Book Review: Scripturalism and the Senses (Part 8)

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

What Counts as Knowledge?

The stated purpose of the chapter is to answer what one can one know and what counts as knowledge. Mr. Lazar's first subsection in the chapter is called "Clark and Scripturalism on Knowledge and Opinion" (emphasis mine), yet he begins the section with a remarkable admission: he "wasn’t able to find a clear statement by Clark of what he considered to be knowledge." Therefore, Mr. Lazar instead quotes Crampton for his understanding of what knowledge is. 

If Mr. Lazar wanted to evaluate his own philosophy in light of Crampton's thoughts, I would completely understand why he is cited so often in the book. But that Clark's name is in the header implies Mr. Lazar still desires to follow his original intention of the book, "a work of constructive 'Clarkian' thought" (emphasis mine). At some point, it becomes difficult to accept that Mr. Lazar is really comparing his philosophy to Clark's. There is overlap between Clark and Crampton, and I do not wish to imply Mr. Lazar is being deceptive. However, as a reviewer, it is frustrating to untangle to whom Mr. Lazar is really directing some of his replies.

Additionally, what Clark has written about "knowledge" doesn’t appear to satisfy Mr. Lazar, who wants to stick to what the Bible means by the word. This is an understandable goal. However, since the Bible attests to its own truth, there is nothing wrong with, say, apagogically reasoning about what ideas about "knowledge" must be true in order for Biblical consistency to be maintained. This is what I think Clark often did. 

Anyways, there are plenty of places in his published works in which Clark wrote about "knowledge" of which Mr. Lazar doesn't seem to be aware (link). I don't think Clark's epistemology can be given a proper evaluation if one isn't able to establish that with which Clark was concerned. To give three examples:

1) 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, 1983, pg. 166) 

2) If a system has no starting point, it cannot start, nicht? But a starting point cannot have been deduced or based on something prior to the start, for nothing is prior to the start n’est-ce pas? Every system, therefore, every attempted system, must have an original, undeduced axiom. Our dear friend Aristotle noted this, for he argued that if all propositions had to be deduced, they would regress to infinity, with the result that nothing could be deduced. 

Since even Communism cannot prevent one from choosing whatever principle seems best to him, the Christian will choose the God of truth, or, if one prefer, the truth of God. He then proceeds by deduction, that is, by the law of contradiction, for the law of contradiction is embedded in the first word of Genesis. Bereshith, in the beginning, does not mean half-way through. That is to say, Scripture throughout assumes the law of contradiction, viz., a truth cannot be false. Since deduction is necessary inference, no further deduction – let alone induction – can disprove what has already been proved. Accordingly the knowledge possible for human beings consists of the axioms of and the deductions from Scripture. We can indeed entertain opinions about Columbus, and by accident or good luck they may be true; but we could not know it. Our dear pagan Plato, at the end of his Meno (98b) declared, "That there is a difference between right opinion and knowledge (ōrtheme) is not at all a conjecture with me, but something I would particularly assert that I knew." (Lord God of Truth, 1994, pg. 40) 

3) There is a story that at the birth of Louis XIV, Marie de Medici gave birth to twins. Father Joseph wrote a not to Richelieu, who imposed perpetual silence on the midwife. But a Spanish plotter picked up the discarded not and kidnapped the second twin. After training the younger twin, and after Richelieu’s death, the Spaniard managed to catch Louis XIV alone, put him in the Iron Mask, and the twin reappeared as Louis XIV. 

Granted, it is unlikely that anyone should go to such extremes to substitute another woman for the wife of an unimportant theologian or philosopher. But how do you know? So long as substitution is possible, certainty is impossible. Nor is substitution the only danger. For those whose philosophic preparation rises above the level of Alexander Dumas, there are always the prior difficulties of solipsism, subjective idealism, and, let us remember, Descartes’ malignant demon, who, so potent and deceitful, has employed all his artifice to deceive us. Modern philosophers prefer to ignore rather than to confront him. 

With this result the previous question returns. What account shall be given of everyday “knowledge” that common sense thinks it silly to doubt? Don’t I know when I am hungry? Can’t I use road maps to drive to Boston or Los Angeles? Indeed, how can I know what the Bible says without reading its pages with my own eyes? It was one secular philosopher criticizing another who said that knowledge is a fact and that any theory that did not account for it should be abandoned. But all such criticisms miss the point. The status of common opinion is not fixed until a theory has been accepted. One may admit that a number of propositions commonly believed are true; but no one can deny that many such are false. The problem is to elaborate a method by which the two classes can be distinguished. Plato, too, granted a place to opinion as distinct from knowledge; he even admitted that in some circumstances opinion was as useful as knowledge with a capital K. But to dispose of the whole matter by an appeal to road maps that we can see with our own eyes is to ignore everything said above about Aristotle. 

