Trinitarianism and Philosophy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Monkey See, Monkey Don't

I recently talked to someone who observed that Eastern Orthodox apologists have, in the past decade or so, been more apt to try appropriating Reformed apologetics. I've witnessed the same tendency in the likes of Jay Dyer, Joshua Schooping (before he became disillusioned regarding Eastern Orthodoxy), and others I've happened across now and then.

Truth is attractive; hence, many of these Eastern Orthodox apologists once nominally identified as Reformed Christians. As for what reason those who identify as formerly Reformed fall away from the truth, I give some possible reasons here. Regardless, on one level, that such persons retain some truths they learned even after public deconversion is unsurprising. On another level, it is surprising that such apologists have not, by and large, critically self-reflected on whether a fundamentally Reformed apologetic can makes sense within the context of a non-Reformed faith. 

For example, I was recently linked to this article by an Eastern Orthodox philosopher name Erik Sorem. A glaring omission in it - and in Eastern Orthodox apologetics in general - is the connection between apologetics and anthropology. For the Reformed presuppositionalist, one practical purpose for apologetics may be to undermine the false confidence of unbelievers. However, the Reformed Christian acknowledges that man's sinful rebelliousness to God cannot solely be overcome by argumentation. Because of the extent of man's sinfulness, the Holy Spirit must graciously change the mind of the rebellious apart from the help of the rebellious. There is no synergy in regeneration.

By comparison, the author of this article rightly denies the concept of epistemic neutrality but fails to situate the explanation for his denial within the context of a Reformed anthropology, particularly the doctrine of original sin. Thus, the Eastern Orthodox apologist may try to borrow from Reformed apologetics, but their denial of the need for monergistic regeneration both understates man's sinfulness and thereby undercuts any nominal agreement that an "autonomous" epistemology will be false. Gordon Clark didn't write about Eastern Orthodoxy very much, but here's one reference that brings with it a useful reminder:

Eastern orthodoxy stresses the rational nature of man and insists that man remains man after the fall. So far, so good. But the value of this sound position is vitiated by the Eastern churches' failure to recognize the extent of the fall and therefore their inability to see the full need of grace. Some of their theologians toy with a verbally pleasing analogy: as God became man, so man will become God. This is similar to the Gnostic notion that salvation is deification. Partly because of this, some very conservative Protestants have reacted against the identification of the image as reason, believing that this identification implies a superficial view of sin. The implication, however, is fallacious and the reaction extreme. (link)

Speaking of Clark, in my experience, most Eastern Orthodox apologists find their roots in other presuppositionalists such as Bahnsen, Frame, or Van Til (cf. Sorem's article above). Thus, some Eastern Orthodox apologists are unaware that grounding one's justification for belief in the Trinity in Scripture makes more sense than grounding one's justification for belief in Scripture in the Trinity (link; cf. my discussion of transcendental argumentation here and here). 

Of course, there is no question that the Trinity ontologically precede the Scriptures, but I have never witnessed one who takes the Trinity as his epistemic foundation be able to deduce, say, the canon of Scripture. On the other hand, one who takes Scripture as his epistemic foundation may be able to deduce the doctrine of the Trinity. The upshot of this is that presuppositionalism is tied to the doctrines of sola scriptura, perspicuity, self-authenticity, etc. As with the anthropological objection, this epistemic foundations objection is fatal to Eastern Orthodox apologetics and the epistemology its apologists try to defend. 

Such are the general problems with Eastern Orthodox persons who attempt to co-opt presuppositionalism. There are more particular problems I've observed, ones which stem from attempting to follow the Van Tilian brand of presuppositionalism (as all the Eastern Orthodox apologists I have in mind tend to do). 

For instance, I don't know to what extent Eastern Orthodox apologists are familiar with contemporary epistemology - in some cases, self-admittedly not (see Jay Dyer at minute mark 2:03:00 here, for example) - but what I tend to read or hear basic mistakes such as what the meaning of classical foundationalism even is! 

Classical foundationalism is a theory regarding the structure of epistemic justification. In contrast to Sorem's apparent misunderstanding (in which he writes, "Presuppositional apologetics, first and foremost rejected...  classical foundationalism"; see pg. 12ff of his article), foundationalism as such says nothing about whether such justificatory foundations are or must be "autonomous" or "theonomous." Sorem uses the guilt by association fallacy and/or genetic fallacy when he dismisses classical foundationalism seemingly for no other reason than that Aristotle accepted natural theology, that empiricism is flawed, etc. It is painfully apparent Sorem is unaware of theistic foundationalists such as Gordon Clark. 

Ironically, the sort of coherentism Sorem goes on to espouse (see footnote 28) itself collapses into foundationalism, as epistemologists such as Peter Klein have noted: 

The function of the type of reasoning we are considering is to enhance the epistemic status of our belief-states with their propositional contents, and circular reasoning cannot do that. It might appear that some progress has been made when a reason for y, namely x, is offered, but when it turns out that the reason for x is nothing other than y, it is pyrrhic progress.

The second, more plausible form of coherentism - emergent of holistic coherentism - holds that when our reasons have a reciprocal structure they are all at least prima facie justified. The epistemic status of all members of the coherent set is determined by the degree to which the propositions in the set are R-related plus, perhaps, some other properties obtaining. If x and y are members of the coherent set {x, y, ...} and xRy and yRx, it is not x that makes y justified and it is not y that makes x justified, rather what contributes to making each of them justified is that they are members of a coherent set. Being a member of such a set makes them prima facie justified, or, at least contributes significantly to each being prima facie justified (see BonJour 1989). I will not contest that in this paper. What is important to see here is that emergent coherentism, as Ernest Sosa has shown, is a form of foundationalism (Sosa, 1980). The foundational property is being a member of a coherent set of propositions. This form of coherentism is just as much a foundationalist account as, say, an account that takes all believed propositions which represent my conscious mental states as (at least) prima facie justified. Thus, any rapprochement with foundationalism is applicable to emergent coherentism as well." (Klein, Ad Infinitum, pgs. 110-111)

Likewise, Jay Dyer also misunderstands this (see ~minute mark 1:43:00 in the aforementioned video). This is especially inexcusable in that both Dyer and Sorem are aware of and have approvingly cited a paper that makes the same point Klein does above! Both of the apologists recommend Russell Manion's "The Contingency of Knowledge and Revelatory Theism," in which he writes:

Circularity is also not satisfactory, but it is much more interesting. Advocates of a philosophical position called coherentism think they have beaten the foundation dilemma. They point out that beliefs do not neatly divide into the categories of foundational beliefs and justified beliefs. All our beliefs are related to one another in the form of a coherent web. Some subset of our beliefs may be more important and juridical than other beliefs, but all beliefs hang on all other beliefs, and nothing is foundational. 

But as Michael Depaul in his article “Coherentism” points out, coherentism really doesn’t escape the foundational problem at all. It is simply another “version of foundationalism that holds all beliefs to be foundational.” (link)

Further, Dyer and Sorem also miss the important difference between one's having noninferential knowledge and one's defending said knowledge (link, link, link). The structure of one's knowledge - assuming one has "knowledge" (and here I am speaking of "knowledge" about which one may have infallible assurance) - must be founded on divine revelation. 

Now, any defense of our knowledge will of course presuppose that we do indeed have knowledge, but this just means that our defenses or articulations of of our epistemology will ultimately derive from our said foundation, our belief in which is intrinsically justified and meaningful.

So even if circularity appears in one's apologetic argumentation - as Clark might put it, axioms leads to certain theorems, and theorems can help inform whether an axiom has confirmatory evidence or is disconfirmed (e.g. Clark and His Critics, 2007, pg. 53) - it is nevertheless true that we can know the epistemic foundation of revelation without requiring an argument for it. As I suggested earlier, Eastern Orthodox confusion on these points may stem from that they generally follow Van Tilian presuppositionalism, apologists who have discussed epistemic justification in terms of coherence or circularity (e.g. link). 

A side point: contemporary epistemologists such as Richard Fumerton also make use of what are called "conceptual regress arguments" (which are distinct from justificatory regress arguments) to illustrate that the meaning of terms must be intrinsic:

Consider an analogy. One of the earliest distinctions made in ethics is the distinction between different ways in which something can be good. Some things, like taking blood-pressure medication, are good only as a means to something else that is good (perhaps health of the happiness that comes from being in good health). But, one might argue, it can't be the case the everything that is good is good only as means to something else that is good. While we can (partially) define being good as a means in terms of having good outcomes, we cannot complete our definition of goodness this way. To find, even in thought, the source of goodness, we need to form the thought of something that is good in itself (intrinsically good, good just in virtue of what it is).

