Veneration, Prayer, and the Possibility of Apostasy: A Dilemma

Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, and Oriental Orthodox are known to venerate and pray to those whom they consider to be saints who have died: Cyril of Alexandria, Basil of Caesarea, etc. These traditions also are known to reject the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints: those who come to be saints at one point in life are thereafter capable of apostatizing, losing the salvation which they once possessed.

This leads to a question: do these traditions have grounds for believing that it is impossible that those whom they regard as saints apostatized on their deathbeds? Raising this hypothetical may be thought of as offensive, but if it is possible or may even have happened, the real offense would be against Christ.

Supposing it is possible that some of those whom these traditions regard as saints apostatized, is it not also possible that members of these traditions are venerating and praying to someone who is actually in hell? Orthopraxy depends on orthodoxy. If we cannot be sure someone is orthodox, should that not have implications for one's praxis involving them? Surely, veneration of and prayer to one who may be in hell cannot be obligated. I expect most of the aforementioned traditions would reject this supposition.

What is the alternative? Infallible assurance of another's faith (let alone perseverance) is ordinarily impossible. If these traditions argue that it is not possible that those whom they regard as saints apostatized - if one can have infallible assurance that those who are venerated and prayed to remained saints unto death - such can only be the case if they accept an extraordinary source of and means for such knowledge. I can think of no other possibility than that it somehow has been divine revealed which saints persevered.

The mechanism by which these traditions believe God has revealed those who persevered currently differs among these traditions. For example, papal approval obviously will not be viewed as necessary in Eastern Orthodoxy and Oriental Orthodoxy. Actually, though, while Roman Catholics would argue that papal approval is now required by canon law, the process of canonizing saints is apparently revisable. In fact, it seems that even Roman Catholics admit that papal involvement was not only unnecessary but also entirely absent in the first nine centuries (link). A Roman Catholic, then, would have to be open to defending different mechanisms.

Another consideration is that Eastern Orthodoxy and Oriental Orthodoxy consist of autocephalous or self-governing churches. This may lead some churches within these broader traditions to venerate as saints those who are not venerated by another church within the same, broader tradition. For example, within the broader tradition of Oriental Orthodoxy, the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo church venerates John of Damascus (link), whereas the Coptic Orthodox church does not. 

This is interesting in that John of Damascus opposed miaphysitism, a Christology typically characterized as distinctive to the tradition of Oriental Orthodoxy. In fact, as a Chalcedonian, John of Damascus is ironically anathematized by the Ethiopian Orthodox. Here, the problem is even more obvious than the hypothetical I posed above: how can one coherently venerate or pray to a theologian whom he regards as having been anathematized?

One possibility is that anathematizations can be lifted. One case of this happening occurred when the Roman pope and Eastern Orthodox patriarch of Constantinople mutually agreed to nullify the anathemas of 1054 (link). This appears to be mental gymnastics, however, and I know of some within the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo church who would sooner admit John of Damascus should be removed from their synaxarium than defend the possibility that John of Damascus is venerable or worthy of hearing one's prayers. 

Another possibility is to suggest that a synaxarium (or parish, priest, bishop, or any other vehicle of communicating a list of saints) is only infallible indirectly, i.e. insofar as those who are listed as saints have been declared so by that which is the direct mechanism of divine revelation - say, a synod.

Regardless, the logical end of each of the aforementioned traditions is a hyper-realization of solo ecclesia. These traditions might speak of "historical investigation" that goes into their decision-making. These traditions might speak of only "recognizing" who already is or is not a saint. But this cannot be. 

Given their rejection of the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints, to rule out deathbed apostasies as a live possibility presupposes that these traditions not only have the prerogative of interpreting divine revelation but also have the prerogative of actively creating such ex nihilo, upon which they further obligate the consciences and practices of their members. 

For these traditions, new and public divine revelation is ongoing. They are not merely drawing out inferences from the God-breathed Scriptures but are claiming themselves to be able to draw out the breath of God - through their papal, synodal, or popular voice - at will. Protestations to the contrary will logically entail, as has been pointed out, that members of these traditions could be venerating and praying to someone who is actually in hell.

Infants and Sacraments

My recent post on the role of the church in Christian education (link) brought to mind a post from several years ago in which I argued that only baptized persons can be "participants" in corporate worship:

...elders administer discipline to their sons, the visible flock over which they shepherd. If infants are never members of the visible church, then they are never disciplined by elders. You might discipline your son, but just because his friend is around when you do doesn't mean his friend is a "participant" in that discipline. To the extent one wants to speak of someone as a participant in worship and yet without discipline, I think such a person would be an illegitimate child rather than a son (Hebrews 12:7-8). (link)

To develop this further, unbaptized persons are onlookers. They are spectators rather than participants in liturgy. They are not, during corporate worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by elders. Just as elders guard the Lord's Supper, so too does baptism fence off participation in worship. Just as the Lord's Supper communicates covenant blessing or judgment, baptism analogously initiates one into either covenant blessing or curse. Sacraments are neither ex opere operato nor ex opere operantis. 

In this way do we see how sacramentology is tied to ecclesiology. Liturgical participants draw near to God. Those who do so in an unworthy manner will be judged more severely than those who do not draw near at all. Judgment begins at the house of God, after all. In a sense, it is for their own protection that unbaptized persons are not counted as participants, although it is obviously not good that they should remain as they are. Insofar as the Lord's Supper is proleptic of the marriage supper of the Lamb, everyone will have to reckon with the [Sabbath] day of the Lord sooner or later.

If Baptists agree - as they should - that unbaptized persons are not, in public worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by elders, that has significant implications. If one denies this by affirming that an elder, in his authoritative capacity as an elder, ought, in public worship, to instruct and discipline the unbaptized, I will only say that such a denial appears either 1) misconstrues liturgical duties of an elder or 2) trades on semantic ambiguity: some teaching, admonishment, etc. is proper or particular to an elder, whereas some teaching or admonishment is informal and not exclusive to that which only an elder can offer. 

Considering the second point first, we can say that in one sense, a Baptist elder can "teach" or "admonish" persons who are not members of the visible church (or even the invisible church). But to the extent that all men are needful of spiritual and physical nourishment, all Christians are capable of "teaching" or "admonishing" others by being living testimonies of the light of the gospel. In living such lives, through the work of the Spirit, some needs of all men may be met. Of course, that one has these needs met does not suggest that all his needs are met.

Case in point, what is being spoken of here is not proper or particular to an elder. I would argue that some of man’s spiritual needs can only be met by being members in the visible church. That is, I am not questioning whether Baptist elders are capable of meeting some needs of persons who are not in the visible church, needs that can also be met by laity in non-liturgical settings. Rather, I question whether Baptist elders are capable of meeting specific needs of unbaptized persons, particularly in the context of worship. 

I think a consistent Baptist would agree that Baptist elders can no more meet certain needs of unbaptized persons than a Presbyterian elder could - until the persons in question are baptized. Recognizing this would avoid the semantic ambiguity alluded to above and confirm a distinction in belief regarding ecclesial scope of authority, as Presbyterians baptize infants whom Baptists would not.

Now, given Baptistic thought that believing parents of infants have no obligation to incorporate said infants into the visible church (quite the contrary, in fact), it looks to be a straightforward inference that these infants are not, during worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by Baptist elders. And if a Baptist elder would say that he does not authoritatively lead, represent, instruct, or discipline unbaptized persons – if he attempts to be, as I see it, relatively consistent with Baptistic thought – then while one can certainly tell infants (or, for that matter, any unbaptized persons) that they need full, spiritual nourishment, while they remain unbaptized, a Baptist elder cannot be said authority or responsible for their spiritual nourishment.

This leads to another consideration: it seems Baptist elders should leave the extent to which unbaptized, infants are exposed to "teaching," "admonition," "discipline," etc. that is proper and particular to elders to parental discretion. In other words, if parents decided not to bring their infants to public worship until or unless they have made a credible profession, on what grounds could a Baptist elder voice a legitimate problem with that?

I find that most Christian parents want their infants (or unbaptized) children to be present for worship of God. However, the question is whether this intuition can be backed such that a Baptist elder could, consistent with Baptistic principles, morally obligate parents to bring their infants to worship by and in the midst of a visible, covenant community to which the infants do not, on Baptist grounds, "belong." Worship is a time particularly intended for the visible church to draw near to God, whereas the infant is implicitly told by Baptists that he does not belong as a worshipping member to the visible church. 

That I've met with resistance from Baptists on this question indicates to me some tension between Baptistic principles and Baptistic practice. Indeed, one wonders about the implications of the London Baptist Confession XXII.6 when it states, "God is to be worshipped everywhere in spirit and in truth; as in private families daily..." If infants can be counted as worshippers in private families, why not in the visible church? Or if they cannot be so counted as worshippers in private families, are they then not members of the private family worshipping? The tensions compound.

Turning to another argument for infant baptism, on Baptistic thought, ecclesiology and sacramentology don't mirror soteriology. Soteriologically, Reformed Baptists and Presbyterians agree that the Father monergistically elected and regenerates men, both of which [logically] precede the faith of these men - even dispositional faith (on how this importantly relates to infants, see here). Yet ecclesiologically and sacramentally, Baptists invert the order such that mature articulation of faith ought to precede [a holy parent or parents choosing the] baptism of [their] infants. This is odd, as baptism signifies regeneration.

I find Baptistic ecclesiology, sacramentology, and argumentation to be more unfortunately tied to pragmatism. Interestingly, some Baptistic arguments against infant baptism intentionally highlight this inverted order of events as experienced by members of the invisible church compared to those experienced by members in the visible church, arguing on pragmatic grounds that since infants can't remember their baptisms, the baptisms are of no use. Perhaps this is why some Baptists have historically gone further in expecting an articulation of a memorable conversion experience before admittance into the visible church.

In any case, this is like arguing that because one doesn't remember being named at the time of his naming, there is no use in the naming. On the contrary, those who belong in the midst of the visible covenant community just are those who have been named in baptism (Matthew 28:19). Both in the case of my personal naming and in my baptismal naming, testimonial evidence is sufficient for my "knowing" my own name (at least in an externalist sense); I don't need video evidence or to have been conscious during the namings for the namings to have had and continue to have significance. Not only are such pragmatic objections weak, they function to show how Presbyterian ecclesiology and sacramentology align with Presbyterian soteriology and anthropology. On further ways in which "-ologies of places and people at least tend to mirror one another," see here, here, here, and here. 