For one last time, therefore, we must summarize and emphasize the whole argument. Consider the philosophy of science outlined in the preceding lecture. There it was claimed and argued that experimental science produced no knowledge whatever of the processes of nature. The laboratory can devise no method for determining whether the Earth moves still while the Sun stands still or whether the Sun moves while the Earth stands still. Nor can the greatest amount of experimentation explain why two smooth pieces of marble adhere so stubbornly to each other. Neither can physics observe anything moving in a straight line. It is incorrect, therefore, to complain that the axiom of revelation deprives us of knowledge otherwise obtainable. There is no knowledge otherwise obtainable. (Clark and His Critics, Pgs. 75-76)

To summarize, the first quote shows that Clark recognized, as Mr. Lazar correctly notes, that the word "knowledge" has a semantic range that depends on the context. Later in the chapter, Mr. Lazar provides biblical examples of extra-biblical "knowledge" that I suspect Clark normally would have, if they weren't Scriptural accounts, categorized as "opinions." I think he would have done so due to an internalist constraint upon knowledge that is implicit both in the above statements (e.g. references to Descartes' demon, our ignorance of substitution as preventing us from knowing our wife, etc. are, from my readings, usually less relevant on externalist theories of knowledge, since such theories often take for granted scenarios in which what one believes is true) and others about his epistemology (link). 

What this means, however, is not that Mr. Lazar has "falsif[ied] the Scripturalist definition of knowledge" (emphasis mine). Rather, he has falsified a Scripturalist constraint upon knowledge, a constraint I have also written against elsewhere (link). This is not to diminish what Mr. Lazar has accomplished! Understanding that other kinds of “knowledge” as biblically legitimate is important. But the distinction between what Mr. Lazar has falsified and what he thinks he has falsified is also important.

Frankly, I honestly can't answer how Clark would have understood, for example, Mark 6:38, 13:28, and 15:44-45, in which people attain "knowledge" apart from divine revelation. Perhaps Clark really would have argued that the uses of "ginosko," in those cases, are examples of when the word refers to [mere] "belief," i.e. opinion, after all. If that would have been his answer, I would find it implausible. That is, if Clark set such a constraint upon "knowledge" that he would only have accepted an internalist and infallibilist form of epistemic justification, then I think he should not have done so. 

Given Clark's acceptance of a semantic range for "knowledge," maybe Clark would have had no issue with the way in which Mr. Lazar, in a later chapter, suggests how these cases can count as "knowledge." However, even if Clark is in need of correction here, as I suspect, I still think Clark is correct that the kind of "knowledge" referenced in those passages no substitute for a "basic epistemology." Why do I say that, and what does that mean for Clark?

If we look back to the bolded section of the first quote, in the context in which Clark mentions possibilities of what "knowledge" means, he mentions the failure of neo-orthodox apologetes to understand what the "basic sense" of "knowledge" is. I believe Clark's point is that "[i]n their opposition to the intellectual emphasis on truth," the neo-orthodox apologete has forgotten that his very apologetic itself presupposes "intellectualism and truth." Apologetics presupposes the sort of "knowledge" Clark had in mind.

As to what kind of "knowledge" Clark believed was needed for a "basic epistemology" and apologetics, I think he was interested, as I mentioned in the above link on meta-epistemology, in beliefs in true propositions sourced in a self-authenticating, axiomatic foundation of which one could be infallibly aware or upon one could reflect. 

I would argue that this kind of knowledge Paul tells the believers at Colossae (2:2-4) he wanted for them: "reach all the riches of full assurance of understanding and the knowledge of God's mystery, which is Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. I say this in order that no one may delude you with plausible arguments."

Keeping in mind the parallelisms of the "word[s] of God" (link, link), no apologetic can falsify a faith grounded in God's self-authenticating word, the extant extent of which is codified in the Bible. If our epistemology is grounded in divine revelation, therefore, we cannot be deluded by plausible arguments or be deceived as Adam and Eve were. They abandoned God's word as foundational. 

Instead, we must reach for a full assurance of knowledge. To be fully assured implies one is infallibly aware of the epistemic justification one has. One cannot have full assurance if he is incapable of reflecting upon his "knowledge," any other epistemic justification of it (e.g. if his knowledge is deduced), or if what he knows is capable of being false. Such incapability may have been true in Mr. Lazar's examples in Mark, in which third-persons (like Jesus or the gospel authors) are describing others coming to know certain things - those examples are compatible with an externalist view of knowledge, and I don't so constrain the semantic range of "knowledge" to eliminate such possibilities. 

But in this passage, Paul is exhorting us to reach for a first-person assurance - and this, I would argue, requires reflective access to that by which we are ourselves fully assured, i.e. a purely internalist view of knowledge. Other kinds of "knowledge" may be legitimately biblical, but I hope it is becoming more clear in what way Clark's understanding of "knowledge" can also be supported by the Bible, even if Clark himself provided no such defense or was overly restrictive in constraining that else to which "knowledge" may refer.

Furthermore, I hope it is becoming more clear as to why this understanding of "knowledge" is necessary for a "basic epistemology" and apologetics. As seen in the second and third quotes above, Clark recognized "knowledge" and "opinion" as two classes of beliefs. If one wants to reach for full assurance regarding his "knowledge," he must do as Clark writes and address "[t]he problem" of "elaborat[ing] a method by which the two classes can be distinguished." 

This is what a basic epistemology does. It answers Clark's often asked question, "how do you know?" It does not, as an externalist theory does, answer how other people might know, or how oneself might hypothetically know [if certain justificatory factors external to oneself and incapable of reflective access are present]. Rather, a "basic epistemology" enables us to be fully assured, and hence internalism and infallibilism are fundamental even if one would admit that other kinds of knowledge are legitimate. 

Moreover, apologetics - as I've mentioned many times in these reviews - is a defense of our epistemology. One must have an awareness of what one is defending: the hope within us. We may reflect and meditate on our hope, we may defend it, and indeed God calls us to do so. Just as with assurance, apologetics presupposes a first-person account of what we are defending (ideally, "knowledge").

