Podcast Update, Genesis 1:1-5, and a Small Tribute to Steve Hays

For those who follow, my friends and I will be starting our podcast again - completed episodes of which you can find here - on Peter Leithart's A House for My Name. Additionally, I would like to dedicate the following notes for a men's Bible study of Genesis 1:1-5 at my church to Steve Hays, Triablogue contributor who recently passed away. He did a great service not only for "the" faith but also my faith. I had mainly kept my blog bookmarked so I could continue to read his thoughts, which were always written at a machine-like pace with machine-like precision. Despite that comparison, he was always very kind to me, and I thank God for his willingness to encourage young men in particular. One light in this world has gone out, and let those who knew or benefited from God's work through him endeavor to carry on shining all the more brightly for what Steve did.

New Creations: Our Identities as Followers of Christ

Genesis 1:1 In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. 

2 The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.

3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 

4 And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness. 

5 God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day...

26 Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”

27 So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.

28 And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.” 

I may have mentioned this to a few of you over the years, but to give a little background about myself for those who may not know me as well, I grew up in a diverse Protestant background. When I was young, I went to a Methodist church, then a non-denominational church, and all the while I was going to a Baptist school. What I find interesting looking back at those times - and there could be many reasons for what I am about to say, most of them due to my own faults - but it probably wasn’t until my late teens to early twenties that I can remember understanding that the stories in the Old Testament were actually much richer than I had realized, and that they happened and were revealed for good reason and according to God’s wisdom. 

When I was a kid, I knew of events in the Old Testament like creation and the fall of Adam and Eve, Noah and the flood, Moses and Egypt, David and Goliath, and Daniel and the Lion’s Den. These and a few others were really popular in Sunday school. But we mostly read the stories of Jesus from the New Testament, and I just thought of Old Testament stories as completely separate from each other, almost like a random collection of stories that all just had common morale along the lines of, “You had better side with God if you want to turn out all right.”

Of course, that is a really important truth to know, especially for young children. But as I grew older, and especially after I started college, I began to hear others ask some hard questions about Christianity. I’m honestly grateful for that time, because I think it was God’s providence that led me to ask my own questions, by which His grace has caused me to grow in knowledge and assurance of His trustworthy promises.

All of that is a bit of a prelude to why I wanted to share some of my thoughts on the very beginnings of the Bible, one of those stories I mentioned that I was told as a kid but now realize has layers to it that always causes me to go back and appreciate the weightiness and freshness of God’s word and plan in history.

One of the hard questions I encountered was the idea of why God created things the way He did. I think we all know that God didn’t need to create, although there is nothing wrong with His decision to create since it pleased Him to do so. But given that He chose to create, I’ve had coworkers or friends ask me why I think God decided to create the way He did, because it seems He could have created many other ways. And while we could always just say, “well this is what pleased Him,” and on some level all questions of why God does what He does bottoms out with this answer, I think there is something else we can say to those people who ask us this.

For instance, a part of my answer to the question of why God created the way He did was that I think God was setting a pattern for imitation and life for the images of Himself that He knew that He would create: we men and women. Now obviously, we can’t create out of nothing, and we don’t have life in ourselves, but there are analogous actions and life we can have that mimic God’s, and I’ll mention a few of them shortly.

Before I do that, I want us to start by thinking about what creation itself is to God: what was the intention for creating the heavens and the earth in the beginning? And a reason I want to do that is that God Himself describes how He thinks of or treats His own creation of heaven and earth, so it will be useful to consider why God reveals these truths to us. So let’s turn to a few Scriptures:

In Isaiah 40:21-22, we read: Do you not know? Do you not hear? Has it not been told you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth? It is he who sits above the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers; who stretches out the heavens like a curtain, and spreads them like a tent to dwell in.

Later, in Isaiah 66:1-2: Thus says the Lord: “Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool; what is the house that you would build for me, and what is the place of my rest? All these things my hand has made, and so all these things came to be, declares the Lord.

Now, when I think about the house of the Lord in the Old Testament, I usually think about the temple, as that is the place where God dwelled among the Israelites. In 2 Samuel 7, for instance, the Lord communicates to the prophet Nathan His desire that a house be built for Him to dwell in, since He had been moving about in the tabernacle for His dwelling. Later, in 2 Chronicles 3:1, we see the fulfillment of God’s desire when the Chronicler writes, “Solomon began to build the house of the Lord in Jerusalem on Mount Moriah.” This house refers to the temple that God’s glory filled once it was completed, just as His glory filled the completed tabernacle in Exodus 40. In other words, God moved into His house.

So we have an idea that creation is God’s house, and also an idea that the tabernacle and temple, at least in the Old Testament, were God’s house. Reverend Michael Morales, who I believe some of you know, wrote the following about this connection between creation in Genesis 1 and the tabernacle and temple:

Approaching the biblical account of creation, there are various indications that such a parallel between cosmos and temple (or tabernacle) is in view. For example, the Spirit or “Wind of God’ as a phrase appears in Genesis 1:2 for the construction of the cosmos and in Exodus 31:3 and 35:31 for the construction of the tabernacle. Moreover, the Spirit’s endowment of Bezalel, the chief artisan of the tabernacle, is described in terms of wisdom, understanding and knowledge (Exodus 31:3), the same attributes by which God is said to have fashioned the cosmos (Proverbs 3:19-20). Other creation terminology shared with the tabernacle includes the word light or lamp in Genesis 1:14-15, which always in the Pentateuch designates the lamps of the tabernacle...