Finally, there is the objection that anyone who is baptized also should be allowed to partake of the Lord's Supper. In this way, Baptists actually agree with those of the Federal Vision movement like James B. Jordan, the latter of whose arguments for paedocommunion I find more challenging than pragmatic, Baptistic arguments against infant baptism. Jordan's ecclesiology and sacramentology are connected to his understanding of biblical theology. Take the following, which I cannot recall if I found through Jordan himself:

It is well known that the words of the nineteenth Psalm (1-4), mainly on the strength of St. Paul's adaptation of them (Rom. x. 18), have constantly received a spiritual application. The Church is the firmament which shews the handywork of God; in which day transmits to day and night to night in unbroken succession to the end of time, and to all the world, the wondrous story of the glory and grace of God. (Richard Chenevix Trench, Sacred Latin Poetry, pg. 206, link)

Jordan also argues that this symbolism is biblical (link). One enters the firmament-church through baptism just as entrance into the holy place of the tabernacle required passing by the bronze sea and through the veil. Once in the holy place or firmament, there is, before the priest, bread and wine. Bread is food that enables work, whereas wine signifies rest. Bread is protological and wine is eschatological. Thus, an OT tabernacle priest could eat bread but could not drink wine or sit down, for his work was never finished. 

Jordan further argues that bread and wine throughout the Old Testament tends to stand for a contrast between priestly infancy and kingly maturity. The OT was a time during which the people of God could participate in priestly rites but not kingly rest in the throne room; hence, only the high priest entered the holy of holies, he did so only entered once per year, and even then, his work was never finished such that he could enjoy rest. 

For priests to have drank wine at this point in redemptive history would have implied an over-realized eschatology. An over-realized eschatology is an eschatology which counts as having already happened cosmological events which we ought to still anticipate, such as the return of Christ (thus, Jordan argues against hyper-preterism). 

Before Christ, we were collectively as children and required guardians and tutors (Galatians 3-4). Christ, having completed the groundwork for our salvation and eschatological telos, has enabled His priestly people to move forward in redemptive history as we follow the directive of our enthroned King and drink the wine (signifying His blood) that the priests of the OT could not. Each Lord's day, we can enjoy anticipation of consummated, kingly rest in Him, our perfect sacrifice and High Priest. 

Even if we do not agree with Jordan in all the particulars, there does seem to be something to all this. There is a sort of macroecclesiastic, corporate, redemptive-historical progression the church had to experience before members of the church could drink wine. The whole of that which is invisible to us - the elect, the invisible church - are progressively being individually and visibly gathered into one (WCF XXV.I). As this has been and still is being realized in history, there has also been covenantal progression which, in turn, mirrors the sorts of progressions seen, for instance, on the anthropological, physical, or biological level - i.e. children eat bread long before they drink wine. 

In this way, Presbyterians avoid an over-realized ecclesiology, an ecclesiology which counts as having already happened ecclesiological events which we ought to still anticipate. Whereas now, the visible church has been given new privileges in administering sacraments which were not able to be administered under the older administrations of the covenant of grace, there is still more ingathering, maturing, and progressing to do before the members of the visible church are co-extensive with the invisible church, at which point we will enjoy the privilege of feasting with Christ face to face (Matthew 26:29).

Allowing all this, however, I suggest Jordan misses mirrors at the microecclesiastic, individual, soteriological level. We've just spoken of how the visible body collectively progresses and some analogues to it. At the same time, the whole grows only as the individual members who comprise the whole themselves grow. There must be recognized an individual progression in sanctification toward glorification as individuals put to death the deeds of their bodies (Romans 8:13). 

Just as we want to avoid an over-realized eschatology and over-realized ecclesiology, so too we want to avoid an over-realized soteriology, a soteriology which counts as having already happened soteriological events which we ought to still anticipate - such as the complete eradication of the subjective presence of sin. Jordan recognizes this much and argues against perfectionism (link).

...we must hold that indwelling sin remains and cannot be eradicated until the resurrection. Only the penalty of sin has been removed, and no matter what one does, he cannot reach a sinless state of pure fellowship. Whether he perceives it or not, sin is always present. Confession is important, but it is not magical. Certainly God wants man to confess his sin, but not to manipulate or penetrate the secret will of God. To think that confession can accomplish such things implies perfectionism. 

Rather than take this observation and consider analogues which might be found on this level, however, he follows: 

Today, Chafer’s book has tremendous influence in evangelicalism. Campus Crusade for Christ has popularized what Chafer taught in its Holy Spirit booklet, calling it “spiritual breathing.” Many other groups show the effect of this book in their emphasis on introspection. If confession of sin is emphasized apart from the objective worship of the people of God, it is individualized and internalized. Historically, the Christian Church has practiced objective and corporate confession of sin. It helps to prevent that kind of subjective introspection. It should not be overlooked, however, that Chafer’s theology is essentially Anabaptistic and has extended Anabaptist thought. It separates the objective from the subject in the same way Platonic thought did, and is in the final analysis an internalized subjective theology. 

Any retreat into the inner, personal, and subjective world of man takes him away from God’s righteous objective law. Even the scripture memory of the Pharisees and the Antonians obscured the Scripture itself because it was performed in the context of bad theology and practice. A subjective emphasis carries one away from objectivity. Once this happens, man begins to see his sin in terms of himself. As a result his sin disappears because of his own self deception. In other words, he thinks he is perfect, when he may in fact be in deep sin. Putting it another way, break the mirror and the shame disappears. The knowledge of sin comes via the law. All of the perfectionistic movements of history have rejected both a knowledge of the law and the knowledge of sin.

This is strange. Jordan seems to understand that progression is not merely a corporate phenomenon but a subjective, individual one as well, yet he seems to refuse to admit that dimension has a place in one's doctrine of worship. 

For example, Jordan understands that an over-realized physiology is a physiology which counts as having already happened physiological events which we ought to still anticipate, such as unrealistic physical expectations of those whose bodies have not yet sufficiently developed. As such, Jordan argues that youths should not play football:

...we have to agree with the opinion of physicians that football is unhealthy for young men. The Bible tells us, as does medical science, that our physical frames are not fully set and mature until we are around thirty years old. Up until that time, severe physical stress can do considerable damage to our young, developing bones and cartilege. Thus, God said that the Levites had to be between thirty and fifty years old in order to carry the heavy golden furniture of the Tabernacle (Numbers 4; this is also symbolic, since a man should be at least thirty years old before taking church office upon his shoulders.) Physicians complain that football is too risky for high school and college age youth. Many Christian schools have taken this advice seriously, and have turned to other, less dangerous sports. (link).

Likewise, can we not acknowledge subjective, relevant distinctions in worshippers? In fact, mustn't we acknowledge such distinctions in, say, considering who is qualified to function as an elder? I think Jordan conflates macroecclesial and microecclesial levels, leading him to an over-realized sacramentology, a sacramentology which counts as having already happened sacramental events which some ought to still anticipate - such as setting unrealistic spiritual expectations on ones who have not yet sufficiently developed to examine himself and discern the body (1 Corinthians 11:28-29). Jordan's understanding of this passage flattens it to such an extent that the subjectively diverse experiences mentioned in verse 30 become unintelligible.

When Jordan argues for paedocommunion, I think he misses that a progressive dimension exists in sacramentology just as in most other -ologies. He treats as what is now available to the visible covenant community - due to redemptive-historical progression - as being available to each member of the said community. In short, a fallacy of division.

Much more could be said regarding arguments against paedocommunion (or, for that matter, arguments for infant baptism). Here, I've only tried to organize some thoughts I haven't seen discussed much elsewhere. For those interested, I recommend this book and this series, the first video of which provides further biblical-theological reasons against paedocommunion.

The Role of the Church in Christian Education

I've been thinking about how American education improvement is possible. As I've been reading more about my denomination's history (OPC), I keep coming back to the same issue: what is the role of the church in Christian education?

This is a difficult question. Different stations in life require different standards of education. Of course, to grow in grace and knowledge, all people need some education. The layman will need education sufficient to understand the word of God when it is preached to him or her. A pastor will need much more education than this: he needs to know the needs of his flock to pray for them, he needs to know how to meet certain of those needs, he needs to know how to administer the sacraments, he needs to know what to preach and how preach it, he needs to know how to discipline his flock, and so on. 

Let's take a specific case: a young man who wants to become a pastor. From whom should he receive the sort of education mentioned above? Typically, he goes to seminary. Now, in Doug Douma's The Presbyterian Philosopher, a footnote to chapter 6 reads as follows:

That it was Clark’s opinion that a seminary should be under the authority of a church, not an independent institution, is confirmed by a recollection of Genevieve Long, widow of Clark’s friend Howard Long.—Email to the author from Ellen Schulze, daughter of Genevieve Long

Why does it matter whether seminaries can be legitimately independent institutions? Consider the history of American Presbyterianism. In Gary North's Crossed Fingers, he notes:

The ideology of academic freedom rests on a lie: the idea that the professor's pursuit of truth is sovereign, irrespective of the intent of those who finance this pursuit. This lie is undergirded by another lie: that truth exists independently of the hierarchical authority associated with biblical covenantalism. That is to say, there is supposedly some self-existing, religiously neutral, universal system or methodology of truth that exists apart from the self-revelation of God in the Bible. Academic freedom rests, in short, on the myth of religious neutrality... 

The problem with a seminary is that it trains candidates for the preaching ministry. A seminary screens access to ordination. It can be outside the ecclesiastical chain of command, yet its authority to accept men as students and to graduate only some of them makes it functionally part of the system. In Presbyterianism, the seminary becomes the most important part, for its professors possess great though informal authority, and its graduates inherit denominational authority over time. 

No Presbyterian seminary was ever under extensive ecclesiastical authority, not even Princeton, which was the most subordinate of all the seminaries. The reunion of 1869 did lead to the establishment of veto power over new faculty appointments by the General Assembly. The denomination had only until the next General Assembly meeting to veto any professorial appointment. After that meeting ended, the professor was safe for the remainder of his academic career, even if subsequently de-frocked. By continuing to extend the positive sanction of institutional acceptability to Union Seminary after its secession in 1892, the denomination transferred its inheritance to the mortal enemies of both Calvinism and the Westminster Confession. This transfer was completed in 1936.

North writes more about this topic than I intend to reproduce here. For that reason, his book is much more thoughtful and engaging than, say, Fighting the Good Fight, by OPC historians John Muether and Darryl Hart. This is not to say the latter book is without value.