In conclusion, Mr. Lazar's statement that "the Bible doesn't limit knowledge to what can be deduced from Biblical propositions" can be taken in one sense in which Mr. Lazar would be right and in another sense in which Mr. Lazar would be wrong. If we take Mr. Lazar to mean that in the Bible, the word "knowledge" is not itself limited to referring to one kind of belief, Clark himself recognized this in discussing the semantic range of the word. Mr. Lazar is also correct that the Bible provides case-examples of "knowledge" that are kinds of beliefs which Clark seems to preclude as possible, given what appears to me to be an implicit internalist and infallibilist constraint Clark placed upon epistemically justification. But if we take Mr. Lazar's statement to mean that "the Bible doesn't limit knowledge [that is epistemically justified in an internalist and infallibilist sense] to... Biblical propositions" and what may be deduced from biblical propositions, then I would have to disagree, given that the Bible is the extant extent of divine revelation. 

To those interested, I have written more on why I find exegesis to be yet another motivating factor for an internalist understanding of knowledge in my reply to Aquascum (linked above). Other posts in which I defend internalism and infallibilism as fundamental to Scripturalism include here, here, here, and here, as well as in a dialogue with Steve Hays (link, link, link). 

In the next part of my review, I will turn to chapter 8, which Mr. Lazar calls The Bible and Sense Knowledge.

The Resurrection of Christ and Our Justification

1 Corinthians 15:17 And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins.

As we approach Easter Sunday, I have been reviewing the nature of the atonement, particularly its nature and timing. I wrote a post along these lines several years ago (link), and while I agree with aspects of what I said there, I don't believe I did full justice to the relationship of Christ's resurrection to our atonement.

I said there that Christ's "sacrifice was completed, finished, and accepted by the Father upon His death." I don't believe that to be the case now. I believe Leviticus 16:17 has an antitype after all, that being the post-resurrection, post-ascension presentation of Himself in the holy place described by the author of Hebrews. There are a few reasons I think this.

Evidence that the presentation of Himself in the holy place as described by the author of Hebrews is post-resurrection and post-ascension is that it wasn't until Christ ascended after His resurrection that He sat at the Father's right hand (Mark 16:19, Acts 2:32-33, Romans 8:34, Ephesians 1:20, Revelation 3:21, etc.).

Christ's sitting at His Father's right hand is an event taken up by the author of Hebrews in connection with Christ's sacrificial work. Hebrews 1:3 and 10:12 say that after Christ made purification for sin or offered His once for all sacrifice, He sat down at the right hand of the Father. This sitting down signified the completion of His sacrifice, suggesting He so sat immediately after making purification or sacrificing. That would imply everything Christ did up to that point - beginning from, at least, the point of His death, but probably His incarnation too (if we're considering His unblemished life as necessary for an acceptable sacrifice), up until His resurrection-ascension and appearance in the holy place - was typified in the sacrificial ritual mentioned in Leviticus 16.

Leviticus 16:17 mentions atonement is made in the holy place on the day of atonement, and Hebrews 13:11-12 - which includes the significance of the burning of the sacrificial carcasses on the day of atonement to Christ's death - also notes that the sprinkling of the slain animal's blood on the mercy seat in the innermost part of the tabernacle is sacrificial, further connecting this part of the typical ordeal to Christ's antitypical one. So while the death of Christ is integral to the atonement, that seemingly isn't the end of the story. Protestants already recognize that Christ's obedience in life was necessary for atonement, but there is a need to incorporate His resurrection-ascension in His atoning work.

Several passages in Scripture also mention the resurrection in the context of Christ's substitutionary work:

2 Corinthians 5:15 He died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised.

Romans 4:25 who was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification.

1 Peter 1:3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,

The idea here isn't that Christ's resurrection was just a bonus, an unnecessary component of Christ's work in which we get to graciously participate because the Father decided to instantiate it rather than some other possibility. If Christ wasn't resurrected, our faith is in vain. His resurrection is part of what grounds the application of the redemptive benefits: spiritual rebirth, justification, etc. How, then?

One thing to note is that Christ's fulfillment of the day of atonement type doesn't strictly follow the temporal order of events that day, which makes sense, as Christ is both the sacrifice and He who offers the sacrifice. Hebrews 13:12 correlates Christ's death to the burning of the sacrificial carcasses. This happened after the blood of the animals was sprinkled on the mercy seat in the holy place. However, Christ's death happened before His appearance in the holy place, per Hebrews 9. So it's the essence of the type that matters, not the timing, if we are to associate Christ's resurrection-ascension with some part of the day of atonement ritual. 

Is there a part of the day of atonement ritual to which Christ's resurrection-ascension corresponds? I think so. I'm still working through it, but a natural fit seems to be the reemergence of the high priest from the holy place and/or his associates into the camp after both burning the remains of the sacrifices outside the camp (to which Christ's death explicitly corresponds) and a prototypical baptism-cleansing. 

How would this aspect of the atonement ritual connect with the resurrection-ascension? Because it is how [the people of God knew that] the sacrifice was acceptable to God, [that] the high priest rightly represented them, [that] their sins were indeed being atoned for, and [that] they could continue to depend on God's presence dwelling among them. Christ not only fulfills these same functions but, as a better mediator of a better covenant, goes beyond them to bring us to the most holy place of God's dwelling. The resurrection proved it.