Elsewhere in the Bible, creation is likened to a tent pitched by God (Psalm 104; Job 9:8, Isaiah 40:22) or to a house God has established, with pillars, windows and doors (Job 26:11; Genesis 7:11; Psalm 78:23)…” Reverend Morales concludes that “there is an analogical relationship between creation and tabernacle: again, the cosmos is a large temple; the temple is a small cosmos.

Indeed, as Psalm 78:69 says, “He built his sanctuary like the high heavens, like the earth, which he has founded forever.” 

There are a lot of implications that we can draw from this connection between creation as God’s house and the temple as God’s house. I’ll just mention three things that I think we can learn from the first few verses of Genesis. The first is that God baptizes His house. The second is that the church is also considered God’s house. And the last is that as His house, we are to be lights in and of God’s house.

Baptism

The first point is that God baptizes His house. Let’s turn back to Genesis 1:2, where we see that the earth is formless, and the Spirit hovers over the face of the waters. Likewise, in Deuteronomy 32:10-11, several Reformed authors have noted that Moses uses the same relatively rare terminology to describe the Spirit as hovering like an eagle over the Israelites while leading them out of formless wilderness of Egypt (cf. Ezekiel 20:36) during the exodus. Paul later identifies this exodus through the Red Sea as a type of baptism (1 Corinthians 10:1-2). Similarly, a dove hovered over the flood in the time of Noah, and the Holy Spirit hovered in its descent as a dove on the Christ during His baptism. This leads Reformed author J. V. Fesko notes that “the origins of baptism lie in Genesis 1:2…” Thus, after creating His house, the first revealed act of the God is the baptism of His house. And as images of God and imitators of Christ, we too baptize our houses.

Only after God baptizes His house does He begins a process of newly creating it. He created the heavens and the earth as formless, void, and dark, but after baptism, we see God newly creating it in light, making divisions within His house, and then filling it. And this is why our baptism symbolizes us as new creations: because it recalls historical events in which God took His house and made it new.

Now, when we say that we should baptize our houses, we don’t actually mean our physical homes that we move into and physically dwell but rather our families. “House” is sometimes a double-entendre in Scripture – it can refer to a person’s dwelling place, or it can refer to his family – like when the Lord says in Hosea that He will have mercy on the house of Judah – and sometimes both a dwelling place and family are intended with just one word. There’s a good reason for this, and I will talk about that in a minute. But to give an example of what I mean, in 2 Samuel 7, the Lord reveals to David, “I will build you a house.” God was not only talking about the temple, the dwelling place of the Lord, but also the house of David, his family dynasty (2 Chronicles 21:7), including Solomon who we already noted built later built the temple-house of God.

What does all of this lead to? My first point was that because God baptized His creation house in the beginning, we should too, and that our baptism symbolizes our being new creations just as God newly created His house after baptizing it. But this also leads into my second point: when we say God baptizes His house, we see that God baptizes – not only creation, not only the tabernacle, and not only the temple – but also His family (His Son and the church), too.

House of God

In other words, the second implication of creation being the Lord’s house is that as we too are baptized, new creations of God’s handiwork, that means we too are God’s house. And because we also are God’s house, we too are God’s dwelling place. I think this explains what I mentioned a moment earlier about why “house” in Scripture can sometimes refers to physical dwelling places, sometimes families, and sometimes both. As we live our lives analogically patterned after God’s life and actions, we can see that our dwelling is not only our physical place of existence but also our family. In God’s case, He not only intended to dwell in and enjoy Sabbath rest in His new creation in the sense of the cosmos but also in His images, us as new creations.

I believe this is why New Testament Scriptures explicitly reveal us to be temples for the Holy Spirit and houses of God, both individually and corporately as Christ’s body. I’ll note a few Scriptures:

2 Corinthians 6:15-20 Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ? Shall I then take the members of Christ and make them members of a prostitute? Never! Or do you not know that he who is joined to a prostitute becomes one body with her? For, as it is written, “The two will become one flesh.” But he who is joined to the Lord becomes one spirit with him. Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body. Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.

Ephesians 2:19-22 So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.

Hebrews 3:6 Christ is faithful over God's house as a son. And we are his house, if indeed we hold fast our confidence and our boasting in our hope.

1 Corinthians 3:9-11, 16-17 For we are God's fellow workers. You are God's field, God's building. According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building upon it. Let each one take care how he builds upon it. For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ… Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him. For God's temple is holy, and you are that temple.

2 Corinthians 5:1-4, 17 For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life... Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.

I’ll briefly note that this last passage touches on eschatology. Peter writes in his epistle that all will be baptized by fire upon Christ’s return (1 Peter 1:7, 2 Peter 3:5-7), with some whose faith in Christ will be shown to be genuine and lead to a new and glorified life, and some whose unbelief leads to them and their sinful works being burned up in destruction. Likewise, Paul tells us to look forward to the return of Christ for new and glorified tent-bodies, if indeed we are new creations in Christ.

The final thing I will mention here is that not only are we houses and dwelling places for God as His new creation, but also, Christ is our new dwelling place. If we recall John 2, Christ mentioned that the temple of His body would be resurrected the third day after His crucifixion. We also may remember in Matthew 27 that the temple veil was torn when the temple of Christ’s body was crucified, enabling access for anyone who is united with Him to dwell, pray, and worship in the presence of the Father and heavenly hosts that are mentioned in Hebrews 12.

In other words, Christ is the true temple in that in Him dwells the fullness of the Father and Spirit, which is why He was able to reveal them to us. As Paul says, “he who is joined to the Lord becomes one spirit with him.” So when the Spirit unites us to the Christ our Lord, a few things happen: we dwell in Christ, the true temple, and He then dwells in us, and we become temples. There is then a perichoresis or mutual indwelling of God in us and us in God that mimics the life of the Trinity, the source of all created life.