To observant readers, Muether and Hart beg the same questions as North raises without explicitly asking (let alone answering) them. In describing how Machen's formation of an Independent Board for Presbyterian Foreign Missions - pushback against the increasingly liberal PCUSA Board of Foreign Missions in the 1930s - was not unanimously approved amongst conservatives, Muether and Hart insightfully analogize the situation to Machen's formation of Westminster Theological Seminary:

A more troubling concern for Machen and the supporters of the board was the division the board provoked within the conservative cause. Many conservatives within the church, especially some members of Westminster Seminary’s faculty and administration, equally opposed to modernism, argued that the Independent Board was too antagonistic and that it did not serve the best interests of the cause of orthodoxy. Sadly, some of these allies deserted the cause over disagreement on strategy. The irony was that these supporters had gone along with the founding of Westminster, an independent Presbyterian institution. From Machen’s perspective, organizing the Independent Board was no different from establishing Westminster Seminary. Emergency situations required unusual tactics.

...while uncomfortable with the board’s independence, Machen believed the dire situation in the church required an emergency measure. According to Robert Churchill, the Independent Board was never intended to be permanent. It would be dissolved if and when the official board reformed. The Independent Board was a temporary effort to address the desperate state of missions in the church. Moreover, the centralization and bureaucratization of many of the Presbyterian Church’s ministries, missions being only one example, severely restricted efforts to reform denominational agencies by removing them from the more immediate supervision of church courts. (link)

Muether and Hart later discuss how the question of the Independent Board of Foreign Missions was resolved:

Even though the independence of the board from ecclesiastical oversight suggested that the conservative missions agency condoned non-Presbyterian forms of church government, the board’s constitution stated that it would support only those missionaries who vowed to conduct and establish missions based on the Westminster Confession and “the fundamental principles of Presbyterian Church government.” The board’s independence at its founding in 1933, then, was merely a temporary measure to protest the desperate state of the mainline denomination’s missions enterprise. In other words, despite its independence, the board was committed to establishing and conducting Presbyterian, not independent, missions.

Conspicuous in its absence, however, Muether and Hart never return to discuss the permanence of the independency of seminaries... although this too is a question that has been discussed in OPC history. The OPC's Committee on Theological Education - elected by the 11th general assembly - wrote:

The commission given by God to His church requires the conduct on the part of the church of certain forms of theological education. There are, however, strict limits to the scope of the theological education that may properly be undertaken by the church. These limits do not allow for the inclusion in the programme of theological education undertaken by the church of such a curriculum of theological studies as is necessary to equip men for a competent discharge of the Gospel ministry. Since the church must not exceed the terms of its commission and must limit itself to those activities which Holy Scripture establishes as the proper function of the church, it is the judgment of the Committee that it would be a usurpation of authority and a violation of the order which Christ has instituted in His church for the church to undertake the conduct of the comprehensive theological education which is ordinarily and properly undertaken by theological seminaries or by theological faculties in universities...

A church thus certainly may conduct theological education for the training of its ministry. The question now arises whether, in the present historical situation of The Orthodox Presbyterian Church, the church must conduct theological education. Successive general assemblies have judged that Westminster Theological Seminary is providing adequate theological education in accordance with the standards of The Orthodox Presbyterian Church. This committee believes that the judgment of the successive assemblies in this matter is sound, and that Westminster is providing the necessary theological education for prospective ministers of our church. The committee believes that it is thus not necessary for The Orthodox Presbyterian Church to establish a seminary of its own. 

As a layman in the OPC - a denomination I love - this utterly baffles me! I am open to persuasion on this subject, but seminaries and universities didn't even exist for the first millennium following Christ's ascension (see below). Who trained prospective ministers during that time? Do the "terms" of the commission of the church not include discipleship, or would the above committee have argued that one who suggests discipleship ought to include educating prospective ministers would be somehow suggesting a "usurpation of authority," "a violation of the order which Christ has instituted in His church"? 

As an aside, the committee who wrote this (and the below conclusion) was comprised of five men, all of whom were either founding faculty members of WTS or former WTS students (one of whom further went on to become the executive secretary for WTS). Is it not a conflict of interest for people so invested in WTS to be asked to investigate whether WTS is providing "the necessary theological education for prospective ministers of our church," let alone whether the OPC ought to "establish a seminary of its own"? 

In a ReformedForum podcast on The Role of the Seminary in Today's World, Al Mohler, President of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Kentucky, said the following:

A theological seminary bears a stewardship that is absolutely unprecedented. There’s no New Testament seminary. There’s not a seminary found in the New Testament. What you do have is someone - in particular, the example of the apostle Paul - who is teaching Timothy, helping to correct Apollos, being a part of working out the theological formation of those churches and of its teaching office. And the seminary better be that writ large.

Peter Lillback, President of Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia, observed:

As goes the pulpit, so goes the church. As goes the church, so goes the pulpit. As goes the seminary, so goes the pulpit. What's whispered in the seminary will be preached in the pulpit.

Strong language. Mohler follows:

I look at the wall of every doctor I go to visit. I want lots of good framed certificates from places I recognize. If I’m going to place my life in your hand, I want medical schools that sound legit: Harvard, Yale, Johns Hopkins, they sound great. But why is it when people think about what’s even more important – which is the care of souls – all of a sudden they think someone can do with something less than the best? I want students who know they’re going to be holding the care of souls in their hands, and thus they need the highest standard of education. I don’t want anyone who’s looking for less than that.

How about students who are looking for more than that? How about students who are looking for schools which want to be held accountable before God’s people for the education they provide precisely because that education is supposed to be designed to be the best means by which students learn to care for souls?

To be clear, I have considered going to seminary, and in the right season of life, I might. I'm all for the idea that Christians take the riches of the world and reappropriate them for Christ. It is often the case that secularists make advancements before God's people do, only for God's people to plunder them. That secular universities preceded seminaries does not mean we should commit a genetic fallacy about the potential good of a seminary. At the same time, reappropriation entails reconsideration of the ways in which the goods can and should be put to use. That includes to whom a seminary and faculty is accountable.

I do not pretend to have answers to every question which could be raised on this point. However, I would not think that the education of prospective fathers within a denomination should be outsourced to those who are not accountable to the hierarchical structure of the denomination. Fathers are responsible for the instruction of their children (Ephesians 6), children who may grow up to themselves be fathers. As in earthly matters, so too, one would think, in heavenly matters. After all, God taught Adam so that Adam could teach his family.

In drawing that analogy, I'm not suggesting that all education must be performed by direct instruction from a father (see below). One might take that as reason to suppose that an independent seminary can perform the work of educating prospective ministers just as a teacher can perform the work of educating one's child. 

However, if I'm not personally teaching my son something, I am nevertheless responsible for who teaches him, how they teach him, and what they teach to him. If I learned nothing else from North's book, I learned the importance of negative sanctions. If someone is teaching my son badly or wrongly, it is my responsibility to rectify the problem, and I have legitimate authority to do so. That might involve correcting the teacher directly, bypassing the teacher's authority (assuming there is someone over him), or removing my son from the charge of the teacher. If I do nothing, I will have failed my son and myself. North describes the consequence of [a failure to impose] sanctions in terms of inheritance. If one is not careful, plunder can work the other way around: Satan looks to plunder our Christian progeny, after all.

Now, what negative sanctions can a denomination currently impose on an independent seminary? A denomination could, through a committee (say), follow the father-son-teacher illustration in the preceding paragraph to a certain extent. In a case that a seminarian exposes a teacher teaching badly or wrongly, a committee could confront a teacher directly. They could also bypass the teacher by speaking to his authorities, i.e. the administration of the seminary. 

But in case neither of those options cause change, what negative sanctions can a denomination really impose? If the seminary is independent, the denomination cannot remove the teacher. Economic sanctions seem to be the one and only remaining option: a denomination might rule out or minimize ordaining those from a seminary whose teachers and teaching don't align with the standards of the denomination.

In one sense, this sanction threatens prospective candidates. That threat might deter prospective candidates from attending said independent seminary... conversely, it might drive prospective candidates into ministering for other denominations. Separately, the sanction also threatens the seminary. But in the case of a relatively smaller denomination such as the OPC, economic sanctions are less likely to make an impact on the policies of an independent seminary.

For economic sanctions to become an effective threat against an independent seminary, a smaller denomination would have to first expand. This leads to an irony: a smaller denomination which prioritizes power through economic sanctions is driven to grow its church to an extent its voice can only be ignored with difficulty. In turn, this renders the denomination more susceptible to the temptation of artificial growth through confessional drift or compromise, the very thing to be avoided. 

In fact, there is already an inherent tension for a denomination to even believe that an independent seminary upon which it relies for pulpit supply is primarily driven by economics. There is less reason to suppose that such a seminary would in the first place remain motivated to confessional stability (as opposed to lucre) while the denomination attempts to grow its own economic leverage.

Under this scenario, then, should the idea of economic sanctions be abandoned? Perhaps the needle can be threaded, but predicating the success of relations between church and seminaries on economics appears challenging. If a denomination or an independent seminary upon which a denomination relies buy that "money talks," prospective ministers are somewhere being taught a bad object lesson. 

Granted, economic considerations cannot be entirely avoided. If an overemphasis on economic considerations might make difficult the relationship between smaller denominations and independent seminaries, one should not underemphasize economic considerations for smaller denominations who might desire the responsibility of overseeing an ecclesiastically accountable seminary but would have difficulty funding one. There are obvious complexities, especially in initial coordination. 

Short of the formation of a denominational seminary - which, by the way, needn't imply that a denomination should always rule out consideration of candidates from independent seminaries - I think the OPC has been wise to invest in MTIOPC (link). I pray MTIOPC continues to bear fruit and might even be a stepping stone.

For those interested in more context to and qualifications of the foregoing thoughts, I recommend James S. Gidley's essay "Faith and Learning in the Presbyterian Ministry" in Confident of Better Things for an even-handed treatment of "whether it is time to develop a new system of ministerial education, and if so, what form it should take" (pg. 265). Gidley is also right to conclude that 1) "neither the educational process nor the educational institution produces ministers" as well as that 2) "institutional arrangements for attaining the end of sound preparation for the gospel ministry are secondary to the preparation itself." While the focus of this post thus far has been on "institutional arrangements," I do agree with Gidley.

Broadening now the scope of the topic, is the education of members and, particularly, covenant children any business of the church? Unlike the prospective ministers, this initial question is less about whether the church is (or is not) responsible for providing the education itself. That becomes relevant only if this initial question should be answered affirmatively. 

If it were to be answered affirmatively, we would have to push the following logic: if the education of covenant children is some business of the church, suppose parents or guardians were negligent in the education of their children. Would it be an overstep for a session to address that? If the negligence persists, would it be an overstep for a session to view it as a disciplinary issue?