Protestantism and James 2

I’ve had the same understanding of James 2 for half a dozen years, dating back to numerous discussions with Roman Catholics on facebook, long before I became interested in epistemology. I don’t usually write posts on specific passages (for a related but more general post, see here), but in the aftermath of a discussion in the comment section of a recent post by Drake Shelton (link), I think it will be useful to explain why I think James 2 is not as problematic for Protestants as its perpetual use by many Roman Catholics for that purpose might indicate. The emphasis, however, will be to examine James 2 in light of the system of Reformed theology. This includes, for example, that good works necessarily follow from saving faith, that saving faith is [efficiently] caused by grace alone, that justification before God is by [the instrument of] faith alone, and, perhaps more contentiously, that saving faith is understanding and assent to the divinely revealed propositions referred to as the gospel. That is, if James 2 can be shown to be compatible with these, the latter two of which are usually disputed – especially sola fide – then it cannot be rejected due to alleged inconsistency with Pauline or [other] canonical books.

James 2:14 What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but does not have works? Can this kind of faith save him? 

15 If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacks daily food, 

16 and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, keep warm and eat well,” but you do not give them what the body needs, what good is it? 

17 So also faith, if it does not have works, is dead being by itself. 

Obviously, a claim to faith does not necessarily mean one actually has faith. If, as Reformed theology states, saving faith necessarily yields good works, then a so-called faith which does not yield good works is a “faith” which does not save. As such, it is dead. This is not the faith of saints.

18 But someone will say, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith without works and I will show you faith by my works. 

19 You believe that God is one; well and good. Even the demons believe that—and tremble with fear.

These verses seem to set up an objection from an interlocutor, yet there is some question as to where James intends the quote to end, and this impacts the intended meaning. I think the following from the IVP New Testament Commentary Series succinctly summarizes the options and recommends the best interpretation (link):

An Anticipated Objection and Its Answer (2:18)

The objection that James anticipates presents a problem. We would expect him to propose the statements "You have deeds; I have faith" as a potential retort spoken to him; but what he writes is a reversal of these statements. Some have supposed a loss from the original text; but with no manuscript evidence to support it, this theory must remain a last resort. Others (e.g., Ropes 1916:208-14; Dibelius 1976:155-56; Laws 1980:123-24) have simply accepted James's reversal of these statements as a carelessness about how he formulates them; his primary point is to confront the false theology of separating faith and actions, regardless of which party holds which alternative. Such an explanation is possible but dangerous with any text; the first course must be to seek a reasonable explanation for a deliberately worded text. Laws, for example, admits the solution is not entirely satisfactory (1980:124). Mayor (1897:95-96) and Adamson (1976:124-25) try to solve the problem by extending the quotation through the end of 2:18 and rendering the whole verse not as an anticipated objection to 2:17 but as a further confirmation of it. This requires an understanding of will say in 2:18 as "someone may well say" and the rest of the verse as the person's argument, which James is commending to his readers.

A paraphrase of James's thought would then be: "Faith by itself is dead. In fact, someone could properly say, `You have faith, and I have deeds. Show me your faith apart from deeds, and I will show you my faith by deeds.' "This solution is possible grammatically and attractive because of the consistency it provides for James's use of the pronouns. However, it is too forced, not only because of the sense it requires of the verb will say but also because it attempts to reverse the whole first phrase (but someone will say), which in all other cases in Greek literature introduces a contrast or objection to what has preceded. Davids (1982:124) and Moo (1985:105-6) finally choose the solution accepted by Ropes, Dibelius and Laws as the most likely, acknowledging that all of the solutions to this passage have their difficulties. This does seem the best option.

In other words, James is not particular about whether any hypothetical questioner believes in faith alone or in deeds alone. Instead, James is repudiating any separation of faith and actions as if they were contradictory or even equal alternatives. He is insisting on the theological unity of the two. In 2:18 he challenges anyone to be able to claim genuine faith without the authenticating works, and he declares the only way to have genuine faith is to carry it out with deeds. He affirms the necessity of both faith and actions and says he will show the former by the latter.

In short, the following considerations outweigh the more abstract question of why the interlocutor says “You have faith and I have works” rather than “You have works and I have faith” – it is apparent in 2:20 that James does, in fact, have in mind someone who would object to 2:14-17. Given the connection between this objector in 2:18 and the remarks about a dead faith in the previous verses, it would be odd if it were the objector who challenged, “Show me your faith without works and I will show you faith by my works.” Now, if James were to have said this in response to an objector who is illegitimately dichotomizing faith from works (or vice versa), however, the point is clear: one’s claim to faith must be shown by the works he does.

This would also be the first indication that one intention of the author is to explain how faith can be evidenced to others [i.e. people, not God] (cf. 2:22, 24). An omniscient God does not need to see the necessary subsequent (good works) in order to know the claim to the related antecedent (saving faith) is true. For God can know our thoughts, not to mention that He Himself would have caused saving faith in the first place. We, on the other hand, in general (excluding divine revelation about particular individuals) neither have the privilege of knowing who God has decided to regenerate nor the internal mental activities of any other person, so all we have to go on is what we think we see others do outwardly, i.e. their works. That is the only means by which we can “show” another that our claim to faith is more than nominal.

Briefly, the question of how demons can be monotheists yet unsaved is answered simply: monotheism is not a sufficient condition for salvation. Belief in Christ is necessary. Because 2:19 clearly does not imply the monotheists in question possess saving faith – and, therefore, much less that they do good works – it can’t be used to object to the definition of saving faith provided above.