The suggestion here is that inferential justification stands to noninferential justification as being good as a means stands to being good in itself. (Foundationalism, Cambridge Elements in Epistemology, pg. 8)

Now, Clark and I might nuance where meaning is to be found (e.g. propositions vs. concepts) - and Fumerton in particular might not quarrel with this - but in any case, anyone who has read Clark's book on John Dewey (1963) will recognize Clark's critique of Instrumentalism to be essentially the same as what Fumerton here states. Fumerton also gives the helpful example on the same page of the above work of what it means to be a "descendant": it is to be a child of someone, or a child of a child of someone, or a child of a child of a child of someone, etc. At some point, the ancestor has to make an appearance for it to be meaningful to call a person a "descendant." Recursion eventually bottoms out in foundations.

I'll add to what Fumerton says against an implicitly infinitist view of meaning. When we ask someone to explain what they mean by something like "goodness," we tend to have the expectation that the definiendum won't occur in any attempted definition. If I ask, "what is free choice?" and an Arminian responds, "the ability to choose" (which happened quite often when I used to dialogue with Arminians), I would have to point out that they are repeating what I am asking for them to define (the definiendum) in their attempted definition. That is, such an Arminian has not made any clearer what they mean by "free choice." Of course, I would not childishly ask them to define "free choice" ad infinitum, but the goal was, at some point, to consider a stated definition as symbolizing an intrinsically meaningful proposition... and this is a strike against a circularist view of meaning which, by analogy, helps argue a case for epistemic foundationalism over against epistemic coherentism.

Finally, suppose an Eastern Orthodox apologist were to attempt to reformulate presuppositionalism to be more in line with Clark's view. If they're willing to copy one Reformed view, why not a better one? If one monkey sees another swinging like an Olympic gymnast from one branch of philosophy, he might think to try to graft that branch onto his own tree. Well, because philosophy is interconnected, the monkey's attempt to graft the good branch onto a rotten tree won't take. How much less successful the subsequent mental gymnastics will be as the monkey tries and fails to swing from that branch!

That is, I've already outlined tensions regarding the anthropology and the doctrine of Scripture of Eastern orthodoxy and its presuppositionalist embezzelment. But an Eastern Orthodox apologist has further problems given their theology proper, some of which I've already outlined here and will continue to build a case against now. For instance, take a look at what Eastern Orthodox apologist Perry Robinson admits:

For my part, I affirm rather that God is more than his revelation to put it in biblical terms. Contrary to the Reformed (and the Lutherans) and Rome, metaphysics applies to everything except God ad intra, which is why for them theology is a science and for us it is about the spiritual life in Christ. (link)

This is quite similar to what Eduard Borysov says in "The Doctrine of Deification in the Works of Pavel Florensky and John Meyendorff: A Critical Examination" (Greek Orthodox Theological Review, 2011):

Palamas's theology of energies, according to Meyendorff, has no philosophical rationale behind it. However, one should not forget that the philosophical notions of hypostasis, nature, and energies played a key role in the Christological controversies and had become the basic principles for Palamas's theology proper as well as his soteriology. God is, by definition, unrelated to and above any essence, hence he is unknown by any essence. (Gregory Palamas, Gregory Palamas: The Triads, § 3.2.24, ed. John Meyendorff, trans. Nicholas Gendle (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1983), 95)

Borysov extends the logic of Robinson's statement: insofar as metaphysics and epistemology are intertwined, to say that there can be no divine metaphysics means there can be no knowledge of God. Now compare these statements to what Eastern Orthodox theologian Vladimir Lossky says:

All the Fathers of the Church, both of East and of West, are agreed in seeing a certain co-ordination, a primordial correspondence between the being of man and the being of God in the fact of the creation of man in the image and likeness of God. (The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church, pg. 114)

Robinson and Borysov's statements on metaphysics and epistemology logically extend to anthropology. If metaphysics don't apply to God such that He is unrelated to and above mankind, then there is no "correspondence," "image," or "likeness" of God in man. Considering the emphases Eastern Orthodox apologists tend to put on the early church fathers, it is almost as if the Eastern Orthodox position doesn't cohere at all! Now, where does this finally lead? Palamas says:

...God is not only beyond knowledge, but also beyond unknowing; His revelation itself is also truly a mystery of a most divine and extraordinary kind, since the divine manifestations, even if symbolic, remain unknowable by reason of their transcendence. They appear, in fact, according to a law which is not appropriate to either human or divine nature - being, as it were, for us yet beyond us - so that no name can properly describe them. (The Triads, pg. 32)

Following the logic all the way down, the doctrine of Scripture (and divine revelation) is also destructed. The disharmony of Eastern Orthodoxy leads its apologists to defend they know not what. What one needs for a coherent worldview is not Neo-Orthodoxy or Eastern Orthodoxy but Scriptural orthodoxy:

In reaction against the optimistic modernism of the nineteenth century, contemporary neo-orthodoxy (q.v.) has insisted on the transcendence of God. But it has distorted the biblical concept of transcendence to the degree of making God completely unknowable. Some of their phraseology may be repeated as examples. God has been called the Wholly-Other. Brunner writes, “God can, when he wants to, speak his word even through false doctrine.” Another author denies that a proposition can have the same meaning for man as it does for God. Several theologians collaborated to say that “we dare not maintain that his (God’s) knowledge and our knowledge coincide at any single point.”

Now, it seems obvious that if a man knows any truth at all, he must know a truth that God knows, for God knows all truths. A sentence must mean to a man who knows its meaning precisely what it means to God; for if the man does not know God’s meaning, he does not know the meaning of the sentence. Hence, if man is to know anything, it cannot be denied that there are points of coincidence between human and divine knowledge. Similarly God cannot be Wholly-Other, for this would deny that man was created in the image of God. (link)

For those interested in further reading, I recommend Steve Hays's interactions with EO apologists; e.g. on the issue of divine transcendence, see here.

Contemporary Thought on Gordon Clark

Since the start of this blog, I've reviewed many books which interact with the thought of Gordon Clark - in the past year or so, see here, here, here, and here. Among contemporary authors, Doug Douma has probably invested more time into original, primary research on Clark's life than any other. Included in Doug's contributions to the field of Clark research include his biography of Clark's life, transcriptions of Clark's correspondence, and transcriptions of Clark's lesser known or available writings (cf. link). He has also been a kind correspondent, patiently answering various, abstruse questions of mine by email.

His latest book, The Grand Old Doc: Articles on the Thought of Gordon H. Clark, is a compilation of articles and addresses. Excepting a comment here or there in his earlier books, several chapters express Doug's first publication which incorporates philosophical and theological evaluation. Other chapters still contain historical discoveries, research, and analyses for which Doug has been known.

I had read some of the chapters in this book before purchasing it (on Doug's blog or TrinityFoundation review archives) and even engaged one of them this past summer: "Gordon Clark and the Philosophy of Occasionalism" (link). Regarding this chapter, I was hoping to see Doug follow-up on a comment he made to another author who has also discussed Clark and occasionalism. But as The Grand Old Doc may have been in the works for a while and as awareness of new material by and on Gordon Clark has rapidly expanded in the past 10 years, perhaps this was too much to hope for.

In any case, I'll plan to review various chapters in Doug's book in the future. There was much with which I found myself in agreement, areas which I might offer an alternative perspective, ideas I had not considered, and still others I wish were explored more. More than anything else, though, as someone who has also spent much time profiting from reading Clark's work, I appreciate Doug's effort and care to advance the thought of Clark vis-a-vis raising awareness regarding its depth, diversity, and potential for development, which has facilitated my own efforts to that same end.

What Can You Do?

Barriers to belief in Christ or barriers to growth in sanctification can be dealt with in different ways. What can you do to help someone overcome those barriers? The question is somewhat difficult to answer because, as phrased, it is nebulous. It's vague and abstract. It's like asking, "would barriers to belief and sanctification exist without sin?" Well, of course not. On the other hand, is it especially helpful to raise that point and offer no further insight to a believer trying to counsel someone? Of course not. 

You wouldn't go to fellow believer for advice and say, "I'm having a problem in dealing with a family member. The problem is they're sinners." Getting advice is excellent and one of the first things a believer should do in a concrete situation. But then they should also express the situation in concrete terms. As such, the rest of this post won't feign to give comprehensive answers, because situations differ. There are many proximate causes of barriers to faith or good works. 

Apologists tend to think in terms of rationality and argumentation. This may be what is called for, but as I've said elsewhere, apologetics is a practical enterprise. It takes some skill and experience to have a sense for what is helpful for people and when it is helpful for them. Not every issue someone experiences is a nail that needs to be hammered. Not every situation in which you are trying to offer counsel requires a syllogistic argument. 