While uncomfortable, these are questions that require careful consideration. It might be easier to set them aside altogether. However, a shepherd is responsible for the well-being of his sheep. Can one's education be divorced from one's well-being? 

Allowing this, there is certainly room for freedom when discussing the concrete form in which one's education takes shape. What constitutes "negligence" could be a slippery slope, and I would not argue that the general assembly, presbyteries, or location congregations must be the educators of covenant children for all subject matters. 

Even so, are there lessons to be learned from controversies involving parachurch organizations (e.g. Peniel conferences)? Should the Committee for Christian Education restrict itself to "Sunday school" matters? Does not the OPC have a history of understanding that Christian education requires Christian educators who consciously work from and within a confessional, Christian worldview? 

While the who and how of Christian education should be a matter of liberty, then, it is prudent to consider means by which such education might be made more accessible. How to fund specific types of Christian education is a separate (albeit important) question. Enrolling one's child in a Christian school is a good option - as I was blessed to have attended a Christian school from elementary through high school, I can attest to its benefits - but infeasible for many (cost, scarcity, etc.). 

Homeschooling is another option. Even this, though, isn't workable for all families. As a public school teacher at a Title I school, I'm all too aware of difficulties in terms of childcare. Further, I specialize in teaching just one area of math. I can recall being a new teacher struggling to keep my head above water: I've had to learn how to manage behavior and time, master content, effectively communicate that content, check for understanding, etc. It's one thing for me to do that given my background and that it's for a specific math course (and with peer assistance). I can easily understand how home-schooling can be overwhelming for parents when kids, ages, and subjects are multiplied - not to mention the parental priority of providing basic means of living. That is, for some, public schooling is unavoidable.

The question, then, turns to whether and how a church can help. Analogous to the function of MTIOPC, I know of some local churches who offer supplemental, cohort education. For congregations that can realistically do it, this is a valuable, small scale possibility.

On a larger scale, the OPC has thousands of members. NAPARC has hundreds of thousands. Might it not be possible to form an online network that offers educational options suited to various needs, are freely accessible to all members, and has oversight? Under this scenario, members would actually be modeling what I argue seminaries should be doing. Options could range from weekly tutoring hours to asynchronous lesson videos, each contextualized within a Christian framework.

Is this hopelessly ideal? Undeniably, we live in an individualistic culture, one which approves of the path of least responsibility. But I think there is a place for an online platform with a specific vision to prospective members who are already linked in a concrete way, even if the members don't know each other personally (e.g. if they are members of the same denomination, NAPARC, etc.). 

Even if a petition for oversight was rejected, the idea itself could be implemented. In that case, though, it might require word of mouth to gain traction. I find it theoretically attractive, if practically knotty.

Energetic Objections

I came across the Energetic Processions channel recently and took some time to listen to a few videos lodging objections to Protestantism on justification. It's a three and a half hour video, so I'm going to pick on just a few things the Eastern Orthodox panel mention. This originally was a longer post, but I already cut and published certain material in other posts, not all of which I can remember. For one example, though, see Robinson's comments at 52:20 in the video, which I address here and touch on again here).

One of the participants, Cyril Jenkins, says: 

The Bible's not a systematic theology. And systematics kind of has its place, but I would think only long after historical theology and biblical theology have done their work and that's that's not really what Calvinism largely is at all.

Setting aside the Eastern Orthodox professor's presupposition against sola scriptura in his prioritization of historical theology (a point Steve Hays dealt with long ago), fascinating about this is that Seraphim Hamilton - the young man in the video whose debate was being reviewed - self-admittedly owes much of his learning to the Calvinist theologian James B. Jordan, whom Seraphim has described as providing an "ocean of biblical material. It's a kind of a crash course in the whole Bible" (link). It's a shame Seraphim had dipped out of the conversation by this point, or he might have mentioned this to them. 

Likewise, Seraphim has favorably mentioned Peter Leithart's book A House for My Name. I'm probably missing other references, but Meredith Kline, Geerhardus Vos, Warren Gage, G. K. Beale, J. V. Fesko, etc. are a few other leading figures in biblical theology with whom Jenkins might want to become familiar.

Earlier in the discussion, an Eastern Orthodox pastor (De Young) offered the following comment on a lexical argument made by a debate opponent to Seraphim Hamilton on the topic of justification.

One of the the real issues especially with the Reformed approach to this is, as you said, they're going to Greek Lexicon and they're only talking about the New Testament. And a lot of this stuff really falls apart when you get into the Old Testament. And it's not a place where they really want to go, and so as a general future reference, you know, kind of dragging them there... I mean just as one example - as one example - the bit that he would consider Old Testament that's closest in time to the New Testament that talks about justification is Daniel 8:14. And that's where in the Aramaic, Daniel talks about the temple being trampled underfoot for a period of time, at which point the temple will be justified. It's tsadeq in Aramaic, and that is so clearly talking about cleansed, purified, re-established, right? Put back in order right? Any English translation you look at translates it that way.

De Young's intimation is that the justification has an ontological aspect to it along the lines of what EO espouses. Let's compare that to how James B. Jordan translates Daniel 8:14 - And he said to me, "Until evening morning two thousand and three hundred; and a sanctuary will be vindicated." Jordan argues:

The period of time from sometime in 64 A.D. to the destruction of the Temple in A.D. 70 is about seven years, or just short of it. This period fits well with 2300 days, taken literally. During this time, a wicked host of priests performed the Continual, after usurping it from the righteous, from the Chief of chiefs. During this time also, both a (new) sanctuary, the Church, and its host (pastors) were trampled and persecuted in the Great Tribulation. After this time, the new sanctuary (the Church) was vindicated by the destruction of the Temple, Jerusalem, and the apostate Circumcision wherever they were. (The Handwriting on the Wall, pg. 437)

According to Jordan, then, De Young is suggesting the apostate temple order was "cleansed, purified, re-eastablished" when, in fact, it was destroyed (70 A.D.)! In contrast, Jordan's biblical-theological interprets the destruction of the apostate temple (vs. 13) as not only not cleansing or transforming the new, antitypical temple of the church (vs. 14), rather, the former (vs. 13) vindicates the latter (vs. 14).

While Young's Literal Translation of Daniel 8:14 is rather wooden, its translation of וְנִצְדַּ֖ק as "declared right" undercuts the Eastern Orthodox pastor's contention regarding English translations. This is even more ironic in that after he criticized Seraphim's opponent for apparently failing to exegete the proof-texts he offered during the debate, De Young does the very same thing. 

If De Young is willing to attempt to rebut Jordan's interpretation with an interpretation situated within a biblical-theological context, I should like to see it. Note EO apologists are even relying on Jordan - to repeat, a dastardly Calvinist! - to such an extent that they're using their own money to translate his commentaries (link). 

By the way, I mention Jordan so much because I think he could be an important figure in future dialogues, not just with EOs, but with others. I indicated as much four years ago when I mentioned him as only one of two examples (the other being Gordon Clark, of course) of someone worth researching (link) before I discussed how I recommended going about research. He appeals to many people whose faiths differ from his own. Even those who view him as dangerous seem to find some comments of his insightful. 

Moving on, a final comment is on the extreme opposition the EOs in the video have to the idea Reformed believers can have assurance of their own salvation. I'll skip over but note in passing a particularly out of place (and certainly fallacious) reference in the video to deathbed anecdotes as evidence that Calvinists have no assurance. This type of manipulation is not qualified to be called apologetics. 

Here is Robinson at minute mark 2:22:29:

On the reformed view can you know that you're elect? How? There's nothing external that happens in the world that's inconsistent with you being reprobate. There's nothing internal to you in terms of your thoughts or states of your soul that are that's inconsistent with you being reprobate. All of your data is consistent with you being elect or reprobate. There's nothing you can point to - "Oh, I have faith." Well, I can't have your toothache, right? So it's not like I can take my experience of having faith and compare it to your experience of having faith and say, "Ah, see, mine's genuine."

I find this objection very weak. Robinson is suggesting that we need to be able to compare experiences of faith to have assurance of which is genuine. But where did he find that as a criterion of assurance? Why can't I compare my experience to what the definition of faith just is: understanding of, assent to, and trust in the gospel of Jesus Christ? 

Does Robinson think he needs to compare himself to other dental patients to determine if he has a toothache? Did Adam need to ask anyone else if he heard God correctly in Genesis 2? Does Robinson not realize he has just prevented members of his own faith from having assurance? EOs can no more compare their experiences of toothaches than can Reformed believers. Here is what Gordon Clark has to say of Robinson's illustration (link):

Since two people cannot have the same sensation, for my toothache is not yours, two people never sense the same thing. Each person lives in a separate world of his own perceptions. Therefore whatever a man thinks is true, that is true for him, and no one else can judge. This is the theory of relativism, the denial of fixed, eternal truth.

Perhaps Robinson projects his own experience while he believes he was a Calvinist onto Calvinism itself (minute mark 2:11:28ff.). He struggled with assurance, asking himself whether his faith was "great enough" - there are, unfortunately, a minority of Reformed believers who do teach that assurance is of the essence of saving faith, and these men can have the tendency of pushing younger men and women into doubt. See the last link in this post where I specifically refute one such person. Robinson's experience is sad, but it cannot be taken as the marker for what Reformed theology actually is.

Another point Robinson makes involves Calvin (minute mark 2:23:09):

You look at Hebrews 6. What Calvin says there - Calvin says that God actually begins the process of regeneration in the reprobate and then withdraws it so that they feel like they're actually being regenerate and so that they end up falsely believing. Well, let's put aside God's moral character as a question at that point. Let's ask the question of, "Okay how do I discriminate between that situation and mine?" I don't know how Calvinists have any Assurance at all. Zero. Goose egg.

We can set aside the point that Calvin is but one exegete. It isn't necessary to make this observation (see below), so I only do so because I know - but readers might not - that this would just lead to EOs begging the question: "if we don't respect what the [alleged] founder of our religion says, then that says it all about his and your religion itself, huh?" 

It's an escape-hatch EOs (and RCs) use if they can, especially if they see no other way out of a conversation in which they no longer wish to participate: make Calvin to be the straw head of a straw man, call the man "Reformed theology," and chop off Calvin (Luther/Protestantism, etc.). A recipe for frustration on the part of the Reformed believer, unless he is willing to let lies and nonsense go. 

This is often called for and recommended. Knowing for yourself that Reformed theology is based on God's revelation is enough. Not every misrepresentation or bad argument should be responded to. There are better things to do.