20 But would you like evidence, you empty fellow, that faith without works is useless? 

21 Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered Isaac his son on the altar? 

22 You see that his faith was working together with his works and his faith was perfected by works. 

23 And the scripture was fulfilled that says, “Now Abraham believed God and it was counted to him for righteousness,” and he was called God’s friend.

24 You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone. 

A few points: this last verse is usually what those who think James 2 contradicts Protestant theology hone in on. However, if the justification in question is the “vindication” (for parallel uses of justification as meaning vindication, see Matthew 11:19, Luke 10:29, Romans 3:4, etc.) of one’s claim to saving faith before men rather than before God, as 2:18 first suggests and the repeated phrase “You see” reiterates, then the point of the passage is that both faith and [good] works are required, and this is not at all inconsistent with Protestantism. 

Faith alone is not useless per se; the question is in what context it would be useless. Without the accompanying good works which should and would follow, justification of a claim to faith just isn’t possible. It is in this context that one’s “faith” without good works would be as useless as one’s “good works” without saving faith. 

The Abrahamic citations that James provides are instructive. Clearly, since the faith which produces good works is the faith which is instrumental to our salvation, reference to Genesis 15:6 and Abraham’s status in God’s sight is natural. Justification before men is related to justification before God, for the former presupposes the latter. But because what counts as evidence of belief differs between an omniscient God and men, in order for this previous Scripture to be “fulfilled,” the exemplification of his faith in Genesis 22 was necessary. Related to this point is the following quote I have produced before on this blog:

James 2:22, NT Context: The Nature of Abraham’s Faith 

“…The verb rendered by the NIV as “was made complete” (eteleiothe [from teleioo]) does not mean (despite Calvin’s support) that the actions revealed Abraham’s faith to be perfect (tetioo never has that sense); nor does it mean that works were somehow tacked onto a faith that otherwise would have been incomplete, for James’s point is that such faith does not really count at all, it is simply useless. Rather, to follow James’s argument we must recognize that although the expression teleioo linked with ek (i.e., Abraham’s faith “was made complete… [lit.] out of” works) is found nowhere else in the NT, parallels found elsewhere are illuminating. Philo tells us that Jacob “was made perfect as the result of [ek] discipline” (Agriculture 42); alternatively, he “was made perfect through [ek] practice” (Confusion 181). In other words, he grew in maturity as a result of the stresses laid on him. In Philo, however, the maturation take place in a human being. Jacob; here in James this “maturation” takes place in an inanimate object, faith. This prompts Moo (2000: 137) to suggest that the closest conceptual parallel is 1 John 4:12: “if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete [teteleiomene estin] in us.” Transparently, God’s love is not somehow lacking something, intrinsically deficient, until we love one another; rather, “God’s love comes to expression, reaches its intended goal, when we respond to his grace with love toward others. So also, Abraham’s faith, James suggests, reaches its intended goal when the patriarch did what God was asking him to do” (Moo 2000: 137)…”

That is, the explanation of the phrase “faith was perfected by works” has to do with a teleological end of faith, not an alleged insufficiency of [saving] faith alone to function in any capacity whatsoever.

25 And similarly, was not Rahab the prostitute also justified by works when she welcomed the messengers and sent them out by another way? 
26 For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead.

Some attempt to push analogy between body:spirit and faith:works too far. Surely the idea that one is not spiritually alive until he does good works is going too far. Likewise, if spirits can be without bodies (2 Corinthians 12:2), does that also imply one can do good works apart from faith? Analogies have limits. James is simply reiterating his previous statements: saving faith and good works go together naturally. You will either find both or neither.

When Is or Was Atonement Made?

In his exposition of Hebrews, John Owen said:

The high priest of old made atonement, and typically purged the sins of the people, by sacrificing of beasts according to the appointment of the law, Lev. xvi. This our high priest did by the sacrifice of himself, Isa. liii. 10. Heb. ix. 12. Of the nature of propitiatory or expiatory sacrifices, we must treat at large afterwards. We keep ourselves now to the apostle’s general proposition, expressing briefly the sacerdotal office of Christ, and the excellency of it, in that he really purged our sins, and that by the sacrifice of himself. And this was in and by his death on the cross, with his antecedent preparatory sufferings. Some distinguish between his death and the oblation of himself. This they say he performed in heaven, when as the High Priest of his church, he entered into the holiest not made with hands, whereunto his death was but a preparation. For the slaying of the beast, they say, was not the sacrifice, but the offering of its blood on the altar, and the carrying of it into the holy place. But this utterly overthrows the whole sacrifice of Christ, which indeed is the thing by them aimed at. It is true the slaying of the beast was not the whole sacrifice, but only an essential part of it, as was also the offering of its blood, and the sprinkling of it in the holy place, in the anniversary sacrifice of atonement, but not in any other. And the reason why the whole sacrifice could not consist in any one action, arose merely from the imperfection of the things and persons employed in that work. The priest was one thing, the beast to be sacrificed another, the altar another, the fire and the altar another, the incense added another, each of them limited and designed to its peculiar end, so that the atonement could not be made by any one of them, nor the sacrifice consist in them. But now in this sacrifice of Christ all these meet in one, because of his perfection. He himself was both priest, sacrifice, altar and incense, as we see in our progress, and he perfected his whole sacrifice at once, in and by his death and blood-shedding, as the apostle evidently declares, chap. ix. 12. 14.
 Thus by himself did Christ purge our sins, making an atonement for them by the sacrifice of himself in his death, that they should never be imputed to them that believe.