Light in God’s House

The third and last implication I want to draw out in the remaining time we have here is what we now are to do, knowing that we do that we are baptized new creations and the house of God. And to that point, let us return back to Genesis 1:

Genesis 1:2-5 The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.

Think about what any of us do when we enter our houses. The first thing we do is to turn on the lights. We don’t stumble around blindly in darkness. Instead, we turn on the lights so we can see, evaluate, or judge the state of our house to make sure that everything inside set right. That’s exactly what God does here at the beginning of time. God, after baptizing His creation anew, says “Let there be light” and then evaluates His work as good, by which He then proceeds to continue to make covenantal divisions within His house, each of which He then covenantally fills, especially in multiplying His image.

Now for all we know, God could have created everything in light since the beginning, but He instead chose to create a formless and void creation in darkness. The Spirit then hovers over the face of the waters, baptizing it into the light of the word of God. Light is the means by which work is evaluated, which is why the first good work of God in newly creating His house is to turn on the light. This is also the beginning of a good work God will bring to completion at the day of the Lord, the Sabbath day. God Himself is the true light who came into a dark world to give it light, the true morning that follows the evening.

What we may not realize – or, at least, for I long time I didn’t realize – is that as we live the Christian life as we are supposed to do, we’re imitating a pattern God set since the beginning of time. Due to sin, we are born formless and void, creations in darkness (Ephesians 5:8). To make us new creations, the Spirit hovers over our faces, baptizing us into the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 4:6), who is the Word of God (John 1:1). Light is the means by which work is evaluated (John 3:19-21), which is why the first good work of God in newly creating us as His house (Hebrews 3:6) is also to turn on the light in it, and in His light we see and are light (Psalm 36:9). This is the beginning of a good work in us that God will also bring to completion at the day of Jesus Christ (Philippians 1:6), the one who gives us rest (Matthew 11:28). Christ is the true light who came into a dark world to give light (John 1:9), the true morning that follows the evening. He is the light by whom blind men are able to see (2 Corinthians 4:4), and in His light we will rest forever as we walk in it (Revelation 21:23-25). I won’t go through all of the Scriptures that support this comparison, but to name a few:

John 1:1-5, 9 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it… The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.

2 Corinthians 4:3-6 And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

I think John ties all of the themes I have brought up in Revelation 21 in his description of the new heaven and new earth with its the holy city, the new Jerusalem. In this chapter, God declares He is making all things new, and that His dwelling place is with man. There will be no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb. By its light will the nations walk, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it, and its gates will never be shut by day—and there will be no night there.

All this is to say that what I’ve discovered is that the story in Genesis is the story of the rest of the Bible. It isn’t put there just because it is a record of the beginning of time, although it is that. As God brought forth light from darkness in Genesis, John 1 describes the Son of God as the life that is the light of all mankind, the true light gives light to everyone, the light that the darkness has not and will not overcome. This light exposes darkness, either converting it to light or judging it for trying to hide from it. To believers, God has given the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of the light. And having been enlightened, so to speak, we are to be lights in and to the world, means of witness by which the Father gives that light to others just as it was given to us:

Matthew 5:14-16 You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

Ephesians 5:8 at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.

Being enlightened new creations by God’s handiwork, and we can know with assurance that God looks at and judges His work in us as good, just as He did in Genesis. That is our confidence that, as Paul says:

Philippians 1:6 I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

Following the heavenly pattern of God’s revealed actions and life is our impetus as new creations to live out godly lives on earth. Baptize our house, be God’s house, and shine as lights of His house so that we can, by God’s grace, reach those who are, like we were, in darkness. That is how we are a part of the answer to our prayer that the Father’s “will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” And with that, I will close with the following blessing from the apostle Paul from his letter to the Galatian church:

Galatians 6:15-16, 18 …neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation. And as for all who walk by this rule, peace and mercy be upon them, and upon the Israel of God. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit, brothers. Amen.

Gordon Clark and the Necessity of Internalist Knowledge

Almost 5 years to the day (where does the time go?), I wrote a post in which I addressed how I thought a consistent Scripturalist would have to stand on the question of whether the nature of epistemic justification is internalist or externalist. My initial leaning was towards access internalism, the idea that one's epistemic justification is something of which one can be aware of, reflect on, or is otherwise cognitively accessible. My own views have developed since then, as I now think some beliefs may be internally justified whereas others may be externally justified. In fact - if "justification" is as fuzzy a concept as some epistemologists think - one belief may be both! Still, I tend to agree with my initial suspicion insofar as consistent Scripturalists should be internalists with respect to some knowledge, at least.

But given the stated differences on this blog between my epistemological views and those of Gordon Clark, some might question whether those differences color whether I'm confusing what I think a "consistent Scripturalist" or "strict adherent" to Gordon Clark's epistemology would believe vs. what I think a consistent Christian would believe. In other words, am I fairly representing what Gordon Clark would have defended?

While that is not my primary concern in developing my own epistemological views, it is a fair question and, in part, a reason why I've decided to argue, in this post, what position I think Gordon Clark himself would have had to say. Another reason is that some have taken the opposite position, stating they think Clark was an externalist.

Now, I would preface any discussion about Clark's views regarding internalism and externalism with my opinion that Clark didn't seem to be aware that this was a much debated subject. To some extent, that would make sense, as I don't think externalism was much developed until the 1960s or 70s.