Anyway, I believe Robinson is referring to Calvin's comments on verse 4 here:

God indeed favors none but the elect alone with the Spirit of regeneration, and that by this they are distinguished from the reprobate; for they are renewed after his image and receive the earnest of the Spirit in hope of the future inheritance, and by the same Spirit the Gospel is sealed in their hearts. But I cannot admit that all this is any reason why he should not grant the reprobate also some taste of his grace, why he should not irradiate their minds with some sparks of his light, why he should not give them some perception of his goodness, and in some sort engrave his word on their hearts. Otherwise, where would be the temporal faith mentioned by Mark 4:17? There is therefore some knowledge even in the reprobate, which afterwards vanishes away, either because it did not strike roots sufficiently deep, or because it withers, being choked up.

Robinson's argument is epistemic: two people experience different things (regeneration vs. taste of grace), yet they cannot distinguish themselves (regenerate vs. unregenerate). Thus, assurance is impossible. So goes the argument.

Firstly, I missed where Robinson got the idea Calvin says God "begins the process of regeneration in the reprobate and then withdraws it." Calvin's first line seems like a fairly straightforward statement to the contrary.

Secondly, does Calvin consider the reprobate to be believers or unbelievers at the time they taste God's grace? If the former, that would make him Augustinian. That would be inconsistent with Reformed theology and indeed undercut Calvin's ability to be assured (cf. link below)... but it would also in turn undercut Robinson's appeal to Calvin insofar as Robinson would no longer be objecting to Reformed theology. 

Now, if the latter - reprobates are never believers - do they ever believe they are? If not, there is no dilemma. If so, then (just as importantly) what are their epistemic grounds for the belief? We are returned to: do these people understand, assent, and trust in the gospel of Jesus Christ? Since we've assumed they are not believers at this point, the answer is no. So it is just a matter of discerning what they misunderstand or reject about the gospel.

These are questions which can't be skipped over, yet are. This is also where the "toothache" illustration turns out to be handy. It is true that I can never experience someone else's toothache or alleged experience of faith. That just means I can't have [infallible] assurance about their salvation, not mine. It also means I may remain ignorant about just what others are having trouble with when it comes to the gospel. Again, though, that has nothing to do with my faith in the gospel and whether I can be assured.

This might turn us to questions about how someone can know he is not ignorant of what saving faith entails. Having myself written a rather long excursus which preemptively answers most of the objections about assurance in the video and goes more deeply into the doctrine, I'll leave this link for those who want to read more, as we're turning more to the question of what is saving faith and less to whether Reformed assurance is possible.

But I will just remind readers that while we are called to full assurance, such not necessary to be saved. This is not to diminish the importance of assurance, but the author of Hebrews also recognizes a hierarchy of foods, some of which are more foundational to others. Assurance is typically something that comes with maturity in faith, and it can also be lost as well as be found again. 

This is not so on Eastern Orthodoxy. These men must admit that they could apostatize from the faith. Therefore, while they may say they are assured now, they cannot with boldness claim that when Jesus returns, they will be found with him. They note that any "divorce" (apostacy) can only initiated by themselves. Okay, are they that confident about themselves? Minute mark 2:26:31:

I'm in control of whether or not I decide to turn my back on Christ. Again, I'm totally capable of it. I do it in small ways all the time, right? But as long as I keep coming back, I know he's not going to turn his back on me.

"As long as I..." is not comforting to one stuck in sin. This almost comes off as cavalier. In their minds, their wills are decisive in salvation, not God's. I really do find it strange that they brought this topic up when it is so clear that what they offer is not the full assurance to which we are called: 

Colossians 4:12 Epaphras, who is one of you, a servant of Christ Jesus, greets you, always struggling on your behalf in his prayers, that you may stand mature and fully assured in all the will of God.

Clark's Critics II

This is a post in which I hope to round out some commentary on OPC critics of Gordon Clark. As I said in a recent and similar post (link; here and here are the other posts I've written), I cannot now dedicate time to responding to every such critic. Some men's material is book-length (at minimum). I am satisfied by my present efforts, though, and I look forward either to writing posts on other subjects or, as I really should be doing, returning to my transcription efforts on unpublished works of Clark, which have been slack. Below, I'll be analyzing works by Charles Dennison, Michael Horton, and John Muether.

Charles Dennison

The first critic with whom I'll interact is Charles Dennison, author of History of a Pilgrim People. I'll not repeat Robbins' critiques of this book (link). I recommend link two in paragraph 1 above for more information on the accurate timeline involving the "program of action." 

I'll point out Robbins writes that some things in Dennison's book are "helpful" - as do I - as high praise as I think I've ever heard Robbins say of one who sides with Van Til rather than Clark. Generally, this is a book with quality information. I had to borrow a copy from an OPC friend and take numerous pictures, since no copies were available for below $125. I do hear it is being reprinted, however, which could explain the drop in price of currently available, used copies.

Dennison doesn't downplay the importance of the theological issues and offers some counter-historical claims to Frame's assertion that Van Til and Clark misunderstood each other; later, Muether will as well. He is certainly more measured than the authors mentioned in my last post, although like them (and just as Robbins says), he too nearly always fails to footnote a primary source for his more challenging intimations regarding Clark. 

Thus, there are gaps. For example, Dennison tries to explain how the accusation that Clark was a hyper-Calvinist could have been correct given his OPC cohorts (e.g. Robert Strong, Richard Gray). They apparently "looked past his theological positions" (pg. 134). No evidence or specificity is given for or to any of this.

Most of what Dennison has to say about the 1940s debate is extremely short. Dennison also does not note that Clark not only distinguished God's knowledge and man's knowledge quantitatively but in respect to mode (pg. 133). He mentions Clark's view of the primacy of the intellect as one of the inciting issues and that for Van Til (emphasis mine), "Man's knowledge is like (analogous to) God's knowledge but it is not the same" (pg. 133). I'll discuss these topics later, under a different author, below.

What cannot be missed is that Dennison pictures Clark as a "front man" (his words) for a larger network of OPC churchmen who wished "to bring the church back to an American Presbyterianism of an evangelical stripe" (pgs. 133-134). Now, where the idea of a "front man" comes from, I don't know - it isn't footnoted in any author I've read who has made the claim. I do, however, recommend the following writings by Clark - written around the time of the controversy - so readers can see if they find anything objectionable or anti-Reformed about his position on Christianity and culture: link, link ("The Next War"). 

Dennison's thesis - a negative view of the so-called "evangelical stripe" defended by Clark et al. - depends on his view of Machen (and our relationship to him) being correct: "Because we in the OPC lack a cultural tie, we lack an indigenous American identity and a route to larger appeal. This cross has been difficult first us to bear. So far we have been unwilling to abandon it, possibly because we sensed our relationship to Machen would never be the same if we did" (pg. 7). 

What of North's interpretation of Machen (see my last post)? And are we really going to suggest we should follow Machen in all respects? Dennison doesn't (pg. 13ff.), and North's book shows Machen had his faults. I'm also somewhat skeptical of the idea that OPC churchmen dwell on their "relationship" to Machen concerning this whole question. 

There are a few ways of framing the issue. One is to ask, as Dennison does, are we better off "culturally disenfranchised," without an "establishment identity" (pg. x)? For example, can the church without this identity "better declare God's word? advise foes? manifest a true catholicity? be a servant in the world for the sake of the Savior whose kingdom is not of the world? If it can, we dare not shrink from such a liberation..."? 

Wait - what if it can't? A church can always serve in the ways Dennison describes, but I've noticed a persistent theme in OPC literature on this point: to leave questions about whether cultural engagement is better or not in the hypothetical and to assume the very point at issue. What if our being honest about the horrors of sin that are perpetuated, regulated, or even legislated and enforced in our country enables us to "better declare God's word" et al.? 

If Dennison considers his position a liberation, what would he consider this hypothetical requirement? Or, what is the antonym of liberation? Since I can speak in hypotheticals as easily as Dennison, if the church is, say, supposed to speak (to political representatives, even!) and act on behalf of the oppressed in society, wouldn't it be quite ironic for Dennison to think of the hypothetical requirement I'm presenting as itself oppressive? 

What are the best arguments Dennison has? One is a series of rhetorical questions. From pg. 40: "...in the culture, is [the church] to dominate? Take over? Is she the purveyor of some sort of religious imperialism? Or is she to seek marriage with the culture and become indistinguishable from it?" These hyperboles are quite a far distance, though, from Dennison's original contention that "Simply put, the OPC has no cultural or social agenda" (pg. 7). 

A better argument, I think, would be to bring to the forefront what some OPC theologians have alluded to but not explored deeply when it comes to this topic: eschatology. Dennison notes that it was linked to "the new Westminster apologetic" (pgs. 111ff.) by Buswell, but Dennison too seems to leave the point to others to debate and discover. I'm speaking here of the implicit amillennialism of a number of authors whom I have mentioned have written about or commentated on this topic. I mentioned one framing of the issue earlier, here is another: is this being argued as a part of our denominational identity? 

If so, it needs to be made explicit. Further argumentation would be also needed that amillennialism encourages some kind of ecclesiastic invisibility or silence. Whereas Dennison views his position as liberating, I would think ecclesiastic freedom to speak and act on current, cultural events would be more liberating. The OPC has even seemingly done this prior to the time of Dennison's publication (link).

Muether and Hart do at least make explicit, in Fighting the Good Fight, that "the leaders of the OPC fully embraced the teaching of amillennialism as the view on Christ’s return most consistent with Scripture." Muether and Hart are referring to the Westminster faculty of the time. But I don't find any clear indication that amillennialism was a mark of the OPC's identity. Clark rejected amillennialism as a founding member and leader, although he accepted that "In this world the Christian is a pilgrim and a stranger" (Readings in Ethics, 1931, chapter on Early Christianity). 

It is obviously not in the scope of this post to attempt to answer which eschatological view is more or less true. There is another wrinkle here, however: dispensational premilennarians split from the OPC in 1937. Granted, they left for reasons not exclusive to eschatology, but when they formed the Bible Presbyterian Church, the former OPC members who split off made changes to the Westminster Standards "to reflect the premillennial doctrine held by the founders of the synod" (link).

Clearly, eschatology had some role in the 1937 split. This could be taken to mean the OPC had a distinctive eschatological identity after all, or it could simply mean the OPC by and large rejected the pretribulational premillennarian (and often dispensational) theology of those who left. The latter seems more likely to me, since, as the Bible Presbyterian Church members themselves implicitly acknowledged by attempting to reformulate them, the Westminster Standards as accepted by the OPC don't specify one millennial position as correct.

