.]

I've also spoken positively of the role of speculation in apologetics elsewhere (link). Of course, the secret things belong to the Lord our God (Deuteronomy 29:29). But we cannot default to shutting down difficult questions about faith, for some answers to difficult questions may by good and necessary consequence be deduced from Scripture (WCF 1.6). Further, even if theories to certain, difficult questions are underdetermined by Scriptural testimony, providing these as possible answers may hearten one's assurance, discourage confusion of Christianity with worldviews which are internally contradictory, etc. 

What can be personally challenging is that those who are philosophically inclined (such as myself) can, at times, be so enamored with a possible answer to a difficult question that we confuse it with a thoroughly, exegetically grounded one such as is described by the Westminster divines. This was the case with my tendency towards dogmatism on the monarchy of the Father in the early to middle 2010s, at least in the way I presented myself. Having a sense of coherence (a possible answer) is not the same as having truth (link). 

I use myself as an example so that others exploring difficult questions - as one may - may tread with care so as not to stumble over their own pride as I did. For despite my criticisms of the above author, I do understand reasons why one might favor a "one numeric will" model even if it is difficult to explain, one reason being that will must be "located" in nature rather than hypostasis to avoid monotheletism. I've spoken more to that point here as I continue to try to think through this particular Trinitarian puzzle, although I won't act as if I've found the one and only piece that fits. Sometimes, wisdom simply dictates the need for silent meditation on God's word, patient prayer for grace and spiritual illumination, and respect for God's thrice holy name.

Gordon Clark and Anthony Flood (Part 2)

In a recent post, I reviewed chapter 9 of Anthony Flood's book, Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God's Thoughts after Him (link). The following post will cover chapter 10 - "What Are We Doing When We're Reading? Questions about Gordon Clark's Occasionalism" - and conclude my review. As a precursor to this post, I wrote another one in which I argued that late in his life, it appears Clark did, in fact, espouse occasionalism (link). I want to say at the outset that I always appreciate reading other people's thoughts on Gordon Clark. In a way, it helps me understand how I myself have been impacted by Clark's influence and how I can hope to impact the thoughts of others in a helpful way.

In this chapter, Mr. Flood takes aim at late Clark's occasionalism. With Mr. Flood, I would agree that accepting occasionalism is problematic (link and link). His most insistent criticism of late Clark's occasionalism seems to concern the philosophy of language. For instance, consider the following statements:

One wonders how Clark's epistemology accounts for how one learns a language...

Now, how did Gordon Clark access the propositions of Scripture? He was adamant that ink marks on a Bible's white paper pages (or pixels on a computer monitor) convey nothing to the mind. The Holy Spirit, however, uses those marks to 'stimulate' or occasion the divinely intended proposition in the believer's mind...

It was Clark's distinctive position that only the propositions of the Bible conveyed by the Holy Spirit to a human mind counts as knowledge; all other beliefs, however justified and true they may be, are not more than opinions. Clark did not register an opinion as to whether English letters of Chinese characters played any role in that conveyance...

Clark's occasionalism implicitly denies that our sensory organs receive data into which verifiable and falsifiable insights are possible, insights that accumulate into viewpoints. But did not such insights occur whenever Clark read a sentence in a language in which he enjoyed competency? The road to competency, however, was paved with his progressive attainment of rudimentary, intermediate, and advanced insights into that language...

Mr. Flood overstates the case when he intimates that Clark might have counted some beliefs as both "justified" and, at the same time, "not more than opinions." For instance, there is no suggestion in any of Clark's works that he would have accepted Gettier cases as involving justified beliefs.

Otherwise, we can agree that late Clark's occasionalism begs the question as to how Clark would be able to know that he had learned a language. Should Clark have attempted to disconnect his philosophy of language from his philosophy of knowledge - e.g. by suggesting that physical words or ink marks (i.e. the objects of language) are not immaterial propositions (i.e. the objects of knowledge) and, therefore, that one does not need to learn a language in order to know - one might question why Clark phrased his own axiom in the following way (written within one year of his death):

The first principle cannot be demonstrated because there is nothing prior from which to deduce it. Call it presuppositionalism, call it fideism, names do not matter. But I know no better presupposition than “The Bible alone, and the Bible in its entirety, is the word of God written, and therefore inerrant in the autographs.” (link) 

To speak of writings and autographs is to allude to inscripturation, the idea that God's revealed, propositional word is, as Steve Hays once put it, encoded in physical media (link). To suggest, as Clark here did (whether he realized it or not), that his axiomatic propositions are encoded in physical media implies such propositions should be decodable. To be be clear, when I talk about propositions that are "decoded" by or from physical media, I don't mean to suggest that an internalist, empirical epistemology is in view. Rather, our knowledge of propositions is mediately caused. The is a point of metaphysics, and in this sense, we even learn (but not justify) our epistemic axioms. For example, nobody is conceived with knowledge of the gospel.

For emphasis, when I talk about "learning" in this post, I am referring to a metaphysical process, not the process of epistemic justification. I am not suggesting we can somehow use our sense experience as a kind of premise by which we can infer or consciously attempt to justify (in an internalist sense) our propositional knowledge claims. What I am suggesting is that sense experience can function as a secondary, proximate cause of our propositional knowledge claims.

As I said, Clark's statement about inscripturation suggests that God's word is encoded. In turn, this suggests that we can learn, can decode, or can be caused to know the propositions God intends to reveal to us by or from the physical media in which God's word is encoded. We may not even be aware that this metaphysical process has happened.

If Clark could not learn or decode his own axioms from the physical media in which he asserts they were encoded, this would either mean that 1) his own epistemology is self-defeating - if the metaphysical process of learning about his epistemic axioms depends on the ability to decode them from physical media - or 2) that the process of inscripturation to which his axiom alludes was superfluous for our knowledge of God's word - if the metaphysical process of learning about his epistemic axioms does not and cannot have any relevance to the encoding of propositions in physical media.

Clark seemed to opt for the latter option - cf. his rejection of the correspondence theory of knowledge (discussed here and here) - which is why I have elsewhere rhetorically asked what was the purpose of inscripturation if occasionalism is true. There seems to be none, nor does there seem to be a relevant reason why Clark should have mentioned that God's word was "written" and "inerrant in the autographs" in his own epistemic axiom. 

For that matter, how is an autograph "inerrant" if not by metonymy? As early as 1944 and as late as 1982, Clark insisted that "only propositions are true," "only propositions can be true" (cf. Clark's marginal notes on his Examination in Theology, 1944, July 7; Art and the Gospel, 1982, March - April). How, then, can ink marks be inerrant unless we admit that propositions are encoded in the physical writ?

I've made plenty of other criticisms in the aforementioned links, so I suppose there is no need to belabor the point - mainly, I wanted to point out that the face value of Clark's own axiom contains an allusion to the idea that physical media can encode propositions. Despite what critics have objected, however, the remedy to late Clark's faulty metaphysics does not entail a problem for Clark's epistemology. Actually, I agree with the spirit of Clark's first principle; it could be stated more precisely, but I don't think his reference to "written... autographs" is inherently problematic for his epistemology.