Recently, I watched a debate between James White and Robert Sungenis on whether the Mass is a propitiatory sacrifice (link). It reminded me of discussions I’ve had with Roman Catholic on this subject. I’ve spoken with Roman Catholics who have pointed out that Leviticus 16:17 says that the sacrificial ritual which [typically] made atonement for the people of Israel was incomplete until the high priest sprinkled the blood of the sacrifice in the holy of holies; Owen agrees. But they would then use this to argue that Christ’s antitypical death on the cross was a necessary but insufficient condition for our atonement, for it is clear in Hebrews 9 that Christ’s entrance into the holy of holies followed His death. You might ask why it would matter so much to Roman Catholics when atonement was or is made. Philip Hughes touches on the seeming answer here:

Another view, which is similar only in incidental respects and which is advocated in the main by Anglo-Catholic and Roman Catholic scholars, is that in the heavenly sanctuary a perpetual sacrificial offering by Christ of Himself takes place. This interpretation is commonly linked with a particular doctrine of eucharistic sacrifice taking place simultaneously here on earth. It is argued, further, on the basis of Hebrews 8:3, according to which “every high priest is appointed to offer gifts and sacrifices,” so that “it is necessary for this priest (the ascended Lord ministering in the true tabernacle, 8:1-2) also to have something to offer,” that if Christ is not offering sacrifice He cannot fulfill the priestly function, and that therefore His role in heaven must be that of a constantly sacrificing priest. Because of the emphatic teaching of the New Testament, and not least the Epistle to the Hebrews, regarding the final once-for-all character of Christ’s atoning sacrifice on the cross, it is hardly open to anyone to suggest that in heaven He offers an atoning sacrifice other than that which He offered on the cross; consequently the explanation is proposed that it is a perpetual offering of this same sacrifice that takes place in the heavenly sanctuary.

Before recently studying the subject, this used to trouble me quite a bit. The doctrinal system Roman Catholics have erected is quite intricate, and to an inexperienced Christian, a knowledgeable Roman Catholic can put a daunting amount of words to paper on pet subjects like the Eucharist.

Now, though, I find it rather ironic that some of the same Roman Catholics who argue for a strict correspondence between type and antitype also argue that the throne on which Christ is seated is an altar. Though this would need to be true for a Eucharistic sacrifice, there is never said to be an altar in the typical holy of holies. Speaking of altars, though, Hebrews does clearly use the Day of Atonement ritual as a lens through which believers can understand the import of Christ’s work:

Hebrews 13:9 Do not be carried away by all sorts of strange teachings. For it is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace, not ritual meals, which have never benefited those who participated in them.

10 We have an altar that those who serve in the tabernacle have no right to eat from. 

11 For the bodies of those animals whose blood the high priest brings into the sanctuary as an offering for sin are burned outside the camp. 

12 Therefore, to sanctify the people by his own blood, Jesus also suffered outside the camp.

While priests were usually apportioned meat to eat from a sin or purification offering, they were precluded from this rite when blood was required to be brought into the tent of meeting to make atonement (Leviticus 6:24-30). Such offerings occurred after the anointed [high (cf. Numbers 35:25)] priest or the congregation had inadvertently sinned (4:7, 18) as well as on the annual Day of Atonement (16:3, 5). Rather than being permitted to eat of these sacrifices, following the priestly ritual, the bodies of the priest’s bull and the congregations’ bull or goat were carried to and burned outside of the camp (4:12, 21, 16:27). 

  

Clearly, Christ’s suffering and abuse which the author of Hebrews intended to parallel to the sin offering is in reference to His sacrificial, bodily, bloody crucifixion, the result of which sanctifies the people. The cross corresponds to the altar of burnt offering on which sacrifices were made under the OT sacrificial system. The cross was outside Jerusalem (John 19:20), the camp.

So Christ’s sacrifice on the cross is the Christian altar from which grace can be conferred to believer-priests who eat from it. Such participation in His sacrifice is through assent to right doctrine. Thus, no spiritual benefit can come from accepting and acting upon strange teachings such as an inordinate or passé emphasis on ritual meals. Those who still serve in earthly tabernacles have forsaken the realized reality for the external shadow which merely typified it. 

This is all very interesting, but we have to be careful not to push parallels too far. There are the obvious examples: Christ needs no sacrifice for Himself, His sacrifice for those whom He functions as a priestly representative is Himself rather than some other living entity, etc. These manifest His superiority, the central theme of Hebrews. After reviewing the rites performed by the high priest under old system in the first section of chapter 9, the author of Hebrews mentions another dissimilarity:

Hebrews 9:11 But when Christ appeared as a high priest of the good things to come, He entered through the greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands, that is to say, not of this creation;

12 and not through the blood of goats and calves, but through His own blood, He entered the holy place once for all, having obtained eternal redemption. 

13 For if the blood of goats and bulls and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling those who have been defiled sanctify for the cleansing of the flesh,

14 how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without blemish to God, cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?

15 For this reason He is the mediator of a new covenant, so that, since a death has taken place for the redemption of the transgressions that were committed under the first covenant, those who have been called may receive the promise of the eternal inheritance. 