Either way, Clark's recommendation to become a member in the American Council of Christian Churches, stated at the OPC's twelfth general assembly (link), was a recommendation to regarding a council founded by the leader of those who split off from the OPC in 1937 to help form the Bible Presbyterian Church: Carl McIntire (see Dennison's chapter on Tragedy). 

Clark was, of course, also formerly employed by his friend, J. Oliver Buswell, another OPC member who split with McIntire in 1937 - who is credited with partially convincing Clark of premillennarianism by the time he was hired at Wheaton College (where Buswell was president), in 1937. Although Clark remained in the OPC and maintained a fundamentally different position on premillennialism than the Bible Presbyterian Church members, the two remained in friendly correspondence.

In 1937, we see an indication of how members who were soon to split from the OPC perceived treatment against their views by who Muether and Hart regard as the leaders of the OPC. In a recorded statement from the third general assembly (link), we read: "Mr. Laird resigned from the Board of Westminster Seminary on April 27 because the seminary had in recent months turned from exposure and attack upon modernism to an attack upon premillennialism." 

The open question is whether eschatology was relevant to the 1940s OPC debate. In short, did these same leaders - the Westminster faculty - see it as a success when in Clark, another advocate (and perhaps advocates, depending on what were the eschatological views of others who left the OPC with Clark) for premillennialism left the OPC... or was this largely unrecognized as an after- or non-thought? 

A subject worthy of further research, I can only offer a few comments before I leave most of it for another time or person to pursue. Those interested are encouraged to pay careful attention to Dennison's chapter on Vos and the "otherworldliness" of the Christian religion (pg. 85ff.). Compare Daryl Hart, who uses the same language here and, as I recall, in his book on The Lost Soul of American Protestantism. 

The key question, I think, is what does the "not yet" part of history look like. In his last sentence to his chapter on Clark and others, Dennison says, the OPC "has been stamped with an other-worldliness and waits for further help as to how she, rather than seeking to regain the world she has lost, might be of service to her Lord in the world" (pg. 136). On and for what is the OPC waiting? 

It is true that Adam had a pre-redemptive eschatological goal and that Christ has already granted to His people eschatological blessings (pg. 85). But is the Christian religion "otherworldly" in the sense that we lose all touch with our life as pilgrims as we look to Christ's return? Dennison correctly notes that the "wholly-other" god of neo-orthodoxy "generated their own irrelevance" (pg. 100) - is he in similar danger here with respect to the church? 

Michael Horton

Horton's chapter on Clark and Van Til in Reason and Revelation: New Essays in Reformed Apologetics (link) was one I wasn't aware about until relatively recently. Diving in, Horton says:

In biblical thought, truth is not simply the correspondence of words to things—a mirror of the eternal forms. It is a stance taken in relation to reality as God’s creation and to oneself as God’s creature—which creature in the covenant of grace is rightly related (justified) and rightly ordered (by the new birth and sanctification) to God’s purposes for human flourishing (pg. 132).

I don't find this especially helpful as a definition of truth. Why couldn't one say that falsity is also "a stance taken in relation to reality as God’s creation and to oneself as God’s creature"? Further, to say truth is a stance taken is to imply it is taken by someone. Who? God? Creature? Both? Is "truth" such that whoever is taking the "stance," others might also know the same truth?

Horton begins to move in the direction of a critique of Clark in some preliminary historical exposition in which he alludes to "medieval theologies" that "affirmed divine transcendence and, consequently, denied noetic access to God's essence on the part of humans" (pg. 132). On the other hand, Horton also recognizes that John Duns "Scotus, among others, insisted upon at least some “univocal core” if our attribution of being to God and ourselves is to have any legitimate purchase (anticipating in some ways the famous Van Til—Clark debate)" (pg. 133). 

At the bottom of pg. 134, Horton begins a subsection on "Archetypal/Ectypal Theology, or, The Creator-Creature Distinction." Horton describes archetypal theology through Wolfgang Musculus, who said believers can neither "comprehend" nor have a "plain a perfect" knowledge of "the Majesty of God." There would be no argument from Clark on this point. 

More interesting was Horton's admission that nowhere (to his knowledge) does Van Til even use the terms "archetypal" or "ectypal" knowledge. That being the case, I didn't find it especially prudent to continue the article through this terminological lens, regardless of whether Horton thought the concepts were present. I suppose that's more so my opinion than an objection.

At any rate, I likewise found that archetype-ectype terminology was not used in the 1940s OPC debate until 1946 (see Puritanboard post 31ff. here), well after much debate already had taken place. The following is the first I can find that the terminology is used (link):

Were it true that Dr. Clark affirmed a propositional character of divine knowledge it would appear that he had made a temporal form fundamental to the archetypal knowledge of God, which would indeed be making truth fundamentally quantitative. The perfect unity of the knowledge of God would be subjected to a manifold of propositional units temporal in their character.

Unfortunately, missing in these conversations is the question, what is the definition of God's "knowledge" about which we are talking? I personally think "knowledge" (of the sort intended as referent in the 1940s debate) is propositional. On the other hand, I've argued that God Himself is not propositional, a set or collection of propositions, etc. 

Instead, then, I think propositions are part or the result of God's activity. Horton knows of an essence-energies distinction. The truth of some propositions may be part or the result of natural (necessary), divine activity - like truths about the Father, Son, and Spirit - whereas the truth of other may be part or the result of freely willed (contingent), divine activity - like the truth about whether or not God creates. In either case, all God's activity is eternal, and all propositions would be eternal.

That is my position. If it's wrong, I'll own it and be happy to learn the truth. But the position of the committee members of the above, OPC report - that propositions are temporal - appears nonsensical to me. Propositional truths (like those in Scripture) don't change. I can only gather, then, that just as whatever else first was created (and, therefore, temporal and contingent), propositions must, in their view, likewise have been immediately and completely created (and, therefore, temporal and contingent). 

That is, had God not created, there would have been no propositional truths. All propositions revealed to us in Scripture would have then been non-existent - even those truths which refer to that which was prior to creation. The absence of ectypal knowers would seem to mean the absence of ectypal knowledge (including propositions).

Now, this begs the question - that only ectypal knowledge is propositional. It really is just a prejudicing of the root of the epistemic question of the 1940s OPC debate: is there any qualitative overlap between the knowledge of God and man? The complainants suggested that there is not. There are a few responses in supply:

- The Son, according to His divinity (not humanity, although the speech is verbal if one wants to be technical), communicates to His divine Father regarding the glory they shared prior to creation, and He does so in terms of propositions. This is does after creation (and incarnation), but it suggests He could have done so beforehand too. It's not as if the divinity of the Son or Father changed after creation.

- If propositional knowledge requires ectypal knowers, then God could not know that which He reveals to us. On the other hand, if propositional knowledge does not require ectypal knowers, that can only mean God can know propositions as well as men. In that case, does He know them (in which case there is qualitative overlap in knowledge between God and man) or not (meaning He doesn't know that which He reveals to us)?

- What even is "archetypal knowledge" according to the OPC committee (complainants, etc.)? It is allegedly a "perfect unity." Does unity imply distinction? Is this an oblique reference to a theory of divine simplicity? In any case, these men can only speak of "archetypal knowledge" from the perspective of "ectypal knowledge" - where is their ectypal evidence, then, for their assertions about archetypal knowledge? 

More responses could be provided (see the Puritanboard link above - read on after post 31), but these are enough to show that those who protested against Clark's views are not without questions in need of answering. In fact, these questions and more have been asked in the past.

Horton's follow-up - in which he finally brings up Van Til - is baffling. He quotes a passage from Van Til's The Defense of the Faith to the effect that "Our knowledge of God is not and cannot be comprehensive," and then Horton immediately says of this, "In his debate with Gordon Clark, Van Til defended the classical Reformed insistence on this distinction" (pg. 136). 

Does he think Clark denied this? What is happening here seems to be an assuming of what needs to be proved: that the meaning of "comprehensive" is something more than the usual meaning of the word, that we cannot have complete or total knowledge of God. Like Dennison, Horton also fails to acknowledge that Clark stated God's mode of knowledge is different from ours. 

Later on the same page, Horton virtually gives the case back to Clark:

As far back as the Fourth Lateran Council, even the medieval church recognized that in ever analogy between God and humans, there is always more dissimilarity than similarity.

Granting this account is true, Clark's point is that there is similarity at all. Similarity (and analogy) presuppose univocity. Two things cannot be similar if there not any sort of overlap between them. But that's just to say that God is not completely Other, and neither is His knowledge. 

The creature is image, God is archetype. The knowledge of the creature is thereby analogous to the knowledge of the Creator. The previous sentences are true given what was just said in the last paragraph. It's when these sentences are stated without any definitions of key terms (or in defining key terms in a way that is self-refuting) that there is a problem. But this is just what Horton does on the next page:

...not even the glorified saints in heaven overcome the Creator-creature distinction in their epistemology any more than in their ontology.

All knowledge of God, therefore, is analogical rather than univocal. (pg. 137)

All of this is a non sequitur. Again, analogy presupposes univocity. No one denies that the Creator-creature distinction is not something to be "overcome" - it is a reality to be acknowledged - but so too must we recognize the Creator-creature overlap lest we follow the likes of Paul Tillich and fail to do justice to man as image of God. We not only empty the word "image" of meaning if we overemphasize our differences with God (innumerable as they are), we by extension unintentionally weaken other doctrines, like the Trinity (cf. the Son as image of the Father).

On pg. 138, in an argument against univocity, Horton suggests we cannot know anything as it is in itself. While cannot have comprehensive knowledge of anything, what Horton says sounds Kantian. Horton's support - which is to defer to Van Til's claim that our knowledge "must be paradoxical" - is anything but convincing, as I discussed in my last post. Horton also conflates what we know (univocally) with how we know it (by revelation vs. autonomously).

After a few pages discussing other theologians, Horton returns to Clark. He may be correct that "Clark was apparently unaware that there even was such a thing as Protestant scholasticism" (pg. 143). On the other hand, on the same page, one can compare Clark's own words to Horton's interpretation of them to see that Horton has badly misunderstood and misrepresented Clark. Here is Horton:

Professor Clark not only fails to properly define analogy; he conflates analogy with “metaphorical or symbolic” language as employed by “the adherents of the dialectical theology” (ibid.). Analogy is distinguished from metaphorical or symbolic approaches in that it affirms the literal truth of its language while not reducing the relation of the two terms to one of identity. The view that all religious language is metaphorical or symbolic is simply a hyper-allegorical view that has nothing in common with an analogical view. 