To summarize: there is a difference between the way in which we became or were caused to be aware of that which we take to be our epistemic axioms (a point of metaphysics) as compared to the function of the epistemic axioms themselves (the ground our knowledge, including our knowledge of the metaphysics process by which we learned our epistemic axioms). There is a difference between the order of being and the order of knowing. I've written more about how I think a Scripturalist can synthesize  his epistemology with a metaphysic which in turn allows for a subordinate, extra-biblical knowledge of the external world under the subsection on textual criticism here (and its included links). 

Thus, the common objection to Scripturalism - "Don't you have to read your Bible?" - is either irrelevant (if it is a question about metaphysics; a Scripturalist can agree that one can be caused to think about propositions by reading) or begs the question (if it is a question about epistemology, in which case first principles need to be discussed). To use chess terminology Clark himself might find amusing, it seems to me that late Clark's occasionalism was an unnecessary, prophylactic overprotection. He answered an objection he considered to fraught with epistemological intent by changing his view of metaphysics... a misguided enterprise. 

Mr. Flood has a point, then, that late Clark's occasionalism is wrong. But whether Mr. Flood's own views are right also requires evaluation. Take the following quote as a point of departure:

Sometimes it's incontrovertible that efficient causality is not inferred (fallaciously or validly), but felt, directly and infallibly intuited. Not the cause, mind you, but causality itself... Causation can therefore be given in experience, but acknowledging this datum doesn't make one an empiricist. When David affirmed that knowledge of divine causality is given with the creature's experience of creation (Psalm 119:1), he wasn't promoting a fallacious inference.

I think Mr. Flood meant to cite Psalm 19. Incidentally, this passage further supports my contention that [propositional] truth[s] are embedded in physical creation. 

However, what does it mean to say that something "felt" is "infallibly intuited"? Like inerrancy, infallibility pertains to truth. But feelings are not beliefs. It does not appear that Mr. Flood is suggesting that the object of the feeling is a proposition, so is he indirectly suggesting that something other than propositions can be literally true? At first sight, none of these alternatives appear attractive. There needed to be more said on this point. The same can be said for Mr. Flood's following remark:

"Clark's occasionalism implicitly denies that our sensory organs receive data into which verifiable and falsifiable insights are possible, insights that accumulate into viewpoints."

Passing over late Clark's occasionalism, which I already have talked about, it is not clear whether Mr. Flood is an epistemic internalist or externalist. To my knowledge, this matter is not touched on in the book. By default, I tend to assume that people who support an empirical theory of knowledge are internalists. Perhaps my intuition is, in this case, incorrect. If so, this demonstrates all the more that Mr. Flood could have elaborated on his epistemology. If my intuition is correct, however, it would have been helpful if Mr. Flood addressed Clark's criticisms of [internalist] empirical epistemology, for as it stands, I am left without reason to think he is able to do so.

Mr. Flood seems to affirm Aristotle's claim that "forms are grasped by mind in images." Aside from the fact that no defense is given as to why one ought to accept this, to repeat a thought from the first part of the review of this book:

I wonder whether Mr. Flood believes that humans can learn anything in the intermediate state between death and the parousia. The above would indicate that this is impossible. This would make Abraham's conversation with the rich man in Luke 16 either unintelligible or parabolic, for example.

I might also ask whether Mr. Flood thinks angels need to grasp forms in images. If Aristotle is meant to be set as a foil against Clark's occasionalism, the presentation was relatively weak. 

Unfortunately, in terms of Mr. Flood's own, original thought, I didn't find much else of note in this chapter. He mentions two philosophers I had not heard much of before reading this chapter: Alfred Whitehead and Bernard Lonergan. Mr. Flood cites the latter as writing:

If the real is the “out there” and knowing it is taking a look, then the ideal of interpretation has to be as close an approximation as possible to a reconstruction of the cinema of what was done, of the sound-track of what was said . . . . [T]he ideal of the cinema and the sound-track is the ideal not of historical science but of historical fiction. There is no verifiable cinema of the past nor any verifiable sound-track of its speech. The available evidence lies in spatially ordered marks in documents and on monuments, and the interpreter’s business is not to create nonexistent evidence but to understand that evidence that exists . . . .

If objectivity is a matter of elementary extroversion, then the objective interpreter has to have more to look at than spatially ordered marks on paper; not only the marks but also the meanings have to be “out there,” while the merely subjective interpreter “reads” his own ideas “into” statements that obviously possess quite a different meaning. But the plain fact is that there is nothing “out there” except spatially ordered marks; to appeal to dictionaries and to grammars, to linguistic and stylistic studies, is to appeal to more marks . . . . If the criterion of objectivity is the “obviously out there,” then there is no objective interpretation whatever; there is only gaping at ordered marks, and the only order is spatial. But if the criterion of objectivity lies in intelligent inquiry, critical reflection, and grasp of the virtually unconditioned, then the humbug about the “out there” and the simulated indignation about “reading into” are rather convincing evidence that one has very little notion of what objectivity is. (Bernard Lonergan, Insight: A Study of Human Understanding, London: Longmans, Green and Co. Ltd, and New York: Philosophical Library, 582-83.)

I may well be misunderstanding Mr. Flood's intention in citing Lonergan, but I think he is attempting to establish a comparison between Lonergan and Clark in that the epistemologies of both men are empirically pessimistic. If "the ideal of interpretation has to be as close an approximation as possible to a reconstruction of the cinema of what was done, of the sound-track of what was said" yet "[T]he ideal of the cinema and the sound-track is the ideal not of historical science but of historical fiction," it sounds as though Lonergan has no qualms arguing that to attempt to gain knowledge by empirical means [of the internalist variety] is to chase alethic ghosts. If I am interpreting Mr. Flood's intentions correctly, I am again left wondering why he does not attempt to show how and why he thinks Lonergan's views are false.

As for Alfred Whitehead, I tried to read some summaries of his thought (link). Honestly, I found the going tough. One thing that stuck out was his acceptance of some sort of theory of internal relations, so I tried to look into that a little more. I found a helpful article (link), and I would be interested in Mr. Flood's thoughts on it. In particular:

Whitehead puts forth the notion of internal relations, which he introduces when discussing Einstein's relativity. Space-time relationships have been generally understood as external relationships. Whitehead denies that. He resembles Leibniz when he states that the relations that an event has are all internal relations: “This internal relatedness is the reason why an event can be found only just where it is and how it is, that is to say, in just one definite set of relationships. For each relationship enters into the essence of the event; so that, apart from that relationship, the event would not be itself. This is what is meant by the very notion of internal relations. It has been usual, indeed, universal, to hold that spatio-temporal relationships are external. This doctrine is what is here denied” (Whitehead, 1925, pp. 122–123). Put plainly, an internal relation is a relation between entities such that it is not possible for them to exist without each other. Thus, from the stance of the doctrine of internal-relations, inter-actions are “add-ons” to substances; a glue between “things” which, in turn, do not need the glue for their being.

