Impossible Worlds, Absolute Necessity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guest Blogging on Molinism

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or:

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

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

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

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

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

Paradox, Contradiction, and Justified Beliefs

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

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

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

The "Dark Side" of Calvinism revisited

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

Objection #1: Nominal Freedom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Objection #2: Epistemic Repercussions of Determinism

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Objection #3: Responsibility

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Canon Determination

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

The Philosophy of Gordon Clark - Response from a Pragmatist

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

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

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

Of all knowledge?? Seems implausible.

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


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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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


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

Claims like this are not falsifiable.

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


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

Is this yet a FOURTH criterion?

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


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

This point is unclear to me.

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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

Common Grace Revisited

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

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

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

Vos on the Development of the Noachian Epoch

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

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

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

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

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

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

Justification and Union with Christ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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