In any case, the idea that our epistemic justification comprises things of which we could be unaware or fail to be able to reflect on is something which, in my mind, is completely foreign to Clark's view on which Scripture is our source of knowledge, our sole epistemic foundation. Admittedly, the Holy Spirit's function in the production of our knowledge is indeed important because He does, indeed, cause it:

How then may we know that the Bible is true? The Confession answers, “Our full persuasion and assurance of the infallible truth and divine authority [of the Scripture] is from the inward work of the Holy Spirit.” Faith is a gift or work of God. It is God who causes us to believe: “Blessed is the man whom thou choosest and causest to approach unto thee” (Psa. 65:4). (GHC What Do Presbyterians Believe?, 1985, pg. 18)

So, does this give us reason to think Clark believed that one's epistemic justification for believing God's word just is the causation of the Spirit, as some Scripturalists think? Not at all. It's fallacious to infer from "God causes knowledge" or "God causes us to believe" that our epistemic justification just is the causation itself. Rather, the "how" here is a metaphysical question yielding a metaphysical answer. I might as well ask, "how do we desire God?" or "from where does our desire for God come?" God ultimately - if not immediately - causes our desires. Of course, God causes knowledge, and blessed by God is he who receives it over against one who doesn't. But how we even know and justify the work of the Spirit which took place logically prior to accepting our axiom must be via deduction made from and justified by our axiom:

Any axiom eliminates its opposite. The Christian system is no more indefensible on this point than any other system. 

Therefore, the more serious reply to the charge that the axiom of revelation begs all questions is that the objection fails to distinguish the status of axioms and the status of theorems. Obviously a first principle or a set of axioms covers all that follows. Indeed, that is why first principles are asserted. It is their function to cover all that follows. But this is not to identify the axioms with the theorems. Euclidean geometry may have six axioms and a hundred theorems. The axioms imply the theorems, to be sure; but the theorems are not axioms. The distinction between axioms and theorems is for the purpose of arranging derivative truths under a basic or comprehensive truth. Were a geometer to assume one of the Euclidean theorems as his axioms, he would, except in very special cases, deprive geometry of many of its propositions. Thus an all-inclusive axiom that swallows everything at one gulp is most desirable. (Clark and His Critics, 2007, pg. 55)

The point is that it seems to me that the justification for our philosophical knowledge is never, for Clark, grounded in the mere causative process itself but rather his faith in the axiom of revelation. For Clark, the axiom of revelation is not that the Holy Spirit must cause our beliefs in order for them to qualify as knowledge, it is that "the Bible is the word of God." Anything about what the Holy Spirit does must be deducible from this axiom.

But before I express my reasons why I believed Clark would have identified with internalism, there is a problem with a purely Scripturalist externalist position that I have never received an answer to, and it is this:

If Scripturalism is true, then all that we can "know" are the propositions of Scripture or those deducible from it. But does the Holy Spirit - the epistemically justifying cause Scripturalist externalists I have encountered constantly appeal to - only [immediately] cause true beliefs of believers in regards to that which may by good and necessary consequence be deduced from Scripture? That is, does the Holy Spirit not [immediately] cause us to believe truths which cannot be deduced from Scripture? Nowhere do I find this to be a deducible proposition from Scripture, and yet it is needed in order to say that we can only know what Scripture reveals, i.e. to be a Scripturalist. Where does Scripture say the Holy Spirit [immediately] causes only beliefs which are deducible from Scripture?

There are other problems I find with a Scripturalist externalist framework, such as the question of whether or not I am more justified in actually having deduced propositions from Scripture than a person who believes - without reason - in a deducible proposition as a result of the causation of the Holy Spirit. But for the sake of the topic of this post and due to the fact that I have lodged other arguments elsewhere on this blog, I will move on. The following constitute my reasoning for believing Gordon Clark himself would have identified as an internalist:

To start with the obvious, something all Scripturalists can agree with is that Clark believed that the axiom of revelation is that alone by which we know anything:

It is incorrect, therefore, to complain that the axiom of revelation deprives us of knowledge otherwise obtainable. There is no knowledge otherwise obtainable. (Clark and His Critics, 2009, pg. 76). 

The axiom of revelation, "the Bible is the word of God," was, for Clark, the foundation for philosophical knowledge. Of course, Clark was aware that knowledge could bear different meanings (The Pastoral Epistles, 1983, pg. 166), but for "knowledge with a capital K":

Granted, it is unlikely that anyone should go to such extremes to substitute another woman for the wife of an unimportant theologian or philosopher. But how do you know? So long as substitution is possible, certainty is impossible... 

The status of common opinion is not fixed until a theory has been accepted. One may admit that a number of propositions commonly believed are true; but no one can deny that many such are false. The problem is to elaborate a method by which the two classes can be distinguished. Plato too granted a place to opinion as distinct from knowledge; he even admitted that in some circumstances opinion was as useful as knowledge with a capital K. (Clark and His Critics, 2009, pgs. 75-76)

Here already we see several reasons why Clark would not have been an externalist. For him, knowledge at least entailed the possibility of certainty. For externalists who believe one's justification for knowledge is located in a causal process, a person experiencing this process need not be aware of it, let alone certain of the resultant belief.

Further, Clark is obviously interested in a "method" by which classes of beliefs like opinion and knowledge can be distinguished in practice. Two externalists with contradictory beliefs could both appeal to a causal process (like that the Holy Spirit caused their belief) to justify their beliefs without a method for distinguishing who to believe. Right or wrong, then, it looks like Clark believed that such a situation would amount to ignoring the problem rather than confronting it. Any time a so-called Scripturalist externalist attempts to defend his "case" exegetically as if it contributes one iota towards one's epistemic justification, he is ironically probably presupposing an internalist framework. For it is not the work of the Holy Spirit that he considers his epistemic justification, it is the actual content of or reasoning from one's first principle, both of which he is aware.