The dissimilarity with which this post is concerned is that Jesus obtained eternal redemption for those who have been called prior to His entry into the holy of holies. He offered Himself to God, a bloody sacrifice by which our consciences are cleansed so that we may on that account serve God. He made purification for sin by having offered one sacrifice for sins for all time, and He did this before He sat down at God’s right hand (1:3, 10:12). All these passages used aorist participles, on which basis Hughes notes they each convey “the same emphasis on the finality and the pastness of the unique sacrifice of Calvary. Nowhere is there any mention of a sacrifice that is prolonged in some manner or continuous in the heavenly sanctuary.” Even Hebrews 8:3, which Hughes noted Roman Catholics sometimes cite as proof that Christ must sacrifice in heaven or else He would lose His status as High Priest, uses an aorist participle; that is, the meaning is rather against the idea a perpetual [Eucharistic] offering is needed.

Thus, the throne is not an altar or mercy-seat on which Jesus must sprinkle His blood or sit in order to make atonement; Jesus Himself is the propitiatory (compare Romans 3:25 to Hebrews 9:5). That He sits down in the holy of holies – unlike the high priests of old – is conclusive evidence that far from being perpetual or ongoing, His sacrifice was completed, finished, and accepted by the Father upon His death. He now only needs to wait for what He has secured by His work to be fulfilled in due time. For by one offering He has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified:

Aaron certainly carried the sacrificial blood into the holy of holies, but our author deliberately, avoids saying that Christ carried His own blood into the heavenly sanctuary. Even as a symbolic expression this is open to objection. There have been expositors who, pressing the analogy of the Day of Atonement beyond the limits observed by our author, have agreed that the expiatory work of Christ was not completed on the cross — not completed, indeed, until He ascended from earth and “made atonement ‘for us’ in the heavenly holy of holies by the presentation of His efficacious blood.” But while it was necessary under the old covenant for the sacrificial blood first to be shed in the court and then to be brought into the holy of holies, no such division of our Lord’s sacrifice into two phases is envisaged under the new covenant.  When upon the cross He offered up His life to God as a sacrifice for His people's sin, He accomplished in reality what Aaron and his successors performed in type by the twofold act of slaying the victim and presenting its blood in the holy of holies. The title of the Anglican Article XXXI speaks rightly “of the one oblation of Christ finished upon the cross.” (F. F. Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews, pg. 213)

RC (and OC) Hermeneutics and New Eve typology

In my last post, I mentioned that RC seems prone to a radical hermeneutic. This is in no case more evident than in Marian dogma. Here is one recent example of RCs falling over themselves looking for any support for the Immaculate Conception.

I have been having a discussion with an OC who, like several RCs with whom I have dialogued on the same topic, argues that Eve was a type of Mary. Now it seems obvious to me that the church, not Mary, is the helpmate to the last Adam in the same way woman/Eve was the helpmate to the first:

//…for the Christ to be the true second Adam, He must have a true bride with which to generate children in His image… Paul regards the church as Christ’s antitypical helpmate in Ephesians 5:21-33. It sounds obvious when one thinks about it, yet the implications are profound. It was no more good that Christ should bring about the goals of the dominion mandate – goals which His work alone could effect – than it was for the first Adam to attempt to do so. The church is woman in Genesis 1-2 (Isaiah 54:5-8, John 3:29), yet a woman who will no longer be seduced by Satan’s temptations (Revelation 21:2, cf. Ezekiel 16, Hosea). Paul’s revelation of the relationship between Christ and the church functions as an explanation of the ways in which they interact: Christ as head, church as body; Christ as authoritative, church as submissive. Believers are not to be static after salvation – in fact, it is not a stretch to suppose co-working with Christ is a means of conformity to His image, as such would reflect what would seem to be an appropriate inter-connectedness of biblical theology.// (link to original post)

Mary wasn't married to Christ. Mary isn't called the mother of believers (Galatians 4:26) - John 19:26-27 is an exceptionally poor proof-text on which to base such a claim. Mary doesn't spread the the gospel to the ends of the earth, fulfilling the garden-temple extension mandate by the believer-temple extension. The church is and does that.

But the bad arguments don't end there. From the website of the OC with whom I was speaking, we find typical OC-RC attempts to connect Mary-Eve:

1. Jesus called Mary "woman"; Adam's wife was called "woman"; therefore, Jesus was indicating Mary was the new Eve.

2. Woman entices Adam to sin on the seventh day of the first creation; Mary entices Jesus to perform a miracle on the seventh day after John proclaimed the Lamb of God had come; therefore, Mary is a better Eve than Mary.

On the other hand:

1. Jesus calls the Samaritan woman at the well "woman" - are RCs and OCs prepared to say that every time Jesus or the prophets address a woman as "woman," a typological connection to Adam's wife is intended? How ridiculous.

2. The numerological argument above may seem air-tight... However, the OC forgot to show Adam's wife tempted Adam on the seventh day, and he forgot to show that the new creation was inaugurated with John's proclamation rather than, say, Christ's crucifixion-baptism which tore the veil symbolizing our separation from God's presence.

At least he didn't argue that Genesis 3:15 referenced Mary (which is an assertion I have unfortunately encountered more than once).

I generally avoid writings posts which can seem to cast a shade over a group of people on the basis of select individuals within the group. But I can't help but note that the above sort of argumentation is representative of every RC and OC who has told me that Mary is the New Eve. This is just my experience, and I do realize that the fact I cannot account for how the adherents to such systems can actually believe what they write apart from the suggestion their system encourages a defensive-minded, radical hermeneutic does not imply there is no other answer, but if nothing else, hopefully some of these poorer arguments will be discarded.