Here is what Clark actually says in the source material Horton cites (link):

Now Van Til's comment on Thomism is not that analogy is a fruitless expedient, but, quite the reverse, that Romanism does not take analogy seriously enough (p. 56). Romanism still retains too much, shall we say, univocity. Not Christian thought, but, says Van Til, "Non-Christian philosophies hold that human thought is univocal instead of analogical" (p. 65). In view of the fact that Romanism allows univocal predication in the sphere of science and of ordinary experience, Van Til's assertion is most easily understood to mean that univocal predication is impossible for man in any subject. In this Van Til shows a close affinity to neo-orthodoxy. The adherents of the dialectical theology teach that all language, or all religious language, is analogical, metaphorical, or symbolic. Not language only, but conceptual knowledge also. Intellectual knowledge, Es-Wahrheit, is only a pointer, a pointer to something that cannot be thought. Therefore creeds are not to be taken univocally or literally, but in some analogical and therefore undefined meaning.

Clark doesn't "define" analogy, he just outlines what dialectical theology teaches and compares that to "Van Til's assertion," "...most easily understood to mean that univocal predication is impossible for man in any subject." Horton's own statement that a true definition of analogy "affirms the literal truth of its language while not reducing the relation of the two terms to one of identity" doesn't go deep enough into the questions already asked regarding whether similarity and analogy presuppose overlap.

I have probably repeated myself too many times, but here is Horton's final reference to Clark, found in his conclusion:

Evangelical apologists (as well as biblical scholars, theologians, and pastors) are increasingly divided as to how to respond to the crisis of modernity. On one hand are those who apparently cling to the modern project, identifying the crumbling of autonomous foundationalism with the demise of truth itself, Many of these writers carry on the apologetic strategies of Gordon Clark, the medieval synthesis, or evidentialism—usually a combination of these.

But Christianity has never depended on the success or failure of the empires that wax and wane. The “crisis of Western civilization” is not the same as “the crisis of Christianity.” Reformed theology, as we have seen, has long been a critic of the idolatries of the former and can continue to guide our response to the current situation. (pgs. 147-148)

Perhaps some evangelical apologists rely on the apologetic of Clark et al. to respond to the "crisis of modernity." Does Horton mean to intimate these writers conflate said crisis with "the crisis of Christianity"? What if they didn't? Who are these nameless people? 

More importantly, Clark himself did not think "Christianity... depended on the success or failure of the empires that wax and wane." The following might almost be mistaken to be a direct response to Horton, except that Clark wrote it over 50 years beforehand:

It is true, I admit, that while rejecting Spengler's political theory and underlying philosophy, I agree that civilizations have come and gone, empires waxed and waned, and that the U.S.A. will probably not last forever; in fact I hold that our government has deteriorated considerably in the past twenty years; I hold too that the total depravity of man makes political deterioration inevitable and that the only permanent government will be the Kingdom of our Lord Christ. Perhaps this is cynical (i.e. snarling, contemptuous, misanthropic, pessimistic, and gloomy); modernists and humanists regularly say that it is; but I hold that it is unadulterated Christian truth. (link)

John Muether

One final critic I want to analyze is John Muether. I discussed his book co-authored with Daryl Hart in my last post. This one will look at his book, Cornelius Van Til: Reformed apologist and churchman (link). For that reason, this review will be disproportionately longer. Dennison's book covered the entire OPC's history, so Clark references were present but not as prolific. Horton's article was decidedly shorter, of course. 

Muether's book was informative in a few ways. For example, I didn't know Van Til was invited but declined to participate in Clark's festschrift (pg. 112). Also, this early comment caught my eye: 

Readers of Van Til are familiar with his genealogy of non-Reformed apologetics: Aquinas led to Bishop Butler’s analogy, which begot Charles Hodge, who produced Buswell and Clark. (pg. 56)

Clark would have been shocked to be told his apologetic forefather was Aquinas, a man whose apologetic he refuted repeatedly. This somewhat explains "the Butler type of analogy comment from Van Til's lecture cited in my last post on "Clark's Critics." From Rushdoony's By What Standard?, we read:

Van Til is emphatic on the fallacy of all attempts to establish a principle of interpretation other than God. If, after the fashion of Thomas Aquinas and Bishop Butler, we establish a neutral principle of coherence or rationality, or like Clark and Carnell, enthrone the law of contradiction, two major concessions are involved. First, we reason from man’s principle to God and enthrone our law over God as basic to all human and divine process. (pg. 22)

There's the connection, I think. Van Til thought Aquinas, Butler, Clark, and so forth reasoned from a "principle of interpretation other than God." Rushdoony also mentions that Christianity is only probably (i.e. not certainly) true for at least a few of these men. I addressed this in my last post, so I won't dwell on it here, but I'm glad if I have found some clarification of what Van Til and Muether meant.

Another piece of information of which I was unaware was that Clark actually compared Van Til and Barth prior to the 1951 letter I quoted in my last post (cf. Muether, pg. 126, endnote 26). Muether mentions that Van Til wrote to his nephew indicating awareness that Clark compared he and Barth in 1948. I would like to have heard more from Muether on whether Cornelius Van Til offered any pushback to this charge or merely reported it to Henry Van Til, but the tidbit was interesting enough.

There is more from Muether. Van Til apparently wrote (to an unknown addressee) in October of 1953 that:

We went through the same sort of struggle in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church with Dr. Clark. He insisted that there was exact identity of content in the mind of man with the content of the mind of God in his knowledge. Over against this view we argued that man as the creature of God is analogical of God in his knowledge. And we stressed the fact that this meant a one way dependence of man on God. Clark argued that such a view led to equivocism in knowledge.

For all Clark's efforts, years after the controversy, Van Til was still perpetuating what Clark once called "incomprehensible" "false statements" (link). Clark constantly called for precision and, in his mind at least, rarely received it. It is not whether the content is an exact identity (as if we are omniscient), it's whether the what content man has and what content God has means the same - refers to the same object of knowledge (truth). If so, Clark's position is vindicated. If not, then there really is not qualitative overlap between God's knowledge and ours, and it is equivocal to even speak of man's "content" and God's "content" of knowledge. 

I was not aware Van Til (pg. 127) compared Clark to Barth. Given the above, though, it does make some sense:

...as far apart as they were, Barth and Clark shared the common error of a defective starting point, a non-Christian doctrine of creation. No theologian of Van Til's time had a more robust doctrine of creation or explored as fully as Van Til its covenantal character and its philosophical consequences. He often asserted that creation is the foundation stone of Reformed theology. "The most fundamental distinction of orthodox theology, he wrote in The New Modernism, "may be said to be that of Creator and creature."

In other words, Van Til thought Clark did not respect enough the distinction between Creator and creature. Obviously, this involves the doctrine of creation. I said enough on this, I think, in my interaction with Horton, especially in that no Christian (such as Clark) denies a distinction. The question is whether there is a Creator-creature distinction (true) or an absolute divide, dissimilarity, or chasm (false). I don't think it is Clark who missteps here.

Despite the above information - making the book worth the read - Muether gets many things wrong. He says on pgs. 187 and 201 that Van Til "refused to link" Clark with the "new evangelicals." On the contrary, we saw in my last post that Van Til's 1967 lecture on The New Evangelicalism featured Clark quite prominently as an alleged member of this group. Muether's evidence is, according to an endnote, a 1963 letter to Ronald Nash, but Muether doesn't provide the contents of this letter (perhaps he changed his mind within 4 years; I doubt it). 

Muether also makes reference to Clark's "hyper-Calvinistic leanings" with no evidence to support the assertion (pg. 272). The only other time hyper-Calvinism is mentioned is on pg. 107, and that just says "some in the OPC suspected" Clark "of hyper-Calvinism." This is Dennison redux. 

Granted, pg. 272 is found in a sort of appendix called Bibliographic Essay, in which Muether attempts to hurriedly summarize and sometimes provide passing comment on source material, but for that matter, the entire paragraph in which this accusation is found was written in poor taste. It implies that the work of men like Robert Strong and John Frame can be dismissed because they left the OPC - they are "marred by their disillusionment with their former church." Would it be fair to dismiss Muether's work as "marred by his enamourment with his current church"? 

The bulk of Muether's attention toward Clark occurs from pages 98-116. Now, as I said in my last post, I don't really want to go over ground that I think has been sufficiently covered elsewhere. For example, Doug Douma explains why Clark did not return to the OPC in The Presbyterian Philosopher during the 1980s, a fact which Muether raises (pg. 251). And I've said elsewhere that there may be something to the idea the 1940s OPC debate - as I neutrally refer to it nowadays - is  "better described as the Clark-Murray debate" as opposed to Clark-Van Til (link). This same link, though, refutes Muether's following attempt to water down the significance of Clark's nomination of Machen as the first OPC moderator. Here is Muether: 

As a ruling elder in the church since its inception in 1936, Gordon Clark (1902-85) was well known in the denomination, and it was he who nominated J. Gresham Machen as the moderator of that first Assembly. (Clark’s nomination of Machen does not mean that he was an especially close intimate of Machen’s. Machen was surely everyone’s choice as the inaugural moderator of the church, and Clark simply beat other nominators to the floor. Similarly, Van Til’s nomination of Buswell as the moderator of the second assembly was no indication of a close bond between those two.) (pg. 100)

And here is what actually happened:

A caucus of leaders had met prior to the First General Assembly. Those leaders included Dr. Machen and certain men involved in the present controversy. These men were zealous for a pure Calvinistic church as is manifest by the series of articles to which Mr. Heerema referred, "The Reformed Faith and Modern Substitutes." This caucus picked Dr. Gordon H. Clark to nominate Dr. Machen. At that time his differences with Dr. Cornelius Van Til were well known, as those who were students at Westminster Seminary at that time can testify.

Clark didn't beat others nominate Machen before anyone else, as if he was seeking the personal honor. Machen himself (and John Murray, for that matter) were among those who orchestrated ahead of time that Clark would be given the honor. I don't expect Muether or any historian to have all the facts before them. But Muether's suggestion that Clark may not have been a "close intimate of Machen's" shows some ignorance of source material - Clark-Machen letters, the Reformed Fellowship, the League of Evangelical Students, etc.