The above caught my eye, for it initially looked to me as though Whitehead ought to have accepted necessitarianism (link). Yet when I followed up on this intuition, it seems Whitehead opposed necessitarianism (link). Is this because Whitehead thinks that the theory of internal relations only applies to creation?

Continuing, the article further outlines what internal relations are and then critiques Whitehead's metaphysic:

Internal relations determine the identity of the related entities. For the purpose of gaining some intuition about this notion, let us provide some examples within a somewhat heterogeneous list of cases. A mother and her baby (specially a fetus) can be said to be internally related because their mode of relation implies that one could not properly speak about the latter if one would leave the former out. In other words, they owe to each other what they are...

Going back to the notion of internal relations, once more the question is not settled by emphasizing the processual nature of whirlpools (or, to that matter, the processual nature of the toilet in which whirlpools form when we flush it). In any dynamical system there is always a final level of internal relationship below which basal elements (entities or variables) are defined independently of their relations. Such mathematical theories of dynamical behavior, operating under the implicit assumption that basal elements have a fixed essence, presuppose the externality of the relations of the basal elements. Even if one claims that interactions are more important than their constituents, this claim holds only for the behavior of the system, not for the constituents themselves. “It is arguably this inseparable connection between processuality and internal relationship that also creates the biggest difficulty in Whitehead ontology: The process which gives rise to relations of experience exists prior to them neither logically nor temporally. The processual subject only comes into being through its relations with other subjects.” (Koutroufinis, 2014a, p. 16). In a word, no internal relations, no process. 

In other words, I think the problem for Whitehead is how, given his processual metaphysic, individuation is possible in the first place. For example, how would Whitehead individuate the mother and baby such that he could relate them? Obviously, one could reframe the question for whatever Whitehead takes as ontologically basic and argues are internally related. 

Finding Meaning

The purpose of this post will be to briefly explore the usefulness of symbolism, parallelism, and literary structures in divine revelation.

Why do some specific words or phrases mean different things in different contexts? To an ordinary person, this may seem like an odd question. I confess that my own interest is due to something Gordon Clark once wrote as well as impressions I've gotten through his writings:

Suppose the word man had ten different meanings: It would be possible to invent ten different terms so that each term would stand for a single meaning, and once more the predicate and the assertion as a whole would be definite. If, however, terms had an infinite number of meanings, then all reasoning would come to an end. For if a word is to convey a significance, it must not only mean something, it must also not mean something. If it had all the meanings of all the terms in the dictionary, it would be useless in speech. Therefore, if terms had an infinite number of meanings, no term would have one meaning; and not to have one meaning is to have no meaning; but if words have no meaning, it is impossible to argue with other people or even to reason privately with oneself. If we do not think one thing, we think nothing; but if we can think of one thing, then we can assign to it a single unambiguous term. (Thales to Dewey, 2000, pgs. 87-89)

Clark was quite right that words must not mean something in order to mean something definite. But the part in bold seems to conflict with what he noted elsewhere: "…all languages have words with more than one meaning and often enough use the two meanings in one sentence" (Commentaries on Pauline Epistles, 2005, pg. 90). Writings by other Scripturalists even seem to have followed Clark's suggestions about "words" or "terms" (again, the part in bold) and applied it to sentences (link).

Perhaps Clark just meant, in Thales to Dewey, that words must mean something definite, for he didn't deny double entendres, metaphors, or the like. In any case, along these lines is the more important thought I want to stress: Clark also seems right in suggesting it possible to assign to one thought a single word or term that would convey meaning. But clearly, God did not do that in Scripture. 

Symbolism and parallelism abounds in God's word (link, link, link). Most Christians know that a lamb can symbolize Christ, even if they do not understand that the temple can symbolize the world or that a tree can symbolize a man. Most Christians also understand the following parallelism: just as Christ suffered unto glory, so too the pattern of the Christian life is to share in His suffering unto the partaking of His glory (1 Peter 4:13, 5:1). There is so much more depth to be found than this, as fundamental and important as it is (Hebrews 5:11ff.), but the main point is that some divinely revealed words have a different referent depending on different contexts.

I think we see symbols and literary parallelisms in Scripture because there are overlaps in functions, characteristics, or purposes of the realities in question. Symbols and literary parallelisms - rhetorical, structural, typological, etc. - are important because they helps us to discern the rhythms in and of history and its contents. What we learn from symbols and parallels, we then are to our apply lives with wisdom. 

Of course, this is not meant to suggest that any two realities considered in symbolism or parallel are of the same nature. Some men are called "elohim" in Scripture (Psalm 82:6-8), for example, not because such men are divine. Rather, these men image God in a particular way (as "judges") that extends beyond that of all people (Genesis 1:26-27). There is a parallel function, although the function is executed on a different scale.

Likewise, a rock is strong and God is strong: in both statements, "strong" must have some overlap in meaning for the symbolic statement that "The Lord is my rock" to be meaningful (Psalm 18:2). Of course, there is also is a disanalogy between the way in which a rock is strong and the way in which God is strong, and no one would confuse the nature of a rock with the nature of God. There is a commonality in attributing the characteristic to both subjects, although the manner in which the characteristic is exemplified will differ.

In a recent post (link), I mentioned that the Word-Christ, word-Scripture, and word-church serve coordinate functions to meet a common purpose. These too are not ontologically univocal, nor do they even have the same function or role in bringing about one's sanctification. Yet that each of these realities is referred to as a "word" indicates something in which they have something in common: each reveals God, and sanctification presupposes God's being revealed in one's life. The church-word speaks the truth of the word-Scriptures about the Word-Christ. These are so integrated in common purpose that common characteristics are also [symbolically!] attributed to them (e.g. "light").

Turning to literary structures, chiasmus (a-b-b'-a' communications), for example, are common occurrences in Scripture (link). These also reflect realities, and they are more readily ascertained and expressible due to synonyms (which wouldn't exist if we assigned to each thought a single word). For example, in the morning, we get out of bed, brush our teeth, eat, and drive to work. We then drive home, eat, brush our teeth, and go to bed in the evening. Almost every day of our lives, we live chiastically. Or take our conversions:

A - ethical presentation of the gospel to us, yet we are unable to obey it

B - metaphysical regeneration of us by the indwelling of the Spirit

C - our epistemological foundation becomes [or is implicitly understood to be] divine revelation

B' - we metaphysically understand ourselves in relation to God as sinners in need of salvation

A' - we ethically understand and obey God by faith and subsequent works 

Now, when we convert, we may not consciously submit that divine revelation is our epistemic foundation even though we subconsciously will act that way due to the indwelling of the Spirit. But that metaphysical change will transform our beliefs and actions in implicit submission to what divine revelation has to say. That is, we will - despite our continual need to put sin to death in our lives until we ourselves undergo death and resurrection - implicitly accept divine revelation as epistemologically foundational.