Some people are ready talkers. They raise issues when they realize they have issues - although in some cases, the issues they raise are more so symptoms of underlying issues they don't even realize they have. This is as true in relationships with others as it is with one's relationship to Christ. A fight with a spouse may be triggered by one event but have an underlying cause due to unresolved past events ("Do I trust him or her?"; "Does he or she care about me?"; "Do I have any worth?"). If someone is reaching out to you for assistance, listening is important (to nonverbals as well as verbals; link).  

Other people are avoidant. They don't want to make the first step in reaching out for assistance. In such cases, probing questions may be useful. Have a target goal for your conversation. A goal can be as challenging as bringing up a difficult topic, like inviting an apathetic family member to church - "Hey, have you considered...?"; "I was just thinking, would you be interested in...?" - and then, without being pushy or harping on the issue every time you see them, letting them know every so often that you hope they will be blessed by and be a blessing for others. Or your target in a conversation can be as simple as disarming someone: showing vulnerability; not jumping them for having an area of disagreement; not caving to the pressures of a situation; not ignoring their questions; showing that you enjoyed talking to them; etc. 

Having goals may facilitate others being able to see you in a different light than they did before or view you differently than they view others - approachable yet truthful, honest yet tactful (cf. Colossians 4:6). Facilitating a relationship in this way is not manipulative, by the way. You're supposed to love others and want what is best for them. You're supposed to act Christ-like. You don't know who has been chosen by God to receive grace sufficient to convict them of sin, much less how He has ordained for this to take place in time.

Finally, there are some situations which require more forceful action. The above scenarios presuppose those with whom we interact are not actively antagonistic to the faith. But persecution - in contemporary America, this typically takes the form of religious ridicule - is unavoidable. There is not only one right course of action in these (and other) circumstances. Because apologetic engagement is practical, Christians often have some liberty in how they act - so long as it is in accordance with truth. In some contexts, this may mean removing yourself and those who are with you from a derisive situation. It is not a cowardly suppression of truth to protect others or yourself from aggressors or temptations (cf. destruction of Jerusalem; Joseph and Potiphar's wife; Christ Himself hid at times). In other contexts, your conscience may lead you to stand up for truth without even fearing death (cf. Stephen; Christ's crucifixion). However you respond: what's the goal? What's your hope? Consider these questions in subservience to God's word: having a conscious, godly goal you are aiming toward makes it easier to walk a godly path.

As I said above, we should always keep in mind that we have no control over how others will respond to our engagement with them. And we can't forcibly change one's ethical orientation. Nevertheless, we can always do something. Calvinism is not fatalism, and what we do makes a difference. Thinking about or planning for different situations before they happen helps one to be prepared to actually follow through when it comes time to make good (whether proactive or responsive). The less we reflect, the more apt we may be to hesitate on how to rightly respond when particular opportunities arise for exemplifying particular fruits of the Spirit.

Regardless of how others (or even we) respond, all things Christians experience have been ordained for a reason. The Spirit will use our experience to some end that is good for us, others, or both - even if, in the moment, we don't understand how. I tend to try to live with Romans 8:28 in the back of my mind, and it saves me from anxiety. In fact, my struggle is less with assurance (keeping the big picture in mind) and more with daily application (focusing on immediate needs). I tend to need to set conscious, proximate goals for myself or make little progress. My weakness may be another's strength and vice versa: each of us needs the support of others (Hebrews 10:24-25).

Try THIS On For Size!

Having a worldview is like wearing pants: wearing a pair that fits keeps you from being exposed in front of others. Much of the apologetic of unbelievers - social activists in particular, although there is a trickle-down effect - is to use manipulative tempt-tactics to entice believers to drop their drawers. 

On the one hand, to professing Christians who take a hard stance on the importance of truth, words like "tolerance," "empathy," "understanding," "social justice," etc. are weaponized, redefined so as to either force a capitulating compromise or - if one persists in defending and emphasizing the importance of truth - bad press. 

[By the way, this can be just as true of so-called right-wing activists as left-wing activists. For example, right-wing activists may be just as disposed to use the above subterfuge when abolishing abortion or prosecuting those who facilitate abortion are live options on a legislative table. Hypocrisy may be found in every age. Why would people who say they oppose something turn around and intentionally act in a way which undermines their stated position? Well, people may have motivations ulterior to a defense of truth. 

Ironically, if "social activism" is made an end in itself, then social activists can't have a terminus to their cause without also admitting a terminus to their own purpose or reason for being. This is as true on a global scale as it is on a national or local scale. But a worldview that purports to survive on conflict is, as Christ said, as a house divided: it cannot stand. Resolution, consummation, telos: God's will will be done.]

To Christians who understand the importance of a true worldview, they should know this. As much as one might try to suck in his or her gut and squeeze into a pair of Syncretic Slacks, they won't fit - and even if one might think they do, everyone else can see through them. With compromise off the table, bad press is the least of the persecution Christians ought to expect as they live out the Christological pattern of suffering before glory (cf. Romans 8, 1 Peter). 

On the other hand, to professing Christians who are less educated or less self-conscious about the need for a Christian worldview and the dangers of straying from it, unbelieving activitsts are eager to market their causes as new, fresh, trending, adventurous, etc. "Aren't you curious? Do you really want to miss out on the 'experience' we have to offer? Try THIS on for size!" Such sycophants make nihilistic nudists appear honest by comparison.

This analogy is more fitting when one considers the biblical metaphor of playing the harlot. For whom or what are professing Christians willing to undress themselves before the Lord, exchanging the Christological covering He requires (Exodus 28:42-43) for a fling? Just so, broad-mindedness is not a virtue. The book of Proverbs contains no such adage as, "you'll never know unless you try." To evaluate a worldview, we only have to look at it to know it won't fit.

A professing Christian who does not dress themselves in heavenly attire will not be distinguishable from worldly society (Matthew 7:16ff.). We are blessed that God's word provides a tailor-made remedy to our naked condition. May we teach and clothe our children accordingly.

Colossians 2:8 See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ.

Epistemic Contextualism, Internalism, and Externalism

A friend who recently read this post had a question about epistemic externalism. In that post, I ask the following question: "Can some beliefs we have be in some sense justified by virtue of having been caused a certain way...?" My friend, noting that causation is more immediately linked to metaphysics than to epistemology, expressed confusion about whether one who espouses epistemic externalism has conflated a metaphysical question with an epistemological one. For example, if we're asking about what justifies a belief, a common answer is that beliefs are justified in virtue of reasons. This is certainly different than the idea beliefs could be justified in virtue of being caused a certain way.

Epistemology is the study of knowledge. Now, when we specify a subject of study - like knowledge - we are specifying some thing that we think exists, is real, etc. Consider Gordon Clark’s book, A Christian View of Men and Things. Well, what is one of the “Things” in his book about which he attempts to give a Christian View? Epistemology! Metaphysics and epistemology are related. You can’t have a “study of knowledge” (epistemology) unless there is a thing such as “knowledge” to be studied (metaphysics).

A question Clark often asked was, “How do you know?” Clark dealt a lot with comparing and contrasting theories by which people argue we attain “knowledge.” Less often did Clark engage with the question of what knowledge itself is. What is knowledge? Note: this is a question of metaphysics. Of course, if we give an answer to the question “What is knowledge?” we might further ask “How do you “know” that “knowledge” is what you claim?” 

Similarly, ethics is the study of moral principles, i.e. obligations to act in certain ways. A specific ethical theory I accept is that men are obligated to obey God. In fact, I believe God created men with such an obligation. Note: creation is tied to causation and, therefore, metaphysics. If the [created] nature of man is such that he is obligated to obey God, I think this in turn shows that ethics is rooted in ontology (which is a branch of metaphysics). 

[Parenthetical: in fact, I think God’s own nature obliges Himself to act in certain ways. For example, God cannot lie. God cannot fail to love Himself. He cannot annihilate Himself. In fact, these statements are even more absurd than statements like “5 equals 6.” Being free from all external constraints and self-sufficient, God’s own actions are rooted in His nature. Ironically, only in this way, I think, is one able to defend against theistic necessitarianism (link).]

Nature, knowledge, and moral principles: these are, of course, distinct, and we should not conflate them. But if we elevate the importance of any one or two of these to the exclusion of the other[s], we will end up in serious error. If we slight the importance of metaphysics or have a skewed view of the nature of reality, we might be tempted to denied the correspondence theory of truth (like Clark), to understate the importance of using our God-given talents in this world, etc. If we slight the importance of epistemology or have a skewed view of knowledge, we might rationalize the ethical destruction of others (like Hitler), find ourselves zealous but destroyed by God for a lack of knowledge, etc. If we slight the importance of ethics or have a skewed view of our moral obligations, despite our cries on the day of judgment, the Lord Jesus will not recognize our fruitless selves. For more on the point that a Christian worldview is an integration of equally important considerations, see here.

Let’s return to a specific question: what is knowledge? Most philosophers seem to agree that knowledge involves certain kinds of beliefs in propositional truths:

Example: if I understand a truth (like “Jesus is Lord”) but do not believe it, then I don’t have knowledge of that truth.