Finally, Clark believed that not only is the axiom of revelation self-authenticating but also that all first principles must be:

The first principle of Logical Positivism is that a sentence has no meaning unless it can be verified (in principle at least) by sensory experience. Yet no sensory experience can ever verify this principle. Anyone who wishes to adopt it must regard it as self-authenticating. So it is with all first principles. (Christian Philosophy, 2004, pgs. 46-47)

I once discussed with someone who thought that Clark meant that the axiom of revelation is self-authenticating merely in that the Holy Spirit caused our beliefs. I pointed out that this quote shows that Clark's understanding of self-authentication can't be meant in that way. The Holy Spirit does not bear witness to logical positivism! Instead, Clark means that for a first principle to be "self" authenticating (e.g. the Bible) means that it shouldn't require verification by something else (e.g. the Spirit) for its epistemic justification. So too with any other alleged first principle, including that of the logical positivist - although they are wrong to think so. For Clark, self-authentication as such has nothing to do with causation.

Another person once mentioned they couldn't understand how I could be an internalist due revelation being external to us. Unfortunately, this betrays a lack of understanding of what the debate between epistemic internalism and epistemic externalism is all about, i.e. whether we can be aware of or reflect on all of the factors which contribute to our epistemic justification. Since we can be aware of or reflect on God's revelation to us, what other justificatory factor do we need? While Scripturalists seems to be starting to follow the advice I gave many years ago in discussing issues in contemporary epistemology (link), that includes having a proper understanding of what those issues are in the first place. Using key terms in a non-standard way is a non-starter.

So while debate can continue about whether or not Scripturalism should be developed along externalist or internalist lines (or both), the preceding indicates that Clark himself would probably have given primacy to epistemic internalism. 

A New Master, A New Father

The new life in which we can walk (Romans 6:4) as new creatures, slaves to God and righteousness, in turn presupposes being set free from slavery to sin (6:18). Thanks be to God for that (6:17), because it is He, not we, who made such both possible and actual through the work of His Son. How have we been set free from sin? We have been crucified with Christ and raised with Him (6:5). His death and resurrection have defeated sin (6:9-11), and only by being united with the righteous Messiah by grace, through faith, and in His Spirit, are we now able to obey and do good works as slaves to a new and infinitely better Master. In short, our justification precedes our sanctification, and as we are united to the Son who is Lord over all facets of our salvation, we will experience all facets. As facets of our salvation, sanctification and eternal life are fruits of a life of slavery to God, of obedience and good works. Thus, the latter necessarily follow the former, although they do not function as the meritorious ground for such ends.

So being under grace rather than law does not mean we should live lawlessly (6:15). We should present our members or persons as slaves to righteousness – which implies obedience (6:16) to some standard or law – and if we do not, we are living a life which has not been set free from sin, a lawless life which ironically keeps us under “the law” and its demand for sinless perfection. Just as union with Christ pervades the life of believers, union with sin pervades the life of unbelievers. Practicing sin evidences a life which has not been freed from sin (John 8:34). A life of practiced love for the greatest and second greatest commandments is a life that fulfills the law (Romans 13:8-10) and can do so precisely because it is not attempting to be justified by it – to live under it.

Now, while Paul speaks in “human terms” (6:19) when he talks about our slavery, it is also clear that he also considers us free. To be a slave to one master is to be free from another. When we are slaves to sin, we are free from righteousness (Romans 6:20). Is that the sort of freedom we want? Paul speaks of our slavery as either to sin, leading to death, or to God, leading to eternal life (6:16). To which of these ends does pretending to be our own, “free” masters lead?

We should then endeavor to be free from sin just as we were free from righteousness, for this freedom is deeper. Elsewhere, both Paul and Jesus contrast slavery to sin with freedom in sonship:

John 8:34-36 Jesus answered them, Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.

Galatians 4:21-26 Tell me, you who desire to be under the law, do you not listen to the law? For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one by a slave woman and one by a free woman. But the son of the slave was born according to the flesh, while the son of the free woman was born through promise. Now this may be interpreted allegorically: these women are two covenants. One is from Mount Sinai, bearing children for slavery; she is Hagar. Now Hagar is Mount Sinai in Arabia; she corresponds to the present Jerusalem, for she is in slavery with her children. But the Jerusalem above is free, and she is our mother.

So in Romans 6, slavery to God and righteousness corresponds to sonship. As slaves to God, we are sons of God, and our sonship gives us an inheritance (Galatians 4:30) that slavery to sin and sonship to the devil (John 8:44) cannot. Our new life of “slavery” is not only freedom from sin but also the freedom of a gifted promise (Romans 6:23), because our new Master is really a new Father. Or, in divine rather than human terms:

Galatians 4:7 So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God.

Update on the Podcast and Reflection

Two new podcasts - one on textual criticism, the other on prayer - have been uploaded in the past few months, and I'm happy to say that, starting with the most recent one, we have been and should from now on be able to record in person with better audio equipment, with plans to go live on camera in the near future and, with it, the possibility of answering live questions, which I would look forward to.

Thus far, it has been an interesting, enjoyable process. I've already written about textual criticism (link) and prayer (link) in the past, but this has been an opportunity to talk out loud about them with friends I've known over half of my life. Before we started the podcast, we agreed its goal should just be that we enjoy each other's company while focusing on books that, with a little critical thinking, will help to sanctify our minds. If the only people who benefit from it is us, that's fair enough, and thank God for it. That's basically how I approached this blog, and I haven't ever regretted it.