A mature awareness of our transformed epistemology - that is, when we consciously set the self-authenticating revelation of God (the extant extent of which is, for us, codified in Scripture) as our epistemological foundation - will lead to a mature knowledge and defense of the metaphysical and ethical transformations that have already occurred in us.

What this chiasm enables us to see more clearly is the relationship between epistemology and metaphysics. Our knowledge is caused, not self-originated. Indeed, there are good arguments for why our knowledge cannot be self-originated (link, link). Metaphysics precedes epistemology in the order of being. Metaphysical regeneration logically precedes epistemological transformation. 

That being said, epistemology logically precedes (or at least has equally primacy with) metaphysics in the order of knowing, for it is only from a correct epistemological foundation that one is able to know metaphysical truths (including the foundation itself, or how one came to know it in the order of his being).

In sum, because symbols, parallels, and structures are patterns in reality, they are reflected in divine revelation. These help us to find meaning in our lives. We ourselves are images of God (Genesis 1:26-27). Thus, as words of God (Revelation 19:9), we can only find meaning in relating ourselves to the Word of God (Christ, Revelation 19:9) by structuring our lives according to the word of God (Scripture, Revelation 22:7).

Book Review: Scripturalism and the Senses (Part 3)

Links to all parts may be found here. This part will contain a review and evaluation of Mr. Lazar's second chapter in his book, Scripturalism and the Senses.

The Test of Reason

I agreed with most if not all of what I read in the first three sub-sections of this chapter ("Introduction," "Examples of Self-Refuting Claims," and "Axioms and Presuppositions"). One test of first principles for which Clark advocated was the test of reason. I would say that the test of reason is a good apologetic tool because it remarks upon the nature of truth: truths are mutually consistent, not mutually inconsistent. This is a characteristic of what truth is, and to defend one's worldview on such grounds is reasonable. 

As Mr. Lazar notes, "self-contradiction is a sure sign of error." If the first principle of a worldview is self-contradictory, then it is "self-referentially incoherent" and "refutes itself." It is false. So long as one views this test as an apologetic test rather than an epistemic one (and that epistemology grounds apologetics, not vice versa), I would have little more to add. I was particularly pleased that Mr. Lazar pointed out that archaeological "evidence" has a role within Clark's apologetic, even though "ad hominem" and "elenctic" (link). 

However, as I mentioned in my last review, I do believe that Mr. Lazar views the test of reason as an epistemic test, at least for the Scripturalist. Not only does he view Scripturalism as falsifiable, but he thinks Scripturalism actually "fails the test of reason." As a presuppositionalist, Clark did "assume" the truth of Christianity - but he did not thereby imply that Christianity could be false: "Logically the infallibility of the Bible is not a theorem to be deduced from some prior axiom. The infallibility of the Bible is the axiom from which several doctrines are themselves deduced as theorems" (What Do Presbyterians Believe? 1985, pg. 18). As Clark said, "my skepticism ends where divine revelation begins" (Clark and His Critics, 2009, pg. 258). Likewise, I point out, for example, here (emphasis added):

...I think special divine revelation - the extant extent of which is concretely codified in the Scriptures - is the premise with which one must begin in order to intentionally defend his beliefs with full assurance. This is not to say that my arguments are reasons for this foundational belief, but as Gordon Clark put it, by the systems they produce, axioms must be judged. If an axiom doesn't produce a sufficiently coherent system, can't account for certain worldview necessities, isn't sufficiently explanatory - however you want to phrase it - the axiom itself fails to give us knowledge of the infallibilist and internalist variety. Of course, one may object that we need any such knowledge, which is itself another discussion, one about needs. One can also be mistaken in his judgment, and the "tests" - for the present lack of a better term - do not imply that the falsifiability of an axiom is a live possibility. Yet there is practical use for these tests, and apologists ought to be in the business of being practical whenever possible.

I wrote the above years before Mr. Lazar's book was published. What I am arguing about Clark and Scripturalism is not ad hoc. I truly think an understanding of the epistemology-apologetics distinction I mentioned in my previous review is fundamental to grasping why some of Mr. Lazar's criticisms miss the mark. 

For Clark, the test of reason is not a test by which to epistemically justify the truth of his axiom. "This justification of axioms" would be "the fallacy of asserting the consequent," as Clark suspects Spinoza or other rationalists did (Christian Philosophy, 2004, pgs. 24-25). Now, Mr. Lazar may not believe that Clark's Scripturalism accurately reflects divine revelation, so he can attempt a critique along those lines; my only point here is how Clark would have regarded his own position.

Having already covered that ground in my last post, I think it would be more useful to spend time evaluating Mr. Lazar's thoughts on the relationship and distinction between Clark's epistemic source of knowledge and his means of knowing the content of that source. 

Epistemic Sources and Means of Knowledge

The arguments in Mr. Lazar's second chapter seem neatly divisible into two categories: against certain phrasings of the epistemic axiom of Scripturalism – one's epistemic "source" of knowledge – and against certain Scripturalist's account of one's epistemic "means" of knowledge. The distinction between one's source[s] of knowledge and means of knowing is one I have written about elsewhere (link):

A source of knowledge is something from which we acquire knowledge. Means of knowledge outline the process or processes by which we acquire knowledge from sources of knowledge.

If a person is to know what are the means by which he obtains knowledge, it is fairly obvious this must be accounted for by his sources of knowledge. The primary question, then, is what is or are one’s source[s] of knowledge. Whether this or these sources account for the alleged means of obtaining knowledge is only answerable after this primary question has been answered. It may turn out that whether a source or sources are able to account for the means of obtaining knowledge can help us sort through which of the various proposed sources of knowledge are viable, but first things first.

In other words, when examining a worldview, you have to start with the alleged source[s] of knowledge. What one claims as his source[s] of knowledge functions as his stated sufficient condition for knowledge (link).

Our ability to test such source[s] is limited to examining whether or not they are “self-consistent,” which encompasses multiple evaluative procedures that an apologist can undertake, including but not limited to answering if the source self-attesting, if it provides a theory of knowledge, language, metaphysics, and ethics, and if any of the answers it provides mutually exclusive.

The discussion that follows below takes for granted that the reader has read this post. In it, I discuss in what meta-epistemic context one's epistemic sources and means of knowledge are, for Gordon Clark, seemingly meant to function (with a few additional thoughts of my own). With this context in mind, I turn to the evaluation of the remainder of Mr. Lazar's chapter on "The Test of Reason."

Source[s] of Knowledge

In the first few paragraphs of a subheading entitled, "Clark's Unclear Axiom," Mr. Lazar quotes several isolated statements by Clark in which different words are used to express his epistemic axiom. Mr. Lazar believes these statements could mean different things. I'm not so sure that is true, since we can't seriously think, for example, that Clark would have used the word "revelation" as Muslim would have. That is, context matters. 