Example: If I believe something that is not true (like “Jesus is not Lord”), then I also don’t have knowledge of that proposition.

Is “belief in truth” a sufficient condition for “knowledge”? This is where the discussion gets tricky. For example, who has the privilege or right to decide what “knowledge” can or does mean? Even the question itself is vague. Are we talking about the word “knowledge” (what we can physically write, speak, etc. - this would deal with the philosophy of language) or a particular concept of “knowledge” (the subject of an immaterial proposition - this would deal with epistemology)? And, of course, how do we know whether our answers to these questions are true? 

It would take me a long time to provide a thorough answer to these questions, let alone justification for them. In fact, I have even skipped mention of associated questions like the “problem of the criterion.” I have defended my position on many of these questions elsewhere (e.g. link, link, link), so I will simply summarize my views below to the extent I think they will help alleviate my friend's concern.

Physical words like “k-n-o-w-l-e-d-g-e” are symbols. These symbols encode meaning. Clark seems to agree:

…words are instruments or symbols for expressing thoughts. The letters t, w, o or the Arabic numeral 2, are not the number itself, they are the visual or audible symbols used to refer to the intellectual concept. (A Christian View of Men and Things, pg. 211)

In one context, the use of a physical word (like “knowledge”) might symbolize a particular thought. In another context, the use of a physical word (like “knowledge”) might symbolize another thought. 

[Parenthetical: an interesting point which could be raise is that no two physical words or verbal expressions are exactly alike; for example, there are different pixels and even atoms being used on your computer screen for every time I write the word “knowledge.” But for the sake of space, I'll set aside this curiosity.] 

The point is that what a physical word symbolizes will depend upon context. In fact, physical objects may even symbolize different meanings to different people within the same setting. A swastika will symbolize something quite different to Nazis than it will to Jews. Again, Clark seems to agree. More importantly, his agreement with this can be seen regarding the very question of what “knowledge” means:

The various Scriptural usages of the verb know raise a problem in apologetics to which a commentary can only allude in a footnote. The common meaning is exemplified in simple sentences, such, “I know that there is a tree on the lawn,” and “I know that David was King of Israel.” But sometimes, both in Hebrew and in Greek know means believe, obey, choose, have sexual intercourse. English too uses the verb in a variety of meanings. In their opposition to the intellectual emphasis on truth, experiential, emotional, mystical, and neo-orthodox apologetes have contrasted the intellectual Greek meaning with the (sometimes) sexual Hebrew meaning. This contrast is misguided because the Hebrew verb and the Greek verb are both so used. More serious than this linguistic incompetence is a flaw or a gap in the apologetics of these apologetes. It is well enough to point out the extended meanings of the verb. The verb is indeed so used. But such information is irrelevant as an argument against intellectualism and truth. The fallacy or defect is that these apologetes fail to explain knowledge in its basic sense. To insist on extended meanings of knowledge is no substitute for a basic epistemology.” (The Pastoral Epistles, pg. 166).

In my opinion, this is one of the most important yet overlooked Clark quotes of which I am aware. It suggests that Clark could be considered an epistemic contextualist:

…whether S knows something - that she has two hands, for instance - depends on the context of the person who is saying S knows it. If I, a philosopher, worried about brains in vats and Cartesian demons, say it, then S doesn’t know she has two hands… But if S, an ordinary person on the street, someone without the least tincture of philosophy, says she knows that she has two hands, what she says is true. She attributes knowledge to herself in an ordinary, practical, context, in which demons and handless-brains-in-vats are not relevant possibilities…

 
So who, according to contextualism, is right? Am I, a philosopher, right when I (given my context) say that nobody knows they have hands. Or is S right? We are, I’m afraid, both right. And that is where my low opinion of contextualism comes from. (Fred Dretske, pg. 45, Contemporary Debates in Epistemology)

While I agree with Dretske that as a standalone epistemic position, contextualism would not offer much in the way of clarity to important philosophical questions, the position does allow for nuanced, developed epistemic theories within the different contexts one has in mind. I'll return to this in a shortly.

When we talk about Scripture and sentences, we are talking about “script,” i.e. physical writing. Yes, of course, Clark and I acknowledge that “meaning is exemplified” or symbolized in such things, but the point is that the subject under discussion in the above quote is about the physical symbols themselves and that in God’s own inscripturated revelation to us, Clark admits that the physical word “know” can encode different meanings (“believe, obey, choose, have sexual intercourse”).

Clark refers to one of these meanings as “basic” for intellectualism and epistemology. One can only glean so much from a footnote, but taken together with his other writings, I believe Clark is saying that we must accept a particular meaning of “knowledge” as a necessary precondition for any other meaning of “knowledge” to be intelligible or defensible to us. I outline what I think Clark particularly believed is the “basic” meaning of “knowledge” below, and if I am correct, I agree with Clark:

To summarize, to "knowledge" is about truth. Truth is the set of coherent or consistent propositions. When one reflects upon a true proposition, believes it, has either deduced it from an axiom or believes it axiomatically, and the axiom [and/or deduction] is infallibly justified, he can be certain (in an epistemic, not merely a psychological, sense) that what he believes is truth. (link)

Here is where I finally get around to answering my friend's question. His question is on the right track if we were to say that externalism is sufficient as a “basic” definition for knowledge. I have argued in many places that epistemic externalism fails to provide us with a full assurance of our beliefs. For a Christian, this should be seen as problematic. See here, here, and here. At the same time, remember that Clark admitted and Scripture indicates that the physical word “knowledge” may symbolize different meanings in different contexts. 

This brings me to meta-epistemology, a discipline which questions the assumptions and commitments of epistemology (link). When we think about what “knowledge” means, we might also consider what questions or concerns a particular meaning of “knowledge” would satisfy. For example, Paul encourages believers to reach for full assurance of understanding and knowledge (Colossians 2:2-3; see the links in the previous paragraph for a fuller discussion). Thus, if we accept what Paul says as true, we ought to have a definition and theory of “knowledge” that aims for that end. An externalist epistemology cannot accomplish that “basic” end. Full assurance can only be had if we are infallibly aware of our epistemic justification, and this is a variety of epistemic internalism.

[Important tangent: most internalists would acknowledge that we don’t always “show” our justification in the sense of an infinite chain of reasons or proofs. For example, a consistent Scripturalist wouldn't attempt to “show” the epistemic justification for his belief in God’s word. For him, God’s word is a axiomatic, not founded on a prior reason. It isn’t provable - so he can’t “show” his justification to anyone else in that sense. Yet unlike an externalist, he can still reflect on or be aware of the justification he has for his belief in it. He can be conscious of God’s word as self-authenticating: God’s word is true, and its own truth suffices for the justification of one's belief in it.]

On the other hand, I think Mark 6:38, 13:28, 15:44-45, etc. (again, see the two links a few paragraphs ago) encode a different meaning of “knowledge” due to their differing contexts - ones that don't require full assurance. In these contexts, an externalist epistemology has potential to provide us with a definition and theory of “knowledge” that aims for a different end than full assurance. Of course, the aim of an externalist epistemology has some overlap with the aim of an internalist epistemology: both would involve “justified” true beliefs, i.e. something more than a lucky, true opinion. Guessing the lottery numbers does not count as knowledge.

Epistemic “justification” is a way of talking about how we non-arbitrarily or non-luckily “track” truth. Epistemic contextualism allows space for there to be different ways in which this is explained. One context - epistemic internalism - affords a definition and theory of “knowledge” which allows for the conscious tracking of truth. That is why an epistemic internalism (like Clark’s, at least broadly considered) is capable of aiming for full assurance. 

By contrast, another context - epistemic externalism - affords a definition and theory of “knowledge” which allows for the unconscious tracking of truth. As such, we cannot be fully assured regarding a given [dispositional] belief we have which was either unconsciously formed or relies on the presence of factors about which we cannot be conscious. On the other hand, that doesn't mean the aims of epistemic externalism are useless:

Externalism is the theory that we can, to varying degrees and depending on the justificatory factors involved, know or be epistemically justified in our beliefs due to something to which we don't have cognitive or reflective access - say, a causal process. We can think about or reflect on a causal process, but we can't re-experience it, whereas we can periodically access or experience the same beliefs. A causal process might be considered able to epistemically justify us because that process in general produces true beliefs in the mind of the person who undergoes it. The causal process tracks truth, whether we are aware of it or not.