UPDATE: TurretinFan guest hosted the 12/9/10 Dividing Line (link), on which he speaks at length on the RC arguments for Mary-New Eve typology, as well as its implications. He mentions some points I missed;. I had no idea that the RC catechism - a dogma-defining document - explicitly taught Mary is the New Eve. Another good point TFan makes: even if such a typology was valid (and the above should be sufficient to disprove that or, at least, prove that to speak dogmatically on a possible connection is absurdly presumptuous), RCs make eisegetical connections to suit their own doctrines. For instance, some RCs argue that since Eve was born without sin, so too Mary, if she is New Eve, must have been born without sin. But of course, Eve was taken from Adam's body whereas Jesus came from Mary's body, and this goes to show that to speak dogmatically about what connections between Mary and Eve must be true is arbitrary - if the relation between Eve's creation and Adam's (Adam -> Eve) differs from the relation between Mary's creation and Christ's (alleged new Eve -> new Adam), why should we not think that the creation of sinless Eve differs from the creation of Mary? And let us not forget that we are assuming that the typology is valid in the first place. Anyways, it was an interesting program and I recommend it.

RC Hermeneutics and Divine Contraception

Pope Benedict XVI’s recent comments on condoms and male prostitution have sparked numerous debates about whether or not Rome’s stance against contraception is shifting. That is an issue for which so-called “traditional” RCs can fend for themselves; I have no interest in playing he-said/she-said. The pope’s comments, however, provide an occasion for wondering why Rome opposes contraception at all, and therefore provides me with the opportunity of reflecting on the subject of typology.

This post will not pretend to address all arguments against contraception (especially since I myself lean towards anti-contraception). However, because I have been told on more than one occasion by an RC that Protestants in general (and myself in particular) do not fully appreciate Scriptural typology and analogy - and what with the recent surge amongst the Reformed in the area of so-called biblical theology, I find this criticism a little amusing - I have felt inclined to show that it is rather the case that RCs are typically wont to cite passages with the barest appearance of relevance to a subject to, as they see it, buttress their beliefs. In the case of contraception, the arguments I most often hear from RCs and the arguments that will serve as the examples of the wild nature of RC hermeneutics (admittedly based on my singular experience) are as follows:

- Men are commanded to be fruitful and multiply (Genesis 1:28, 9:7, 35:11), and since a couple’s ability to fulfill this is at least hindered if contraception is used, contraception ought not be used.

- Union between man and wife reflects the union between Christ and His bride, the church (Ephesians 5:25-32); if the concept of contraception is not found in the latter covenant, then, it should not be found in the former covenant.

The first argument, in short, presupposes that believers are under the covenant of works and/or that we constitute the physical line through which the Messiah will come, as those were the contexts in which God's commands to Adam, Noah, and Jacob, were given. Both are false and, if taken to their logical conclusions, damnable. At the very least, both fail to understand the way in which Jesus fulfills the covenants - He, by His life, death, and resurrection, merited and secured the graces necessary for the salvation of the elect. We become children of God and Abraham by the Spirit, not the flesh. Only by divorcing history from Christ could one make such a hermeneutical faux pas. Ironically, in this case it is the RC, not the Protestant, who fails to see the typological connections extant in pre-redemptive history. As I have written elsewhere:

“Jesus made it clear in the Great Commission that the church was to spread His name throughout all nations (cf. Romans 10:14-15), and the reason He did not do this on His own [is]… because the assistance of the church is necessary in the same way woman was necessary for Adam to have protologically fulfilled the dominion mandate (compare Genesis 22:18 to Matthew 28:19). The church is God’s chosen means of effecting His predestined, merited goals. She spreads the gospel which, when the Father sends His Spirit to regenerate an individual unto the image of Christ, adopts the newborn believer into God’s family so that he or she can further propagate God’s word, literally extending the temples of God in which the Holy Spirit dwells and which we are, as a royal priesthood, to treat with care. The primary point is that the dominion mandate is fulfilled spiritually, not physically (John 1:12-13), which is why Paul – who didn’t marry – could call Timothy and his other disciples his own children (1 Corinthians 7:8, Titus 1:4, &c.).”

Too, we know that the way in which Christ and the church procreates is through the preaching of the word (Romans 10:17), as that is the appointed means by which new creations – Spirit-children – come to faith (James 1:18). The assertion that in such work a notion of contraception is non-existent – and therefore ought not to be existent in the analogous relationship between man and wife – may seem plausible at first glance. However, considering the plethora of times God has hardened the minds of men against His word (John 12:37-40), refusing to work miracles or speak plainly for the express purpose of prohibiting unbelievers from becoming children in God’s family (Matthew 11:21 and 13:10-15, respectively), may one not suggest this is indeed a form of contraception? That we are to preach the gospel to all without exception, that the Son gives life to whom He wishes, and that the Son does not wish to give life to all without exception would actually seem to imply a sort of divine contraception.

One could argue that this is a case in which analogical connections are pushed too far. I would agree. But in that case, it might similarly be argued that using the fact that the union between Christ and church is similar to man and wife to argue that there must be similarities between the way in which each covenantal union procreates is a case in which analogical connections are pushed too far.

As opposed to the naive hermeneutic which republishes as commandment that which is accomplished by Christ and spiritually fulfilled by means of His bride, this second argument connotes a radical hermeneutic. The common denominator is a system which encourages a defensive, rather than a biblical, theology.