At the same time, I wonder where this can lead. Right now, my friends and I know our shortcomings. Personally, I still rely too much on having pre-written material at my disposal while recording. If we were to transition from this to video or to something more ambitious, I need to work on internalizing material in such a way as to recall or speak to it organically. That probably requires a degree of intentionality I can't expend right now, with a new job licence and a wedding in the next few months. But I do look forward to what God has in store, even if it is just many more episodes of getting to chat theology with my friends.

The next episode will be a book of my choosing: David A. Dorsey's "The Literary Structure of the Old Testament."

The Sleep Podcast

Boy, we are long-winded. Here's the recent discussion between my friends and I about Gordon Clark's book, "In Defense of Theology." Hour and a half for a 60 page book... enjoy a nap while you listen! Hopefully, some of what we talk about osmosis-es into your minds, but if nothing else, it was highly enjoyable for me to revisit my long lost blog muse, Gordon Clark.

Up next is "Text and Time," by Edward Hills.

Podcast Episode 2: Lord of Glory (Strevel)

Happy New Year to those of you who still follow this blog. You can find the newest podcast episode I am a part of here, in which myself and a couple of friends discuss "The Lord of Glory" by Chris Strevel, the local pastor for one of my friend's church.

I think technical issues are being sorted out a bit better now that we have someone who's helping us. My fiance tells me I really opened up in this one (as in I may have talked to much). At an an hour and 45 minutes, I'm sure some people may hate the sound of our voices by the end of the discussion, but so be it!

Our next episode will cover a book I put up for discussion, Gordon Clark's "In Defense of Theology." As it's a short book, I figured it would be the best way to introduce Clark to anyone interested in the podcast, although I suspect consistent readers of this blog well know where this is headed. As always, you can find the book through our home page.

Podcast Episode 1: What is Faith? (Machen)

The first episode of TheSanctifiedMind podcast can be listened to here as well as a variety of other platforms. In it, myself and two friends discuss "What is Faith" by J. Gresham Machen.

For the first time recording ourselves having a discussion, I think it went well. There was audio drift at some points, and I think we all have a whole new appreciation for the work that has to be put in to various ministries that do this full time. But I consider it a good and enjoyable work in progress that I'm really looking forward to continuing.

Our next episode will be posted by the first of the new year and will cover Chris Strevel's "The Lord of Glory," which you can find on the home page if you would like to follow along or have questions we could put up for discussion.

The Words of the Wise

To conclude his book, the author of Ecclesiastes self-evaluated himself to be wise, having uprightly taught, weighed, studied, arranged, and written delightful words of truth that he then connects to practical obligations:

· The words of the wise are like goads. (truth)

· The collected sayings are like nails firmly fixed. (truth)

· One Shepherd gives these words and/or collected sayings. (truth)

     My son, beware of anything beyond these. (obligation)

· Of making many books, there is no end. (truth)

· Much study is a weariness of the flesh. (truth)

· This is the end of the matter. (truth)

     Fear God and keep his commandments. (obligation)

        This is the whole duty of man. (truth)

        For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil. (truth)

The author analogizes wise words to goads, sharp points used to prod things such as cattle. Wise words are truths that spur those who listen to them into action. In time, these truths fix in listeners’ minds just as the truths of them are firmly fixed in the mind of the Shepherd who is ultimately responsible for revealing them.

One action the author expects of his listeners is to heed his following advice: “beware of anything beyond these [wise words given by the Shepherd].” There are endless books that could weary one who writes, reads, or studies too much of them. Whereas wise words can refresh a person, prolonged focus on unwise words can depress him. Whether one writes, reads, or studies, then, he should constantly keep in mind wise words given by the Shepherd.

To summarize his life’s investigations, the author states man’s sole duties as encompassed by fearing God and keeping His commandments. The practical reason for this conclusion is he believed God would bring every deed into judgment. Fear of God and His judgment is wise in that it encourages men to keep His commands.

The author warns man against anything beyond the words of the Shepherd yet also expresses that man’s duty is to fear God and keep His commandments. Clearly, then, the Shepherd must Himself be God. As the author is the son of David (Ecclesiastes 1:1), it is possible he drew inspiration from David himself in describing God as a Shepherd (Psalm 23).

This same author of Ecclesiastes may also have been the Solomon who opened his book of Proverbs in the same way as the former opened his book: each described himself as the son of David. The author of Ecclesiastes describes from what the fear of God comes: His enduring work (Ecclesiastes 3:14). Correspondingly, the author of Proverbs describes to what the fear of God leads: refreshment (Proverbs 3:8), confidence and life (14:26-27), riches and honor (22:4), moral character (16:6), and the beginning of knowledge (1:7) and wisdom (9:10). For both authors, understanding the fear of God and the treasuring of His commandments comes from receiving the wise words of Him and His messengers (Ecclesiastes 12:11-12; Proverbs 2:1-6). Both books and author[s] agree there is one ultimate source, God, from whom man receives any wisdom, so it is to His words we must listen if we are to be and live wisely. Two reactions to this are possible.

Firstly, for those who do not believe in God or do not believe these authors were wise, it may be understandable how they could find it puzzling that fear could lead to wisdom, knowledge, refreshment, confidence, life, riches, or honor. Further, perhaps fear of worldly punishment prevents worldly ideas of wrongdoing. In this case, however, it is also uncertain whether having right behaviors with dubious motivations amounts to improvement in moral character. Regardless, where such a person could think wisdom, knowledge, refreshment, et al. otherwise comes from, if not God, is questionable.

Secondly, for those who do believe these authors were wise and, therefore, do believe in God, they must think God will justly judge us all. Any reader who accepts this has obvious reason to be fearful of this God and try to live a life of obedience. As Jesus put it, “fear him who, after he has killed, has authority to cast into hell” (Luke 12:5). This too is God’s enduring work, and why fear of God would stem from facts such as these is, in this case, understandable.