That kind of "epistemic justification" allows for the possibility of our knowing what are generally considered "common sense" beliefs. I'm typing on my computer, you're reading a blog post, etc. The causal process by which we know these propositions is usually physical media. But the chain of causes which produce a belief need not be evidentiary reasons for my belief. For example, while God is the ultimate cause of all things, not all people's beliefs will be reasoned from or evidenced by a belief they may have - or, more pertinent to this example, may lack - about God. Similarly, while I may have a sense experience which causes a belief in divine revelation, I needn't infer my belief in divine revelation from a belief about my senses. So if, after a causal process consisting of the examination of textual variants, you believe something to have been divinely revealed, that doesn't require you to epistemically ground your belief regarding the content of divine revelation on a belief about that causal process. Again, I would argue a belief about that or any causal process is itself infallibly defensible only by ultimately appealing to special divine revelation.

That doesn't mean the causal process is irrelevant to your belief. If we have a belief that certain causal processes track truth better than others, it makes sense to position ourselves and those around us to more often experience the better kinds of causal process. If I want you to know about the Grand Canyon, I may talk to you about it or show you a picture of it, but I wouldn't shut your eyes or close your ears while I did those things. I think sense experiences often cause true beliefs. If I want you to know a truth, and if I believe there is a kind of experience which may be useful in producing a true belief, I'll do what I can to help you experience that.

I believe the above illustration provides a fair analogy of how I think we can regard at least one goal of textual criticism. There are textual variants among what copies of Scripture we have. Some do not affect the meaning of a passage. Some are evidently the result of mistranslation. Some are more significant in implication - the variants may affect the meaning of a passage, or they may exhibit disagreement with other texts about whether a passage is even canonical. Thus, 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... (link)

In short, the aim of an internalist theory of knowledge is to explain how we may have “justification” in terms of full assurance. An externalist theory of knowledge cannot explain how one may have “justification” in terms of full assurance - but as long as we don’t need “justification” in terms of full assurance for everyday, unconsciously formed beliefs such as “I'm reading a blog post,” that’s okay. 

The aim of an externalist theory of knowledge is to explain how it is possible that everyday, unconsciously formed beliefs such as “I'm reading a blog post” can be the result of a truth-tracking process and, in that context, count as legitimately “justified.” An internalist theory of knowledge (at least of the infallibilist variety) cannot explain how it is possible that everyday, unconsciously formed beliefs such as “I'm reading a blog post” can be the result of a truth-tracking process and, in that context, count as legitimately “justified” - but as long as we don't need “justification” in such terms for beliefs about which we can have full assurance, that's okay.

Now, the only way we could unconsciously track truth is by nature; if something happens unconsciously, it happens involuntarily (e.g. breathing). As you’ve read this post, you've perhaps been caused to form a [dispositional] belief that “I'm reading a blog post,” a belief that is formed apart from a syllogistic process of reasoning. This happens many times throughout the day. We don't always reason from premises to conclusions, because we don't always form beliefs by tracing them back to axioms or foundations. We often form [dispositional] beliefs without even being aware of it. 

Analogous to the way in which God created us with an obligation to obey him, God may also have created Adam - as morally upright and very good - with a tendency to track truth (even unconsciously). Just as a correct theory of ethical obligation is rooted in a correct ontology, a correct theory of how our beliefs may be causally formed is rooted in a correct ontology. 

Thus, in this context, metaphysics may inform an externalist theory of knowledge without conflating the two. After all, by definition, knowledge involves beliefs (a metaphysical truth). So if we allow that what enables us to track truth is something external to us, then as I mention above in the context of textual criticism, it might be helpful to learn what kinds of actions seem to cause belief in truth. 

Of course, while Adam remained ethically obligated to God after the fall, Adam's (and our) capacity to track truth has been hindered by our sinfulness. Ultimately, this inhibition can only be overcome by the (external!) movement of the Spirit to indwell us. 

Nevertheless, even unbelievers have the ability to track true beliefs (e.g. Mark 15:44-45), even if they cannot have conscious, internalist, infallible justification for them. Since the Spirit works in the hearts of unbelievers by means of Christians He has already indwelt, it is still incumbent upon us to think about what we can do to work in the lives of unbelievers to lead them to the truth. Romans 10:14-17 is a prime example of this.

Discriminating Presuppositionalism

A few days ago, a friend asked me for my thoughts on this video. 

At the outset, the author, David Pallmann, asks, 

Just what is presuppositional apologetics? It is a school of apologetics which tries to show that Christianity is true via a transcendental argument (minute 1).

Now, this is quite a narrow view of presuppositionalism, especially in light of my own criticisms (as a presuppositionalist) of other presuppositionalists who thought transcendental argumentation could conceivably enable one to reason to God (link). His classification of versions of presuppositionalism which might differ from that of Greg Bahnsen as "deviant" (minute 8) is rather restrictive. If nothing else, I hope this post illustrates that one ought to discriminate the varieties of presuppositionalist perspectives. 

Mine bears an affinity with that of Gordon Clark and does not attempt to "show" (prove?) that Christianity is true via argumentation. Any arguments Clark might have made function as a defense of Christianity; but the arguments are not meant to function as "proofs," as if God's word (Clark's foundation or axiom) could have somehow been the conclusion to a (circular?) argument. 

Many flawed criticisms of Clark by fellow believers rest on a conflation between apologetics and epistemology. See my distinction between the two here. In short, apologetics or arguments presuppose epistemology or knowledge [of the most basic premise]. The two must be kept distinct. Apologetics is subordinate to epistemology. 

Another mistake is to think Clark was a traditional coherentist. Even people who claim to follow Clark's view sometimes make this mistake. He was a foundationalist. See point 5 here. A reason people make this mistake is because Clark accepted a coherence theory of truth; while I disagree with Clark on this, the point is that a coherence theory of truth (i.e. a definition of truth) is different than coherentism in epistemology (i.e. how we come to know the truth). See here.  

At minute mark 5, David says: 

In this video, I want to explore a response that has been periodically hinted at in the literature but is never, to my knowledge, been fully developed. I intend to defend the thesis that human reasoning is autonomous.

Given that his final quote in the video is from a chapter on autonomous human reason in a book written as a challenge to presuppositionalism (free on Kindle Unlimited here, by the way), I found this quote confusing. Does he think that his video or channel fully develops a thesis Joe Depoe does not?

Regarding the idea of autonomous human reason, in 1943, Clark anticipated the idea that this might be a problem for presuppositionalists in an article he wrote for The Presbyterian Guardian (link). Clark says: 

A rational being, the liberals argue, cannot abdicate the throne of his autonomy. He cannot avoid the necessity of making the final decision, and even if he decides to abdicate, it is he who decides. Further, if he should abdicate, the question would always remain whether or not he should reascend the throne - and again it would be he who would make the decision. 

The liberal continues: Reason cannot abdicate because it must choose from among different alleged revelations. And to try to persuade a person of the truth of a revelation implies that there is a common ground of persuasion. That common ground is reason. Anyone who argues or persuades at all recognizes reason as the final court.

Is there any reply that an orthodox Christian can make without denying the principle of authority? 

The first observation is that the fact that a decision is our own does not imply that we are the final authority. If a person wishes to measure a distance, there are essentially only two ways of doing it. He may look at the distance and guess its length. This is not a very accurate method, nor does it make the guesser the final court of appeal; but it illustrates the attempt to make one's unaided reason the final court. The second method is to use an accurate measuring device such as a yardstick. In using this method, it is we, of course, who make the decision, but we appeal to the yardstick. And the second method has the advantage of being much more accurate. In such a situation, most people do not object to being bound by an external authority. 

Since all analogies have their limits, a second observation must question the matter of abdication. To abdicate a throne, it is absolutely essential first to be on the throne. A person who has never been king cannot possibly abdicate. The liberals simply assume that man is on the throne, but that is the very point at issue. If God is on the throne, and if man is not autonomous, then the liberal argument is completely irrelevant. 

A third observation is all that the present limits allow. The liberal has argued that we must choose the yardstick, one revelation among other alleged revelations, and that no doubt we seek to persuade others of the truth of the revelation we have chosen. But to persuade is to appeal to the common ground of reason. 

This very plausible argument is obtained only by misunderstanding the implications of supernaturalism. To convict supernaturalism of inconsistency, it is necessary to represent it accurately. The plausibility of the objection to orthodox Christianity results from combining a supernatural view of revelation with a purely naturalistic view of persuasion. And the result is easily shown to be inconsistent. But if persuasion and revelation both are understood supernaturally, no inconsistency can be found. For, be it observed, there is no such thing as a common ground between the Christian and a nonchristian system. From a, world naturalistically conceived, one cannot argue to the God of the Christians. From a world-view that denies all revelation, one cannot produce a Biblical revelation. Persuasion therefore is not an appeal to a common ground or to a nonchristian reason. Persuasion must be regarded as a supernatural work of the Holy Spirit. The true Christian presents the Christian faith to unbelievers, he explains it and shows it in its fullness. Then the Christian prays that the Holy Spirit regenerate, his auditor, renew his mind, and enable him to see the truth of what has been said. This is not an appeal to experience, or to reason, or to a common ground; it is an appeal to the sovereign God of the universe.