I will return to the question of "vagueness" later to provide some thoughts of my own, but that context matters is a point Clark himself made to Mavrodes long ago. The words used to express the axiom are not words "without content" or "empty." Clark's words intentionally referred to certain meanings. Thus, my initial reaction was the same as one Mr. Lazar himself anticipates: "You might think I'm being uncharitable to Clark, and that if you put those statements together, the general idea is clear enough: the Scripturalist takes the Bible as his axiom." If he had stopped on this note, Mr. Lazar's point thus far could have been well-taken: in our own explanation of our beliefs, we really ought to try to be as clear as possible. 

Instead, Mr. Lazar continues in his criticism to say that the above "general idea" is "not what Clark meant (not exactly). Instead, what Clark meant was that Scripturalism takes the Bible as the only source of truth." Thus, the first argument against "Scripturalism" that Mr. Lazar makes is as follows: "The Scripturalist axiom states the Bible is our only source of truth, however, that is not a Biblical claim... Therefore, the axiom refutes itself, making it self-referentially incoherent. Scripturalism fails the test of reason..." 

Here's the problem: Mr. Lazar does not produce any statement by Clark in support of the above, and I don't believe he can. What we instead find are quotes from other authors. I seem to recall that one of these authors does not even profess to be a Scripturalist (Cheung). While Mr. Lazar says that he will "leave [whether Clark had developed a new theory of knowledge] for the historians to debate," I was left with the feeling that a bait and switch had occurred. I had thought that what was going to be analyzed was what, as Mr. Lazar himself says, "Clark meant" - not what later Scripturalists either wrongly inferred or haphazardly phrased. 

To be fair, readers should agree that Mr. Lazar is correct in his criticism of W. G. Crampton: the Bible does not have "a systematic monopoly on truth." God Himself clearly knows things that He hasn’t revealed in the Bible, such as when the Lord will come (Matthew 24:42). Jesus performed and communicated more to his disciples than what was written (John 20:30), and unless Jesus was mute until adulthood, we can say the same about things He told His earthly family as a child. Instead, God – or, rather, the Trinity – possess a monopoly on truth: therefore, what they reveal to us is the extent of what we can know. The Bible just is the extent of what has been revealed, so it is the extent of what we can know (again, keeping in mind that "knowledge" means something definitive and along the lines of what I argue in the aforementioned, linked post on meta-epistemology).

But to call Crampton's expression of Scripturalism "Clark's later formulation" is misleading. The only piece of evidence to support Mr. Lazar's thesis that I could find was the following: "…Dogmatism does not conflict with truth from other sources because there are no other sources of truth!" (Christian Philosophy, 2004, pg. 20). If Clark meant that a Dogmatist would say that his epistemological source of truth is the Bible alone, then Clark's axiom would be problematic. It then would be impossible to identify when the second coming of our Lord and our glorification occurs, for no new divine revelation could ever be known (or even true). Of course, this is not what Clark thought. For a few examples of what he did think:

...a Christian university should commit itself to the proposition that the triune, sovereign God, the creator and preserver of the universe, is the source of all truth, that as revealed in the Scriptures he directs the course of history to its determined end, and that the chief end of man is to glorify him... (The Philosophy of the Modern University)

It is inherent in the very nature of the case that the best witness to God’s existence and revelation is God himself. There can be no higher source of truth. (A Christian View of Men and Things, 2005, pgs. 182-183)

Christ said, “I am the door”; but he did not mean that he was made of wood. Christ also said, “This is my body.” Romanists think he spoke literally; Presbyterians take the sentence figuratively. Similarly the statement, “I am…the truth,” must be taken to mean, I am the source of truth; I am the wisdom and Logos of God; truths are established by my authority. (God's Hammer, 1995, pgs. 34-37) 

In a broad sense, all Christians could and should say the ontological source of truth (and knowledge) is the Trinity, for they are the ontological source of all things. But the propositional, divine revelation particularly codified in the Bible is our sole, current epistemic source of "knowing" ontological (or any) truths insofar as it is the extant extent of divine revelation. It is the epistemic foundation for the extant extent of what we can know to be true:

The principle is sola Scriptura. This is a repudiation of the notion that theology has several sources such as the Bible, tradition, philosophy, science, religion, or psychology. There is but one source, the Scriptures. This is where truth is to be found. Under the word truth there is included, in opposition to irrationalism, logic and the law of contradiction. Whatever contradicts itself is not truth. Truth must be consistent, and it is clear that Scripture does not both affirm and deny an atonement. God is truth. Christ is the wisdom and Logos of God. And the words he has spoken to us are spirit and are life. (How Does Man Know God?)

There is a difference between highlighting a source where truth currently is to be "found" (read: "known") and who the sources of truth ultimately and ontologically are. To show the difference, the Trinity will always be the ontological source[s] of truth. But sola scriptura will not be true forever, for Scripture will not always be the sole location from which we can find (know) truth. Even Clark recognized this: 

...no limit is placed on the knowledge redeemed men man acquire in heaven. If the redeemed are to know as God knows them, it would seem that God will reveal a much greater amount of knowledge in the future life than we now expect. Furthermore this verse implies that though our present knowledge is partial, it is nevertheless true knowledge of the same meaning that God has. (The Answer, 1944, pgs. 13-14).

That is, the more abstract formulation of a Scripturalist's epistemic foundation (say, an appeal to "divine revelation" in general rather than the "Bible" in particular) will never change. But our concrete epistemic foundation will change, for Scripture alone does not comprise the entirety of what will ever be divinely revealed, only what is currently revealed. More knowledge is yet to come, for more divine revelation is yet to come. 

But we must note that the concrete revelation we do have is not something we epistemically reason towards discovering, so referring to it (the Bible/Scriptures/codified propositional content) in our formulation of our epistemic axiom is not only understandably motivated, it is legitimate. We can qualify such formulations by noting that when divine revelation expands, so too will our epistemic foundation. To use a few quotes from Clark that Mr. Lazar brings up to illustrate, perhaps it's more digestible to distinguish our epistemic axiom in the following way:

Concrete formulation: "[L]et the Christian axiom be the truth of the Scriptures." (How Does Man Know God?)

Abstract formulation: "[R]evelation should be accepted as our axiom." (An Introduction to Christian Philosophy, 1993, pg. 59)

Denotatively, these currently refer to the same thing: the content of Scripture. For only Scripture has been currently divinely revealed to us. But the latter formulation is generic enough to allow that the scope of the concrete formulation can broaden to include future divine revelations which will also be axiomatically knowable. Both formulations are true in that both new divine revelation (that will come in the future) and current divine revelation can be known axiomatically or apart from inference. Both formulations overlap in the propositional content they currently reference. It's just that the former content is static (Scripture will always remain Scripture) and the latter content is capable of expanding on the former content in the future.

Vagueness

To return to the question of vagueness or [lack of] clarity, perhaps this explains why Mr. Lazar believes Clark's formulation to be vague: to capture both our present circumstances and potential future ones, a Scripturalist might oscillate between concrete and abstract expressions of his axiom. Whether or not this was true of Clark, Scripturalists should find this to be a good thought for future consideration. 