Yet there is more to God’s enduring works than that. Fear of divine punishment is not something that should necessarily persist. Just as Solomon [and the author of Ecclesiastes] built on the word of God given to ancestors like David, future messengers of God built on divine revelation: “there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love” (1 John 4:18). Certainly, fear does have to do with punishment. To the extent sinners will be justly punished by God, it can awaken people into the fearful awareness of the consequences for disobedience. This is a fruitful understanding that leads to knowledge and wisdom.

However, the reality and fearfulness of God’s justice is accompanied by His love for those who listen to His word. Realization of the need to obey God comes too late for sinners to do anything about their past sins. Resultant fear would lead to hopelessness rather than confidence, despair rather than refreshment, disgrace rather than honor, death rather than life… were it not for divine love.

Whereas the fear of God is the beginning of knowledge and wisdom, Paul, another messenger of God, wrote, “Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes” (Romans 10:4), and in Him “are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (Colossians 2:3). It is Christ and His loving work for His people communicated in God’s word that men must believe to be saved, confident, refreshed, and alive. He is our Shepherd, our Savior, and He told His people how they would recognize His words:

I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd…you do not believe because you are not among my sheep. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. (John 10:14-15, 26-28)

Many men have written many words, made many speeches, and influenced many lives. Philosophers, scientists, historians, linguists, sociologists, doctors, politicians, psychologists, clergymen… have lived and died, their work eventually fading. Even as you read this, be constantly mindful of in whose words and work you look to find enduring wisdom. Many men can speak wise words, but these words come from one Shepherd. He is our God. There can be no clearer foundation for believing His words as Creator and Redeemer than the fact they are His words, and there can be no better foundation for loving others than to reflect His love for us:

We are from God. Whoever knows God listens to us; whoever is not from God does not listen to us. By this we know the Spirit of truth and the spirit of error. Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. (1 John 4:6-11)

The Sanctified Mind

I will be joining two friends I have known (and put up with!) for half of my life to begin a monthly podcast in December. The website for this podcast is a work in progress but can be found here. The podcast itself will involve a discussion of a book one of us has chosen, and articles will be coming shortly as well.

For anyone interested in following along, the first book we will talk about will be Machen's "What is Faith?"

Rhetorical criticism

Recently, Steve Matthews wrote a series of articles on his time at Knox Seminary (link), a follow-up to his 2008 book, "Imagining a Vain Thing." The subject of his book is a controversy surrounding then professor Warren Gage. I've recently been reading through Warren Gage's works which I find, on the whole, to be quite insightful. I can see some of the points Matthews makes in his criticisms here and elsewhere (link), but I also think he is, for whatever reason, harsh in his conclusions. Mainly, while Matthews does not believe that Gage is a Christian, from what I have read, Gage consistently aims to defend Reformed soteriology.

What I do want to do in this post is note a potentially useful apologetic method when arguing about textual variants and canonicity. Gage refers to this method as "rhetorical criticism." Rhetorical criticism involves considering structural or thematic issues within a text when attempting to argue for or against given variants. In this post, I'll just be dealing with the former. It is for this reason I bring up the aforementioned criticisms by Matthews. Consider one of Matthews' remarks:

...even if Gage were to establish his case for the existence of chiastic structure in John and Revelation and for intertextuality between these two books, precisely no logically valid doctrinal conclusions could be drawn from it. One can imagine and intuit anything he wants from a literary pattern. If Gage claims to divine a particular meaning from the use of chiastic structure in the Biblical text, a thousand others can draw a thousand different conclusions, and all of them will be just as legitimate as those intuited by Gage. For that reason, literary patterns do not and cannot furnish us with knowledge... nothing valid can be inferred from literary patterns... (link)

Maybe Matthews did not intend his statements to be read this way, but if he did, a blanket statement to the effect that a structure or order embedded in a book or books isn't meaningful or useful strikes me as narrow-minded. It's also quite interesting when compared with statements made by other TrinityFoundation authors about the meaningfulness or usefulness of logical principles being embedded throughout Scripture. Although it's possible Matthews would not agree with these authors, I doubt it, especially given that Matthews seems to contradict himself when he later writes, "chiastic structure is simply a technique ancient authors used to organize their material." I could be wrong about what Matthews is getting at in his article and book, but is that not an inference he thinks would be valid?

In any case, at the very least, surely Christians ought to at least be able to appreciate the beauty in a design or pattern. Noting a particular example of a pattern and being a bit awe-struck isn't an inappropriate reaction. Frankly, the patterns Gage recognizes have the potential to be just as convicting as, say, Clark's ability to reduce non-Christian views to absurdity. Both are plausible in their intention to provide a gracious occasion for belief in redemptive, revealed truths.

Structural order in particular has the plausible effect of drawing one's attention in a certain way. For instance, when I see the chiastic structure inherent in the Flood narrative (link), my attention is drawn to the truth that God remembered Noah and the creatures in the ark. That's the pivot point of the specified structure. Is that an invalid inference? No. There is a structure. The structure "ascends" to a certain point and, upon reaching that point, it correspondingly "descends." Is this to say that the pivot point is any more true than the bookends of it? Of course not. That was never in question. But a literary as well as logical structure underlies the narrative.

Yet another consideration is that a belief needn't be validly derived in order to be useful - indeed, to even be known, as in the case of foundational or externally justified beliefs. Anyone who agrees with Clark's philosophy of science can at least agree with the first half of the above. If I think a baseball is flying towards my face, I'm not going to take my time to reason out whether or not I should duck or block it with my glove. I'm going to do one or the other! I didn't need to carefully lay out a number of premises in order for my quickly formed belief that "I really, really would prefer to duck or block this baseball to avoid being hit in the face" to be highly useful towards a self-preserving course of action.