Around minute 10, David says: 

By assumptions and presuppositions, I mean beliefs that are taken to be true apart from independent non-circular justification. In other words, I reject the idea that there are any beliefs that must be accepted without a justifying reason. 

I found this confusing too, since David elsewhere claims to be a foundationalist. The above quote appears to be a form of infinitism (link), not foundationalism. Unless I am misunderstanding him, his statement is not consistent with the rest of his video. 

At minute 12:20, David cites Timothy and Lydia McGrew: 

...to claim that there can be genuine epistemic principles that although rationally dubitable cannot be defended against someone who is skeptical about them is to allow an indefensible proposition to have epistemic weight. 

I had to read my own copy of that book for some context. The context is this: "Regardless of whether... a proposition is true, if it really is indefensible, it cannot be used as a premise to justify belief in anything else. If it is indefensible, it is epistemically irrelevant" (Internalism and Epistemology, pg. 80).

The question seems to be whether indefensible propositions can have epistemic weight (positive epistemic status). David blows by this question very quickly - too quickly (at this point) to allow for the nuance necessary to address the question. 

For instance, let's start with this: do axioms/foundations have positive epistemic weight? Well, a foundationalist had better say that in certain cases (i.e. God's word), "Yes, we can know axioms without having to defend them." There is positive epistemic weight regardless of whether we attempt to defend them. If God's word is our axiom and we can't know our axiom, then we are in trouble (this position is known as positism; link). 

Now, does the above mean that it is impossible to defend axioms/foundations? In one sense, yes; in another no. The epistemic justification of an axiom/foundation is not determined by a prior reason, premise, etc. For a foundationalist - as was alluded to above - the positive epistemic status must be intrinsic to the truth of the axiom/foundation itself. I interact with contemporary epistemologists on this very point here and here. 

On the other hand, it is possible to "apologetically" defend one's axiom/foundation. What does this mean? It means that in everyday conversations with others, one can point out that his axiom/foundation coheres with that which is derivable from it, that it answers important questions, etc. It is in this sense that we can understand Clark's affirmation that: "by the systems they produce, axioms must be judged." 

A self-defeating axiom cannot be defended (or known), whereas a self-consistent axiom can be defended insofar as the claims of its adherent can be harmonious, although we should not say we know said axiom by means of this or any other such defense. 

In other words, I agree with his denial around minute 13 of any attempt to circularly justify a knowledge-claim. I (and Clark) reject traditional coherentism, since it would be impossible to discriminate between circles without a foundational principle (like John Frame's foundational principle about the different between "narrow" and "broad" circles at minute 14; how could Frame say one is better than the other without assuming axiomatically that there is a difference in desirability?). 

As an aside, it's a bit funny that if Van Tilians defend traditional coherentism, then Clark's presuppositionalism is somehow "deviant." One would think that the very name of "presupposition"alism would more closely associate with foundationalism, not coherentism. 

Anyways, the point is that apologetic defenses of axioms/foundations are practical and persuasive, not epistemic. I put it this way in a post I have elsewhere said (link) I am planning to write in response to an article by Dan Kemp (link), whom David cites at minute 14:40:

When a mom calls a child to dinner, she doesn’t need to identify who she is for the child to "know" who is calling. If she did identify herself, such self-attestation ("Ryan Hedrich, your mom is calling you!") wouldn’t be "needed"... but it also wouldn’t be unreasonable. Self-attestation might serve as a reminder to the child to take her words seriously. Aside from questions of knowledge, such reminders might have a psychological or pragmatic purpose (e.g. behavior reinforcement, mindfulness).

Apologetics or defenses of our axioms can be useful in terms of being means by which the Spirit convicts the hearts of others without thereby becoming premises or reasons by which we somehow circularly know the axioms/foundations. Indeed, our methods for apologetic defenses ought themselves to be derivable from our axiom/foundation (e.g. 1 Peter 3, Acts 17, etc.). 

One final point. A phrase that David cites which caught my eye is "rationally dubitable." If David is talking about principles that are open to rational doubt and whether these can be defended in the face of a skeptic, he seems to suggest that if the answer is no, there is a problem. But if I am understanding him correctly, I don't see the problem? If something is "open to doubt" (dubitable), of course it is possible a skeptic is going to doubt it. In fact, some skeptics will even claim to doubt even those things which are indubitable, such as the revelation or promises of God. Just because we can't prove to the skeptic that God's word is God's word (or would David claim to be able to do this?) does not mean there is a problem - nor does it mean that our axiom/foundation is "rationally dubitable" after all. On this point, the problem with the skeptic is ethical. He refuses to submit to the self-justifying truth of God's word. 

Maybe I am misunderstanding what David means by a "defense" - or maybe I am misunderstanding something else But this is why it is important to provide some nuance to statements and quotes of other authors. Instead, David skips quickly to the claim that he sees no other way forward than to vindicate deduction and induction. That is much too fast a conclusion. If it isn't a non sequitur, then at the very least, I couldn't follow his reasoning. 

At around 18:30, David distinguishes between "self-justifying" beliefs and "immediately justified" beliefs. He thinks the former implies justificatory circularity (traditional coherentism) and the latter implies foundationalism. I disagree with his definitions, and so do contemporary epistemologists - see here, where Jeremy Fantl refers to "self-justifying" reasons or beliefs in the context of foundationalism. But to be clear, I also reject justificatory circularity. 

I've read Fumerton's work. I actually quite like him. I gave a former student his introductory book on epistemology. At the same time, I don't agree with everything Fumerton says (link). And I suspect that the idea of "direct acquaintance" (which David gets from Fumerton) might be another area of disagreement. He says: 

Direct acquaintance with correspondence between truth-bearer and truth-maker ensures that the belief is justified and infallibly so... Direct acquaintance is not itself a belief but it relates a subject to a fact in such a way that the subject is aware of the correspondence between his thought and the fact that makes it true. 

Notice what is being argued: justification for beliefs depends on "acquaintance." But "acquaintance" is not itself a belief. Well, if "acquaintance" is not a belief, can "acquaintance" be a truth-bearer? If it can't, then how is it that "acquaintance" can "ensure" the justification of beliefs? Can that which does not bear a truth-value function as a justification for that which does? 

In other words, what does it even mean to say that direct acquaintance can "ensure" justification? That sounds suspiciously like saying that acquaintance is itself a logically distinct and preceding justificatory condition for one's belief(s) - a reason. But this would undermine the David's claim to be a foundationalist. 

Relatedly, a topic in contemporary epistemology is how something without that is neither true nor false - say, a sensory experience qua experience - could function as a justification for the truth or falsity of a proposition[al belief]. This seems to be a directly relevant question, for David goes on to say: "...one can be immediately justified through direct perceptual awareness..." 

Notice the word "perceptual" (and see his headache example at minute 21 and his direct reference to sensation at 21:30). Recall every Clarkian argument against empirical knowledge (link). He even admits that one's sensations may not correspond to external states of affairs (but attempts to suggest that our beliefs regarding our private experiences are not open to question - this move doesn't work insofar as David later admits to holding to fallibilism, contrary to his above statement that direct acquaintance can ensure "infallible" justification, on which see below). 

In short, his reply to possible objections at minute 22 is dismissive and avoidant. He responds to an easy objection while failing to address more difficult ones (how is "direct acquaintance" able to function as justification). This is a meta-epistemic concern, but meta-epistemology has direct relevance to normative epistemology. Analogously, infinitism is a meta-epistemic position on the structure of epistemic justification. If infinitism is inherently problematic, an infinitist does not actually know anything by the structure he claims is correct. If "direct acquaintance" is inherently problematic, a direct acquantaincist does not actually know anything by "direct acquaintance" (so-called).

This gets a little deep, but here is another question David fails to entertain: while I agree that there is a correspondence between truths and other realities - I reject the idea that everything is metaphysically reducible to [sets of] propositions - does that mean non-propositional realities (like my body) are truth-makers (like propositions about my body)? 

As a Reformed Christian, I rather think that God is the truth-maker of all propositions. In particular, it is He who determined the truth-values of contingent propositions in accordance with His eternal decree. As such, it's possible that the truths God has eternally decreed may, in some way, actually be means by which non-propositions (like my body, which is not eternal) are made. For a probably clearer idea of what I'm getting at, read this article by Clark in which he writes: "when compared with verses in the Pentateuch the words strongly suggest that the visible world came from a suprasensible, ideal world."

Moving ahead to minute 26: "Knowledge does not require certainty." Three questions: 

1) Is David certain of this? If not, wouldn't such an admission be problematic in the possible case that certainty actually is required for one's beliefs to count as knowledge (a possibility which I don't understand how he could rule out non-arbitrarily)? 