In any case, I argue that the basic thrust of the axiom and what Clark says is clear enough, however we end up parsing or attempting to fine-tune it. We can agree that there is a more precise way to state the axiom of Scripturalism... just as there is a more precise way to phrase most other statements we make. For example, this blog could probably be more clear! 

Nevertheless, we can't necessarily call vagueness a failure of the test of reason for the same reason that we can't refer to Paul's difficult sayings in Scripture (2 Peter 3:16) to be due to a failure of the test of reason. Rather, these difficulties may be expected due to the deep questions being asked. Sometimes, clarity requires background knowledge. Other times, vagueness is even useful: think of double entendres. Vagueness is important so that both meanings can be communicated with one line. Similarly, in this context, we want both the concrete and abstract formulations of our axiom communicated. Regardless, in the whole of his works, Clark does define, elaborate on, or specify the relevant terms Mr. Lazar questions.

History and Apologetics

In conclusion, Scripturalism does not fail the test of reason here, for it is not self-referentially incoherent. Or, at least, Mr. Lazar's attempted blow may hit the mark against some disciples of Clark, but from what I've read, speaking of "Clark's later formulation of the axiom" is historically inaccurate, for there is no such thing. 

One can't leave a critical point of historical accuracy for "historians to debate" when one's criticisms of a person depend on historical accuracy. Likewise, it would hardly be fair for me to say that Mr. Lazar revised his position based on what some readers of his book say, attack that position, and leave it to others to decide whether Mr. Lazar himself even believed what I attacked. 

Should Mr. Lazar provide evidence that Clark himself did change his axiom or was imprecise at certain points, I would have no problem admitting that (so long as I understand such evidence rightly). Lord knows I've criticized Clark as much as anyone else! That is because I respect the man and his work, as I believe Mr. Lazar does. Because we both respect him, when we criticize him, we should be careful to depict his thoughts as they were, not as others have construed them to be.

[Side Note: Mr. Lazar references extra-Scriptural knowledge as a reason for considering the Scripturalist's axiom to be self-referentially incoherent. I will interact with this more so when reviewing chapters 7 and 8 of the book, chapters to which Mr. Lazar also defers when making this reference. To briefly anticipate: if we construe "knowledge" to refer to a certain kind - along the lines of what I mention in my post on Clark and meta-epistemology linked above - I believe any perceived tension in the Scripturalist's epistemic axiom evaporates. Analogously, a Scripturalist can and should accept that husband can sexually "know" his wife without inference of such from Scripture. The kind of "knowledge" we are speaking about in different contexts is important and why Scripturalists should be more precise about and interested in what sort of epistemic "knowledge" they intend to apologetically defend.]

Means of Knowledge

Mr. Lazar mentions one other criticism of Clark in this chapter. The question revolves around the means by which we know anything. Mr. Lazar writes, "Scripturalism fails the test of reason due to Clark's answer to a recurrent objection to his apologetic." From what he continues to describe, I think Mr. Lazar should have said "his epistemology," not "his apologetic," since Mr. Lazar is going to question the means by which Clark thought one comes to know the propositions of Scripture.  

In any case, Mr. Lazar quotes Ronald Nash favorably: "In order to know what the Bible says, I must be able to read it with my eyes or hear it with my ears or touch the braille with my fingers. But this is sense perception." The issue at hand is that Clark rejects sensation as a means of knowledge. The criticism is that Scripture is physical. It is writ. That writ corresponds to propositions, but it is not itself propositions. So how do you "get" the propositions from the physical writ if you reject sensation as a means of knowledge? Mr. Lazar cites Crampton’s following argument as Clark's response: 

Since all knowledge is propositional, and since the senses in interacting with creation yield no propositions, knowledge cannot originate, be conveyed by, or be derived from sensation. Rather, as noted above, the senses seem to stimulate the mind of man to intellectual intuition, to attend to or to recollect the God-given innate ideas that man already possesses. Dr. Clark used the illustration of a piece of paper on which is written a message in invisible ink. The paper (by illustration, the mind) might appear blank, but in actuality it is not. When the heat of experience is applied to the mind (as when heat is applied to the paper), the message becomes visible. Human knowledge, then, is possible only because God has endowed man with certain innate ideas.

Mr. Lazar refers to this as an extra-biblical theory and, therefore, dismisses it. His point is that Clark only believes biblical theories can be known. Since this view is extra-biblical, it cannot be known on Clark's own grounds. 

There are a few comments to be made here. Firstly, Mr. Lazar cites the book "Lord God of Truth" as where he finds Clark's theory of recollection. Perhaps he meant to cite Religion, Reason, and Revelation, where Clark does speak to that. I don't know what pages he has in mind because Clark himself is not quoted at this relevant juncture. While Crampton and others might summarize Clark rightly, I think it best to deal with a person's own publications when advancing arguments against him. 

In Lord God of Truth, Clark defends Malebranchian occasionalism (pg. 27) and thinks that Augustine's theory of divine illumination anticipated it. He also thinks Jonathan Edwards, an Islamist, and the Westminster divines (timidly) support the position. Clark's idea that the "second causes" in the WCF can be identified with Malebranche's occasions is absurd, but nonetheless, whether one agrees with Clark or not, it is not as if Clark never defended his premises from Scripture (or, at least, others' expositions of Scripture). See Lord God of Truth (pgs. 16-18):

More surprisingly Jonathan Edwards, of all people, provides some support for Malebranche’s views. This is not to say that the great Puritan agreed with Malebranche in great detail. He does, however, provide some Scriptural support for the doctrine of divine illumination. The general Christian public, then, will be somewhat disabused of their anti-philosophical, pragmatic prejudices, and the apologetes will be warned not to strain out a Plato and swallow an Aristotle.

Though there is enough in Malebranche that Edwards would not like, nevertheless in his sermon on A Divine and Supernatural Light Immediately Imparted to the Soul, Section three, he goes further than one might anticipate. Note the word Immediately in the title. The subhead to Section III refers to a “spiritual light that has been… immediately let into the mind by God.” Hence sensation cannot be the means. This he supports by a number of Scripture verses: 1 John 3:6, negatively, “Whoever sins has neither seen him nor known him.” John 17:3, not obviously pertinent, “And this is eternal life, that they may know you.” More clearly pertinent is his comment, “This light and knowledge is always spoken of as immediately given of God.” Of Matthew 11:25-27 he writes, “This effect is ascribed exclusively to the arbitrary operation and gift of God.” I have italicized immediately and exclusively because apologetes, confronted with the Scriptures, make a last ditch stand and argue that God uses other and necessary means. Edwards continues with 2 Corinthians 4:6, “For it is the God who commanded light to shine out of darkness who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God….” Again he comments that this light is “immediately from God… the immediate effect of his power and will.” There is also Psalm 119:18, “Open my eyes, that I may see wondrous things from your law.”

In paragraph 2 of his Secondly (pg. 18) he repeats: “It is rational to suppose that this knowledge should be given immediately by God, and not be obtained by natural means.” He then continues to stress its immediacy, using the word several times on this one page, and negatively adding, “it should not be left in the power of second causes…. Immediately by himself, as a thing too great for second causes to be concerned in…. immediately by himself, according to his own sovereign will” (18, 19).