Now, keeping these and preliminary points in my post on textual criticism in mind (link), let's turn to consideration of how rhetorical criticism in the form of a biblical text's structure might be able to provide a Christian apologist with an alternative avenue by which he can argue for or against certain textual variants. A case study can be found in Gage's book, "A Literary Guide to the Life of Christ in Matthew, Mark, and Luke-Acts," in which Gage argues that the "longer" ending of Mark is canonically authentic.

To begin, I don't see anything in Mark 16:9-20 which is logically incoherent with the rest of the canon of special divine revelation. So it passes the " logical coherence test," if you can call it that (since there is no live possibility of divine revelation actually failing any rigid "test" like that). Yet there seemingly are no preconditions for knowledge given in Mark 16:9-20 which are not given elsewhere, so from an apologetic standpoint, both positions are defensible in that respect.

Next, Gage defines what he calls "deltaforms" throughout Mark. Basically, these are pivot points in Mark around which a truth is exemplified or expounded in different contexts roughly equidistant from the pivot point. It's very complex and very beautiful. I will give a short example to clarify what he means:

Mark 1:24 I (the demon) know who You are, the Holy One of God!
Mark 8:27 He asked His disciples, "Whom do men say that I am?"
Mark 14:61 Again the high priest asked Him, "Are You the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?"

The pivot point is the middle verse, both other verses being 288 verses away from it. The bookends both inform or relate to the pivot point. Another example:

Mark 1:10-11 And immediately as He came up out of the water, the heavens were rent, and the Spirit descended upon Him like a dove. And there was a voice from heaven, ‘You are My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased'
Mark 9:7 And there was a cloud that overshadowed them: and a voice came out of the cloud, saying, ‘This is My beloved Son. Hear Him!’
Mark 15:37-39 And Jesus cried out with a loud voice, and gave up the spirit. And the veil of the temple was rent in two from top to bottom. And the centurion … said, ‘Truly this Man was the Son of God’

Approximately 320 verses from the pivot point (Mark 9:7), in which the Father's voice expresses that Christ is His Son, we find bookends. These bookends express the same truth, a truth also expressed by voices which speak that Jesus is the Son whose baptism rent heaven and whose baptism-crucifixion rent the temple veil.

The structural argument for the "longer" ending of Mark, then, is that their are pivot verses or deltaforms which extend to this longer ending. We can suspect that there is such a pivot or deltaform when we see textual echoes. Mark 16:17-18 echoes Mark 6:13-14. Mark 11:15 lies roughly between those verses:

Mark 6:13-14 And they were casting out many demons and were anointing with oil many sick and healing them. And King Herod heard of it, for His name had become well known
Mark 11:15 And they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to cast out those who were buying and selling in the temple, and overturned the tables of the moneychangers and seats of those who were selling doves
Mark 16:17-18 [I]n My name they will cast out demons … they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover

Demons are cast out and the sick are healed by Jesus' name in both the front and back side bookend passages. Gage notes that in driving out the moneychangers at the pivot point, Jesus also "performed a sort of exorcism on the temple." He further notes that Mark 11:15 can function as a pivot point for other "bookend" passages in Mark, like 6:12 and 16:20, 10:17-18 and 12:32, and a dozen or so others.

Gage finishes his structural discussion by observing "23 separate deltaform structures that include correspondences extending into the longer Markan ending." In other words, sections in the longer ending of Mark are at least 23 times anchored to earlier bookend passages by means of a pivot point, as in the above examples. In fact, some of these sections in the longer ending are found to be "back" side bookends for more than one pivot point in Mark, meaning that these sections are anchored to multiple earlier, "front" side bookend passages, depending upon which pivot point one wishes to consider.

Now, given this information, I can anticipate a few replies. Matthews or others could argue that while a logical structure must necessarily be embedded in the text of Scripture in order for it to qualify as divine revelation, an ordered structure of a different variety - chiastic, deltaformic, etc. - is not. Therefore, an argument might be given that Scripture does not explicitly identify any such order of the latter variety, so they cannot be known.

But I believe would miss the point. Yes, for all we know, God could have revealed Himself in any number of ways. But this would equally apply to the actual content of divine revelation as well as its structure. To be saved, to know anything, it is not necessary that I know Jesus wept and was deeply moved by Lazarus' death. Yet because this contingent truth has been revealed, I can know it. Likewise, while an ordered structure of a text may not be necessary for me to be saved or know anything, if there is a structure, I can know it. Contingent divine revelation is just as knowable as necessary divine revelation; anything being divinely revealed is sufficient for us to know it.

The other reply I can anticipate is that one could argue that just because an ordered structure can appear to extend to the longer ending of Mark, such does not prove that the longer ending of Mark is divinely revealed. While true, this would also miss the point. As I mentioned in a post on textual criticism (link):

...while I think the goal of the textual critic shouldn't be to collect texts, compare and contrast them, and use that as an evidentiary basis to infer or reason to what has been specially divinely revealed, there certainly would be use in disposing ourselves and others to a causal process which tracks truth about what has been specially divinely revealed and codified in physical media - in this case, texts. So one function of textual criticism could lie in its capability to cause externalist knowledge of special divine revelation. In any case, there is certainly some apologetic role textual criticism may play within one's worldview, so long as it is remembered that apologetics is subservient to and in fact derives from one's epistemology.

True, rhetorical criticism cannot prove something has been divinely revealed. Then again, nothing can prove that, so such a criticism is fundamentally flawed and fails to acknowledge the practical means and purpose of apologetics.