2) I thought that David earlier said, "Direct acquaintance with correspondence between truth-bearer and truth-maker ensures that the belief is justified and infallibly so..." What happened? When is and is not infallibility applicable to one's beliefs? 

3) If knowledge does not require certainty, then what does it mean to say that any beliefs are "justified"? 

Around 30:30, David shows the three potential responses to Aristotle's transcendental argument for the laws of logic. They are ones I've encountered and thought about before. In response, I will offer three counters: 

1. David basically says that "Aristotle might be right that one must think in accordance with the laws of logic, but that this doesn't establish anything is true." In response, two questions: 1) What is the David's alethiology (theory of truth)? Perhaps one's alethiology (which might entail consistency amongst true propositions) would entail that in accordance with said theory, the laws of logic cannot be false. He somewhat gets around to this at minute 37. 2) If David acknowledges that one cannot speak without first assuming the laws of logic, then his own response admittedly presupposes the laws of logic. But in that case, is it legitimate to use that which he might purport to reject? Is it legitimate to admit that a hilltop (truth) can only be reached by climbing a ladder (the laws of logic) and then from said hilltop deny that he ever used a ladder? Ironically, in another video David makes against presuppositionalists, he cites a "magic 8-ball" illustration that it seems he himself falls prey to here. 

2. David's response to Aristotle certainly isn't a persuasive response. But that's how I interpret a correctly oriented defense of the laws of logic in the first place: again, a defense or apologetic needn't be interpreted as a circular justification. 

3. David's reference to dialetheism returns us to the question of alethiology. This is probably the strongest counter he raises (then again, he addresses his own concerns by providing a very good quote at 38:55 which undercuts dialetheim). I needn't say much more, since David denies dialetheism himself (44:45ff.).

Nevertheless, I will offer a few more thoughts. In particular, are there some cases in which the law of noncontradiction do not hold? Typically, a dialetheist will not be a trivialist; he will not suggest that every pair of contradictories can be or are true (which is subject to the principle of explosion). 

Underlying this theory, then, seems the assumption of alethic particularism: rather than start with a broad, theory of truth (e.g. consistency among propositions which may correspond to kinds of realities), we might start with what we consider are intuitive and particular examples of truths - some of which might consist of contradictories which can both be "true" - and attempt to form a resultant theory of truth (such as dialetheism) with these examples in mind. 

While I would like to flesh an argument against dialetheism further than I am able at present, given the above, one possible line of argument against it and its implicit alethic particularism could perhaps be made along the same lines as I have made against epistemic particularism (in isolation from epistemic methodism) here.  

This is probably a more important point than I can emphasize here, for repeatedly in the video, David often uses paradigm cases to defend his position. For example, at minute 36:10, he uses an particular example that he assumes his audience will agree is justified to defend a broader methodological principle. That is, in appealing to his audience's intuitions, he appears to be a particularist, and if he is not, he does not sufficiently distance himself from particularism; a quote around minute 52 might obliquely allude to it, but even there, not enough context in the quote is provided to even understand its purpose. 

With the above in mind, can logic justify logic? No. Again, circularity is not the structure of epistemic justification. In other words, we do not know anything by reasoning in a circle. As I've mentioned before, though, we can still make arguments for propositions we know non-inferentially or foundationally. These arguments do not justify said foundations but can function to persuade others [especially that alternatives to our view are non-viable]. 

The laws of logic in particular are embedded within the Scripturalist's foundation as a subsidiary, ontological precondition for knowledge, as I argue here and here. Thus, our knowing them is, in conjunction with our knowledge of God's revelation, immediate or non-inferential.  

I don't have much further to say about his discussion on analyticity, except to note that he doesn't think he needs to explain how we have them "so long as we do" (minute 26:30). Well, does he have concepts? If the answer is potentially "no," that is a serious problem. 

But as I said in an earlier post, God's word is not rationally dubitable. The problem the skeptic has is one of ethical rebellion (which affects his ability to reason soundly, not his ability to reason validly per se a la Clark). 

David's part of the video on induction was extremely weak. He did not address the question of what number of observable cases would suffice for epistemic justification. He does not address what constitutes a "large sample." The concept of "large" is finite and therefore relative. As one might approach infinitely many observations, any concrete number of observations is infinitesimally small by comparison... in which case, is not an inductivist's epistemic justification (and "confidence" therein) virtually (as well as really) non-existent? This is a much more difficult issue than David intimates. 

In my opinion, the best one can expect on this topic is doxastic defendability. A Scripturalist (and only a Scripturalist, insofar as any kind of "defenses" are parasitic upon internalist and infallibilist "knowledge") might be able to defend his extra-Scriptural beliefs to the extent that they conform to his alleged experiences (this would be inductive), but he must also be open to revising such beliefs in the case of alleged defeaters, e.g. experiences which do not conform to what he has experienced previously. This theory only would apply to extra-Scriptural information, and it would not qualify as strict epistemic justification (although we might also colloquially refer to any such beliefs as "known"). 

Another reason the response to the problem of induction was weak was because David only went so far as to address Hume's skepticism. Clark's concerns regarding induction - as an anti-empiricist - deserved more attention than Hume's. 

My friend mentioned that he thought David is an evidentialist. In his last part of the video, I can see why: he says as much. In particular, at 1:00:50, he cites an author who says, "the epistemic justification of a belief is determined by the quality of the believer's evidence for the belief." Again, I am confused how such a view can be consistent with foundationalism. If foundations do not rely on evidence, then one's justification for one's foundational beliefs cannot fall within the realm of an evidentialist theory. David appears plainly inconsistent on several points. 

David concludes, "...the Christian [presuppositional] apologist tries to gerrymander the rules of epistemology..." 

I had a good chuckle at this! Still, I enjoyed the video insofar as I'm glad to see professed Christians engaging in contemporary epistemological issues. I agreed with him regarding foundationalism, the resolvability of paradoxes, and some other points. I wouldn't want my above responses to be taken as suggesting his videos are valueless, only that, as with anyone (Clark and myself included), one must wisely apply discrimination where appropriate.

Gary North on Gordon Clark

A fellow church member recently loaned me a copy of Crossed Fingers, by Gary North. This is the first book by North that I have read, and I can't recall a history book that I found more enjoyable than this one. It chronicles how the PCUSA declined into liberalism. Originally written in 1996, it outlines questions and considerations still relevant to contemporary Presbyterians and contemporary Presbyterianism. Any further recommendation would be admittedly generic, for I don't intend to review the 1,000+ page book here. I do recommend it, though. It is not faultless - for a balanced review, see here - but it is engaging, thoughtful, and challenging. 

At the time he wrote this book, North seems to have espoused Van Til and Rushdoony (North's father-in-law) as the foremost Presbyterian apologists of the twentieth century. A few comments in the book pertained to Gordon Clark, and I can't resist a thought or two on them:

In 1955, a book was published with the title, What Presbyterians Believe. I can think of no book with a more misleading title, given its date of publication. It was a study of the Westminster Confession of Faith (1647). It was written by a Calvinist minister, theologian, and philosopher, Gordon H. Clark. Clark was a member of the United Presbyterian Church of North America, which three years later would merge with the far larger mainline denomination, the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA), at which time Clark left the denomination. The United Presbyterian Church in 1955 was drifting into liberalism. It had been dabbling with liberalism for a quarter of a century. It had initiated discussions on a possible merger with the larger denomination in 1930, but then had voted not to follow through after the PCUSA voted for the plan in 1934. It was obvious in 1930 that the PCUSA's liberals had brought the conservatives under control. Nevertheless, from 1948 to 1958, Clark subordinated himself to the jurisdiction of men who did not believe in Calvinism, and who proved it in 1958 when they voted to join the PCUSA. Had Clark been more honest in selecting a title for his book, he would have called it What a Handful of Presbyterians Believe, or What Presbyterian Officers Swear They Believe, But Rarely Do, or even What Presbyterians Believe in the Small Denomination I Abandoned as Hopeless in 1948 When I Joined This One. But he didn't. Instead, he pretended in public that he was not a minority voice, that he was not under the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of Presbyterians who did not believe. In this, he was not alone. 

Today, there are millions of confessionally faithful but ecclesiastically compromised Church members and thousands of compromised pastors who are in a condition similar to Clark's in 1955. (pgs. xv-xvi)

This is over the top. Given that the UPCNA (of which Clark became a member after his departure from the OPC in 1948) did not vote to merge with the PCUSA in 1934, I would have liked for North to expand upon his reasons for stating that the men of the UPCNA "did not believe in Calvinism" during the time Clark was a member. I gather North means the UPCNA was drifting towards liberalism in an inevitable manner; otherwise, a merger never would have occurred. Even if this assumption were true, North seems to further assume Clark was aware of such when he joined the UPCNA. But hindsight is easier than foresight. 