The empiricists, as hinted at above, will no doubt remark that the reference to beholding wondrous things in the Law shows that sensations of black on white are necessary second causes, so that our knowledge of divine truth is obtained by “natural means.” For the moment, and not to repeat or anticipate all the arguments against empiricism, it will suffice to say that Jonathan Edwards denies it. The empiricists may find some solace in Abraham Kuyper and Guido de Brès, who had some idea of divine illumination, but who did not go so far as Malebranche and Edwards. However, I neither assert that Edwards totally agrees with Malebranche, nor that the latter is infallible. But both men show that Christianity cannot be empirical.

If Mr. Lazar thinks the theory Clark presents is extra-biblical, he ought to engage with Clark at these points, since Clark does attempt to defend his theory as biblical. Note, by the way, that Clark is arguing (through Edwards) that knowledge acquisition is immediate. The question is not whether or not there are innate ideas. That may be a further inference Clark makes elsewhere. But the question in Lord God of Truth and the question about whether Clark "has" to read his Bible is, for Clark, satisfied if he can show that "God alone is the cause" of everything. 

To say "the senses stimulate the mind of man to intellectual intuition" rather seems to suggest that senses could play a causal role in knowledge acquisition. If it does, I would agree, but I doubt Clark would go that route. The whole point of his appealing to occasionalism is to say that sensation is not causal. Or if Clark would not mean that senses play a causal role when speaking of their capability to "stimulate," then such a position must basically collapse back into occasionalism to explain what does cause the ideas in question. Hence, I personally try to speak directly against Clark's occasionalism.

I have criticized Clark's occasionalism here. I think the criticisms are sufficient to show the inconsistency of the position both with Scripture and several of Clark's other beliefs. However, for my part, to respond to Clark by way of responding to Edwards' comments on the Scriptures mentioned, God can be an ultimate cause without being an immediate cause. God opens eyes, yes. He also opens wombs. But while he may be the ultimate cause of these things, it is still the eyes that see and wombs that give birth as mediate or secondary causes. Even supposing that divine illumination is immediate in some circumstances, it would be fallacious to infer it is immediate in all circumstances. Edwards' and Malebranche's comments do not warrant Clark's conclusions in favor of occasionalism in Lord God of Truth. But interaction with these comments is needed so that readers are aware of the reasons for the theory (even if they are wrong).

There are a few more things to say about why Clark was an occasionalist. To me - and I could be wrong - it is as though Clark felt pressured by the "don't you have to read your Bible?" criticism and took up occasionalism in order to refute it. This could have been another stepping stone toward the propositional monism that, while he never fully embraced, Clark was heading towards. Clark may have reasoned that if our "knowledge," properly speaking, is of propositions (which is true), then it would be problematic if these propositions corresponded to non-propositional realities (which is false, but it is something Clark seemed to reject in rejecting the correspondence theory of truth). For then how could we know that the propositions we claim to know correspond to these physical or spiritual non-propositional realities (e.g. Scripture, persons, etc.)?

Even if that was not Clark's concern - again, I am only hypothesizing as to why Clark accepted certain, extreme positions like occasionalism, the idea that persons are propositions, etc. - I think Clark would have done better to respond to the criticism in the following way: do I have to read my Bible (or hear someone preach it) to know the propositions encoded therein? Perhaps, perhaps not. 

If I do, however, this only speaks to an ontological precondition for me to come to know anything. Consider that God is an ontological precondition for me to come to know anything, my parents were ontological preconditions for me to come to know anything, etc. I wouldn't exist and so could not know anything unless God or my parents existed. Similarly, is it impossible to conceive of sensations as ontologically causing thoughts? No. God could certainly decree that sensations function as a mediate cause of my thoughts just as He decreed my parents to function as mediate causes of my existence (and, therefore, thoughts). My thoughts may exist because of certain sensations I've had.

However, whether I do or do not have to hear or read the Bible for ontological preconditions to be satisfied such that I can come to know the corresponding, propositional content, the point is that I don't need to give a particular account of the causal chain by which I come to know anything in order to know anything. If I didn't know who my parents were, I would still know I needed parents in order for it to be ontologically possible to be who I am and know what I do of myself. If I don't know the particular chain of sensations (or other potential causative factors) that have led to my beliefs, that doesn't mean I can't know what I believe. To take another example:

The Bible may have been written by the apostles such that their births were 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). (link)

That is, analogous to the distinction between ontological and epistemic sources of knowledge mentioned above, there is a distinction we can make between ontological and epistemic means of knowledge. The ontological source or foundation of all knowledge and truth and things are the Trinity. But they are not the sole cause of all things (a la occasionalism). The [current] epistemic source of all "knowledge" (of a certain kind) of the truth is divine revelation in general and Scripture in particular. 

Now, linguistically, words refer to certain things. Do we then axiomatically begin with Scripture/the Bible as physical and non-propositional writ, or do we begin with the propositions to which the words of the writ refer? The latter. My knowledge claims are founded or sourced on divine revelation. Divine revelation is primarily propositional, not physical. 

When newer prophets, apostles, or Christ Himself quote older prophets as Scripture (divinely revealed), they refer to the propositional content those prophets communicated. They were not primarily referencing a particular, physical text, although there were and are such texts that correspond to, codify, and perhaps even cause thoughts regarding these propositional contents. This should be especially clear given that when new prophets do reference Scripture, they often do so to an audience through an entirely differently codified sensory medium (like speech) than that by which Scripture was originally revealed (writ) as well as that what writ they did possess wasn't the same as that which originally codified the revelation.

Hence, the WCF also is completely sensible when it says that things may be "deduced" from Scripture by good and necessary consequence. These deductive inferences come by reflection and are our means of knowledge. The WCF is, I think, clearly referring to Scripture as a primarily propositional source from which we can make propositional inferences, not primarily as a physical, non-propositional text. 

Again, this is not to diminish the value of non-propositional texts or roles they can play in knowledge acquisition, as they do codify the propositions in language. We are an embodied, physical people. It would make sense that we ontologically come to causally acquire knowledge by means physical, non-propositional realities. Thus, we can construe sensation as having a causal role (ontological) in knowledge acquisition. This is not troublesome, and in that sense, sensation can be a means of knowledge (of a certain kind). 

It is only if we suggest sensation has an inferential role (epistemic) in knowledge acquisition that we would have to confront Sellars' Dilemma: how can that without propositional content - that which cannot be either true or false, like a sensation - be a foundation or means from which we attempt to infer or deduce the truth or falsity of a proposition[al belief]? In this sense, a Scripturalist would (correctly, I think) deny that sensation is a means of knowledge (of another kind). 

Instead the epistemic means of knowledge is the other side of the coin of the epistemic source of knowledge. In conjunction, these refer to the structure of our epistemic justification for knowledge, which is foundationalistic. Foundationally, we begin with propositions. We make propositional inferences from propositions. The codification of a proposition may be in or from a text such that it is a secondary causal means by which the propositions are effected as ideas we have, but we epistemically start with the propositions that have been codified and only can only "know" (in a certain sense) this hypothetical by deduction from said propositions. 

In this way, Clark would have avoided the trap in which his critics wanted to catch him. They want Clark to defend himself with occasionalism, for that theory is rife with problems. Or they wanted Clark to admit that sensation does play a role in knowledge acquisition, for then they could ask why Clark would say it can only play that role for acquiring knowledge from reading Scripture. That would be special pleading, and the critics would be right to say so. But if we approach the question as I have above, I think there is a way in which to preserve the heart of what Clark wants to get at... although this would seem to concede to critics of Clark (including myself) that there are other kinds of knowledge that can indeed be acquired apart from Scripture. 

Now, this begins to wade us into the waters of discussing the differences between internalist and externalist accounts of knowledge, which is why I having been alluding to different senses or kinds of knowledge throughout this post. But as this will be addressed in future chapters of Mr. Lazar's book, I will reserve comment on that until later. Textual issues will also be something Mr. Lazar brings up in a later chapter. I will likely revisit what I have said here, which I think is a good start for confronting later questions that will arise. 

For those interested in reading more now on the relationship between the divinely revealed propositions, texts in which those proposition have been correspondingly encoded, and externalism as an explanation for why such propositions have been encoded even though I am here suggesting that the Scripturalist's epistemic axiom primarily refer to the propositional content of divine revelation, I'd suggest the following (link, link). 

I will conclude that while Mr. Lazar could have said more to the effect of why it is wrong, he is ultimately correct that Clark's occasionalism is in need of revision. Yet this is not fatal to the project of Scripturalism, and I do not think that Clark's epistemic axiom fails the test of reason. Instead, I conclude Clark failed to make correct inferences about means of knowledge from his epistemic axiom.

In the next part of my review, I will turn to chapter 3, which Mr. Lazar calls the test of skepticism.

The Day Draws Near

Hebrews 10:24-25 And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

As I was listening to Dr. Masters preach at our church yesterday on Hebrews 10:19-25 (link), I was drawn, so to speak, to the last phrase: you see the Day drawing near. 

At first glance, I supposed the reference was to when an event would happen. The Day "drawing near" would then mean that the readers should keep in mind a future, destined event that would become a present one. Similar to the way in which Paul writes that salvation is nearer to us than when we first believed and then draws out the inference that we ought to remain awake and watchful (link), the author of Hebrews would then similarly be exhorting his readers to stir up one another to love and good works, meeting together as the means by which such takes place. 

If true, one could think about what event might be in view, like the destruction of Jerusalem or eschatological Parousia. In favor of the former, the vanishing of the old covenantal (8:13) is certainly a concern of the book, and the destruction of the second temple was a sort of visible seal of judgment of the obsolescence of that covenant. Christians were being persecuted by the Jews, and so the author's call that they should not shrink back (10:39) or neglect to meet was a timely injunction. His timely injunction is matched by his timely encouragement. The author would be following his own advice in stirring up his audience to love and good works. [Incidentally, this would suggest Hebrews was written well before 70 A.D.]

On the other hand, I don't think we need to pit one interpretation against another. The Bible depicts many pictures of our salvation, each of which has been drawn by God in the course of history. Even if the above is true, history is rhythmic. The judgment of Jerusalem was typological of the final judgment, when all of God's enemies will experience fearful punishment. Peter wrote that Christians in every age should pattern their lives accordingly (2 Peter 3).

Peter also wrote that God's word is sometimes difficult. The author of Hebrews differentiates between basic and mature principles of the oracles of God (Hebrews 5). Let's face it: God's word is sometimes vague. Why? Well, one benefit is that in order to understand the whole counsel of God, the reader has to actively meditate on the word, not just passively receive it. Jacob wrestled with God while day had not yet broken and prevailed, receiving a thigh wound and a new name (Genesis 32). We wrestle with God through learning to wield the sword of His word while "Day" has yet to break. When Day does break, will we have prevailed? Will we receive blessing? Though we may limp, will we be named Christians after the name written on the thigh of the sword-wielding King of kings and Lord of lords (Revelation 19:16), Jesus Christ? Holding fast until (or "in"?) the Day is a theme of Hebrews (Hebrews 3-4, 10).

Another benefit of vagueness is versatility. Thus far, this post has used the word "draw" in four or five different ways: I was "drawn" or attracted to God's word. We can "draw" or figuratively pull out inferences from God's word as drawing water from a well. God's word itself "draws" or illustrates salvation in multiple, picturesque stories. A day can figuratively "draw" closer in that there is less and less time until a destined event will occur. People, too, can "draw" near to one another (spatially or spiritually), which I will to return in a moment. The point here is just that we can say more with fewer words: the disciples were drawn to Jesus. Do I mean that they were attracted to Him, that they got nearer to Him in a spatial sense, or that someone or something pulled them toward Jesus? My statement isn't an either/or, it's all of the above: The Father drew (pulled) the disciples to Jesus by making them drawn (attracted) to Jesus, and therefore they were drawn (spatially) to Jesus.

That is what struck me about the passage in Hebrews: the Day is not just a time, He is a person. More than any other New Testament book, it is the concern of the author to argue it is possible and important for his readers to draw near to God (4:16, 7:19, 25, 10:1, 22, 11:6). When 10:25 uses the same language, then, we should see "the Day" not only (or even principally) as a reference to when an event will come but also who is coming. Christ is the Day. Our persons ought to draw near to Him, not draw back from Him, for His person is inevitably drawing nearer to us, whether that be to fearful judgment or blessing. Ready or not, here He comes.

When Christ spoke to Nicodemus at night (John 3:2), it had not dawned on Him that he was witnessing the Day drawing near for the first time. We often think of daybreak as when we can begin to see one another face to face. We forget that Light can be blinding (cf. Acts 9, cf. John 12:40). Daybreak was in the presence of Nicodemus, yet he was so used to the shadowy darkness of the old covenant that the Light actually blinded him from seeing the kingdom of God (John 3:3). 

How much more should we who have been born of God hold fast, not shrinking back or seeking to hide ourselves from the [second] coming of the Day-light, as if darkness can allow us to perpetually keep evil works secret (John 3:19-21). The Light came into the world once before (John 1). Once more will He return, and then there will no longer be any cover of night (Revelation 21). Christians ought not to draw back, as the author of Hebrews said was the way of those who, to their own destruction, wished to remain under the terms of the old covenant. 

Because our hope and faith in Christ’s return unites us to Him, we are enabled to enter the same holy places He entered (Hebrews 10:19). Our objective grounds for confidence gives us subjective reason for full assurance (10:22). All that remains for us to do is consider how to love and do good works for one another (10:24), knowing that all works will be brought to the light of Day (10:25). Joshua may not given the people rest, but God has "spoken of another Day later on" (Hebrews 4:8) in whom we who have believed enter rest: His Son, the radiance of His glory (Hebrews 1:2-3, 4:3).