Additionally, would North have considered Machen an "ecclesiastically compromised Church member" while Machen remained a member of the PCUSA until the mid-1930s, long after the PCUSA "had been dabbling with liberalism for a quarter of a century" (at the very least, according to North)? Did not Machen subordinate himself "to the jurisdiction of men who did not believe in Calvinism"? Would North say that Machen "pretended in public that he was not a minority voice"? If asked these questions, North may very well have acknowledged Machen was susceptible to these analogous criticisms. For example, North does not spare criticism of Machen for the latter's rejection of 6 day creationism. 

The point, though, is that North's framing is selective. The book provides plenty of context and understanding for Machen's actions; in the above quote, no qualifying context is spared for Clark. No mention is given as to why Clark left the OPC in the first place (e.g. chapter 8 of Doug Douma's bibliography; cf. John Robbins' account that Clark "would have preferred to stay in the OPC"). No suggestion is given as to why Clark might have chosen the UPCNA (e.g. the UPCNA was the denomination in which Clark's grandfather ministered).

Is it more misleading for a Presbyterian minister in the UPCNA which had rejected a merger with the PCUSA to write a book about What Presbyterians Believe? (Clark) or more misleading for a Christian who accepted liberalist presuppositions in an increasingly liberal PCUSA denomination to write a book on Christianity and Liberalism (Machen)? This is less a shot at Machen and more a shot through North's slight of Clark.

In fact, North was a Presbyterian himself. It is my understanding is that he died last year as a member of the PCA - the same denomination which Clark opposed an RPCES merger with in the early 1980s (link). Was Clark less scrupulous than North... or more? In this book, North never asked - let alone answered - whether he considered himself a "compromised Church member." From North's concluding proposals (pgs. 931-935), it is hard to imagine he thought any Christian - including himself - could have been a consistent, Bible-believing Christian without being "ecclesiastically compromised." Whose fingers aren't crossed? 

[Funnily enough, while I haven't read anything else by North, I would not put it past him to have intended to provoke this question. An evident purpose of this book is to prompt Presbyterians to self-reflect on the current state of ecclesiastic affairs, including Presbyterian governmental structure, membership qualifications, confessional progress (with fidelity), and priorities. With respect to these questions, I take no issue with North raising them. Several of his proposed answers seem sensible, albeit distantly achievable in the short-term. All I am pointing out is North's assessment of Clark's actions is unreasonably cursory and uncharitable.]

The following is the only other time Clark is mentioned in North's book:

Schaeffer took Van Til's apologetic method, which Van Til had taught him at Westminster, and the philosophy of Gordon Clark, which was a common-ground rationalistic system, and reworked them into a partially presuppositional, partially Clarkian-logical hybrid. Never did he footnote Van Til in any of his books. For that matter, neither did he footnote Clark. When asked in 1968, "Where did your husband get all this?" Mrs. Schaeffer offered a long, rambling disquisition about his discussions with "existentialists, logical positivists, Hindus, Buddhists, liberal Protestants, liberal Roman Catholics, Reformed Jews and atheistic Jews, Muslims, members of occult cults, and people of a wide variety of religions and philosophies, as well as atheists of a variety of types." This went on for two pages. 

The hybrid nature of his apologetic method made it difficult for him to come to grips with the idea of the common ground between believer and unbeliever. Van Til argued that the common ground or point of contact is the image of God in man. Covenant-breaking man knows that he is a covenant-breaker. Clark argued that it is common logic: the principle of non-contradiction. Schaeffer was more Clarkian than Vantillian. This made him more susceptible to the idea that Christians might have a positive influence on non-Christians even though Christians must remain as minority participants. Somehow, Christians can argue their way into the dialog. Van Til, as an amillennialist, had no illusions in this regard. He expected increasing persecution for the Church as each side becomes increasingly consistent with its presuppositions. This is certainly more consistent with Schaeffer's premillennial belief that the Great Tribulation lies ahead of us, and the Church will go through it. Historic premillennialists generally share this eschatological belief with amillennialists.

Firstly, I might as well point out that Clark himself did not think Schaeffer even qualified as a philosopher, much less one whose thought aligned with Clark's own:

These notes, however, are only a semi-defense of Francis Schaeffer. If I were criticizing him, I should first say that he is not a philosopher at all. To be sure, he discusses certain philosophical problems, but he omits so much that he does not deserve the title. In fact, I rather guess that he admits that he is not a philosopher. His great work lies in other fields, particularly the field of evangelism. And there are others who discuss more of philosophy than he does and still omit a great deal. It is not enough to state that the doctrine of the Trinity solve the one-many problem. One must state what the problem is and show just how the Trinity solves it. It is not enough to assert the trustworthiness of sensory experience in an attempt to avoid skepticism. One must define sensation, prove that there are uninterpreted elements in the mind, show how these can be combined into perceptions, and then develop concepts without assuming, what is factually false, that all men have sensory images. Besides which, one much choose from among Plato's, Aristotle's, and Kant's theories of individuation, or produce a further alternative. Schaeffer is not the only one who omits these essential elements in a philosophy. (link)

Secondly, Clark did emphasize "that the common ground or point of contact is the image of God in man." In chapter 4 of Karl Barth's Theological Method ("Prolegomena and Apologetics"), Clark spends 17 pages on the following subsections: "Common Ground" and "God's Image to Man." Any writer who fails to see that Clark linked the common ground a believer has with an unbeliever to the image of God indicates they have not read Clark:

It is indubitable that the heathen and the believer have this knowledge in common.

Although indubitable, Barth doubts and denies it. In addition to the passages so far examined, others, perhaps not independently important, corroborate Barth’s rejection of a common ground. Since the idea of the image of God is uniformly conjoined with that of a common ground, the latter vanishes with the removal of the former...

The point of interest is a common ground between believer and unbeliever. In spite of his aim Barth has not succeeded in erasing a common ground; at most his argument denies that the image consists of rational personality and asserts that it consists in being a witness.

...Barth rules out a common ground by denying the image of God in man... (pgs. 105-107 in above link)

Regarding Van Til, North says, "Van Til argued that the common ground or point of contact is the image of God in man. Covenant-breaking man knows that he is a covenant-breaker. Clark argued that it is common logic: the principle of non-contradiction. Schaeffer was more Clarkian than Vantillian." North obviously intends to contrast Clark and Van Til. 

But how can an unbelieving man "know" that he is a covenant-breaker without using the principle of non-contradiction (even if he is unaware that he is using it)? Did North think that the knowledge that a covenant-breaker possesses is possible or intelligible without the principle of non-contradiction? 

Of course, anyone who has read Clark would also know that to argue an unbeliever is able to exercise logic does not mean the unbeliever does so soundly. Even if the reasoning of unbelievers can be valid (and it can be) and even if unbelievers can have meaningful, true thoughts (and they can - this is one sense in which unbelievers can be said to have "knowledge"), unbelievers ultimately reason from false premises. Whatever knowledge unbelievers possess, their reasoning is unsound, all of which enables believers to have an apologetic point of contact with unbelievers. As I address all of these points here, I digress.

Finally, for all of North's footnotes throughout the rest of his book, his section on Schaeffer, Van Til, and Clark was a let down. He does not give a citation for Van Til's belief that "Covenant-breaking man knows that he is a covenant-breaker." On the other hand, Clark did give citations for Van Til's statement that "It will be quite impossible then to find a common area of knowledge between believers and unbelievers unless there is agreement between them as to the nature of man himself. But there is no such agreement" (link). Contra North, is this not to say that Van Til believed that covenant-breaking man cannot know anything regarding himself? I 

Nearly 10 years ago, I advocated the following (link):

My opinion: if Scripturalism is to have a bright future, Scripturalists need to start talking to and about people with opposing views that fall between the extremes of materialistic, empiricistic, skeptical atheism on the one hand, and Van Tilianism on the other. More often than not, that doesn't seem to be the case. In addition to explicating Scripturalism beyond the introductory level of, say, Crampton's Scripturalism of Gordon H. Clark - again, there's nothing wrong with introductory material, but at some point a position has to adapt to new challenges or be abandoned - that's a lot of uncovered ground.

I do still believe this. However, my research on Clark has required me to spend more time on church history and less time on philosophical theology. As this has been the case, over time, I have become more sympathetic with those who are constantly irritated by poor misrepresentation of Clark's thought. Such misrepresentation is pervasive; North is just one example of an educated writer who should have known better than to make there kinds of ill-informed critiques.  

Nevertheless, I hope like-minded readers remember that there is much good in North's book and much in need of improvement in Clark's thought. One Christian's admiration of another ought to be measured in proportion to the latter's agreement with Scripture. Let us not catch ourselves crossing our fingers as we affirm that in this life, all Christians - Clark's included - were and are progressively sanctified.