Speaking of this, as with Dennison and Horton, source material is really needed where Muether provides none. The following has no endnote (by the way, endnotes are infinitely inferior to footnotes), nor is a date even mentioned:

Greater differences began to emerge when Van Til solicited Clark’s feedback on his metaphysics syllabus. In his response, Clark wrote that there was nothing objectionable in the human pursuit of comprehensive knowledge of God. Clark argued that it was sinful to aspire to God’s being but not to his knowledge.

Compare this to Clark's answers during his ordination exam. Here is part of his exchange with Reverend Clelland:

Q You believe the statement in Chapter 2. Section 1, that the one only living and true God is incomprehensible?

A I believe that there are indications in Scripture that when we shall be glorified, our knowledge will continue to increase forever, and that in all probability there will be no end to such increase.

Q That there will always be then, something which we could not yet comprehend?

A It seems to me entirely likely, though the exegeses of it are a little weak, but it seems to me entirely likely that there will always be certain particular truths that we do not know.

If it isn't possible to attain infinite knowledge, wouldn't it be sinful to seek it? Clark's answers here are a bit tentative, but he leans the correct way and may simply have been nervous. It's hard for me to accept what Muether asserts about Clark's "feedback" on Van Til's syllabus. Muether's following sentences on pgs. 101-102 are also source-less:

Later that same spring Clark published “On the Primacy of the Intellect” in the Westminster Theological Journal. Van Til again pressed Clark on the Creator-creature distinction, fearing that Clark’s argument failed to distinguish between a Christian and a pagan understanding of the intellect. Van Til cited Calvin and Warfield to argue that the intellect was no less fallen than other human faculties. Further conversations confirmed for Van Til his suspicion that Clark’s thought was deeply grounded in Greek philosophy; Van Til summed up Clark’s position in the Socratic motto that “knowledge is virtue.”

To be sure, Van Til was willing to affirm the primacy of the intellect in a certain sense: coming to faith is no mere act of emotional enthusiasm. But Van Til believed that faith is deeper than mere assent, because the Word of God makes an impact on the believer’s heart. Van Til feared that Clark’s exclusive emphasis on assent to doctrine denied the demands that Scripture places on the whole man. The Bible shapes what one knows, but also what one loves and how one behaves.

I have read Clark's article on The Primacy of the Intellect (1943) very closely and do not find that Clark says anything remotely close to the idea our intellect was or is unfallen. Nor does Clark even discuss saving faith. Muether's point about "Clark's exclusive emphasis on assent" indicates he is conflating of what Clark believed later in his life with what he believed earlier in it; or if Muether means Van Til argues this against Clark in the 1940s, I want to see where he does this. 

The evidence I can find against this idea is only indirect, but here is a snippet from an article in The Presbyterian Guardian (link). Note that there is no indication that Clark disagreed that there were three elements of saving faith: 

Mr. Hamilton then again rose to deliver another paper on the relation between regeneration and human understanding, which again he said had received Dr. Clark's approval. Confusion was injected, however, by the interpolation of some of Mr. Hamilton's own observations which had not been approved by Dr. Clark. In the course of the speech, Mr. Hamilton declared that notitia (knowledge) and assensus (assent) could be possessed by the unregenerate man but that fiducia (trust) could not. These are three theological terms to designate the three elements of saving faith. Mr. Hamilton was promptly challenged for holding that the unregenerate man possesses two-thirds of the elements of saving faith. On this position, said the complainants, the only thing wrong with the unregenerate man is that his saving faith is one-third incomplete. Moreover, since the answer terms assent the central element in faith, the unregenerate man might then, on Mr. Hamilton's position, be said to possess the central element of saving faith.

Mr. Hamilton then said that he had just been told that Dr. Clark would not agree that the unregenerate man was in possession of the first two of the three elements, but only of the first.

Now, I have read Clark's 1943 article was the tipping point for some concern among men in the OPC. But I have not heard sufficient explanation - with references to the actual article itself - as to why. Clark summarizes the positions of philosophers and theologians, occasionally remarks on which thoughts they had were good or bad, discusses emotions, volition, and intellect as activities (not divided parts) of a man, and then argues that the intellect has primacy because it is that by which we will enjoy God forever. This appears to me to be unrelated to what Muether mentions about the fallenness of the intellect and definition of faith, but since he cites no sources, I have no idea what to think. 

What, then, was the problem? I'll provide some facts and then some speculation. It is a fact that Clark wrote letters - some dating back to at least 1938 - and likely had conversations with Van Til, Buswell, and perhaps others relating to the content of the final article seen in 1943. How Clark's understanding was interpreted in those writings and discussions he had with others prior to the publishing of the 1943 product may have been the underlying cause for concern. An example that comes to mind would be that in "The Primacy of the Intellect," Clark writes:

...voluntarism conceived reality as fundamentally irrational, as ultimately an unknowable mystery before which man must remain a skeptic; whereas intellectualism with a love of truth resolutely affirms that reality is essentially rational, logical, and knowable.

While this may seem innocuous at first glace, it would possibly recall to Van Til's mind (and Buswell's, who read and agreed with Van Til's letter) a letter he wrote to Clark on December 5th, 1938 (link):

If we say that the real is the rational and the rational is the real we must apply this first to God as He exists by Himself apart from the created world. To that we must add the doctrine of creation into nothing. Thus we make a basic distinction between the reach of God's intellect and the reach of man's intellect.

Reality, uncreated reality, divine reality may and must, it seems to me, be forthwith identified with rationality. God's consciousness and His being are coextensive; His being and His attributes are one. Created reality too is rational in the sense that whatsoever comes to pass happens in accord with the counsel of God. On the other hand God might have created the universe otherwise than He did. There might be various rational ways of existing for the created universe. Hence with respect to the created universe we cannot say that the rational is the real.

There is no prior (nor posterior) letter of which I'm aware that was written by Clark to provide context to this. Clark, who gave Buswell access to this letter with Clark's notes in the margins, tells Buswell in a different letter that Van Til quotes him (Clark) from a previous discussion they had, so an in-person conversation may have precipitated Van Til's above letter. Regardless, Van Til is correct to mention God's freedom. To say "the rational is the real" implies creation was and is necessary, that there is a single intelligible world (with Creator and creation) which can comprise reality. This ruins numerous doctrines.

In an ironic, prophetic twist on Clark's negative view of the word "exists" later in his life, Buswell (writing to Clark; letter dated January 26, 1939) adds to Van Til's criticisms: "If you mean that the rational is the whole of reality, then the word rational ceases to have any meaning." Buswell also dislikes a comment Clark wrote in the margins of Van Til's letter. Clark highlighted Van Til's statement that "with respect to the created universe we cannot say that the rational is the real" and wrote in the margins, "In which case the world cannot be known." But Clark's reply to Buswell in a letter from February 9, 1939 somewhat clarifies matters on all these points:

You are perhaps unduly exercised about my note at the top of page two of Van Til’s letter. In reading a letter I sometimes jot down notes hurriedly to guide me in my reply. Van Til said the rational is not the real with respect to the created universe. You take this to mean that there are ideas in God’s mind which are not realized in creation. Quite true; but whether God might have created some other sort of world is a slightly different question, on which Augustine and Anselm disagree... Very consciously I tried to avoid this particular problem in my paper. So there is not the profundity in my note at the top of p.2 of Van Til’s letter which you find there. As a matter of fact, I had in mind the notion that the real is not rational (granted that is not what he said) and I drew the conclusion that it could then not be an object of knowledge.

In other words, Clark wrote a note quickly that didn't respond to what Van Til said but still was of use in that Clark believed both uncreated and created reality must be rational. Clark then used that idea in his article on "The Primacy of the Intellect": reality is rational. The final product does not suggest the converse, and this is where a careful reading is required.

To my knowledge, Van Til was not aware of Clark's exchange with Buswell. That's one reason which may have contributed to any worry Van Til and/or other of his acquaintances may have had about the 1943 article. Another might be the further suggestions that the discussions between Van Til and Clark revolving around Van Til's December 5th letter definitely contributed to Clark's 1943 article. For example: 

- From both Van Til's letter and the 1943 article (Van Til may have been quoting Clark from a prior conversation): "Life is not deeper than logic." 

- Van Til from his letter: "As we say, personality is a unit, which thinks and wills and loves. Psychologically we may and must speak of the priority of the intellect but not logically." On the other hand, Clark from the 1943 article: "Each man is a single personality... The question at issue, then, treats not of the temporal order but of the logical order, or to repeat more exactly, of an order determined by the degree to which these actions unite us to God." This indicates a disagreement between Van Til and Clark. 

- Another disagreement is that Clark speaks of intellect as the only "mode of action" by which our telos can be fulfilled, i.e. to contemplate God. Clark: "if in Christianity the end of all human endeavor is to see or contemplate God, evidently the desire for God or the love of God is subordinate." Contrast this to Van Til: "The 'vision of deity' is no more ultimate as an end for man than the love of deity or the work for deity" (vision of deity is in quotes because Van Til is quoting Clark).

Perhaps more examples could be given, but this sufficiently shows that "The Primacy of the Intellect" was long in the making. Clark definitively staked out a different position than Van Til. But to assert Clark's position was "pagan" or "grounded in Greek philosophy" takes a little more effort to substantiate, especially since these do not deal with Clark's arguments. 

As I said, those are the facts. Now, the speculation: while not said in print, it may have been clear to many OPC churchmen that for the first time, Clark publicly opposed Van Til on intellectual grounds. It was only during Clark's examination that these men had an opportunity to challenge Clark with little to lose. 

[As a side note, the stenographic record (link, link) is obviously wrong in some places. For example, "the premise of the intellect" should obviously be "the primacy of the intellect" - the men are clearly questioning Clark based on his 1943 article.]

In his examination, Clark answers Welmers and Stonehouse - both of whom unsurprisingly turned out to be complainants - very thoroughly when they ask about this article, even citing John 17:3 as (a non-pagan, non-Greek) reason for his views. It is a shame Stonehouse was cut off just as it seems he was about to elaborate on "a deep-seated difference between" his and Clark's conceptions. Following this exam, the next significant mention of Clark's article or its contents was The Complaint and The Answer themselves (and since Muether mentioned him as a source Van Til used, note Clark's citations of Calvin; pgs. 23-24 in Douma's typed version), and here, I think, we can stop.

In terms of issues at stake regarding Clark's ordination, Muether mentions procedure, theology, and ecclesiology. The last one is a familiar topic, since Muether mentions it in his books with Hart (cf. my last post):

Should the church cooperate with other forms of conservative Protestantism in America? Or ought it to preserve its distinctively Reformed identity? How could the church best combat the modernism of its day: by joining the emerging evangelical movement or by defending and propagating the Westminster Standards? (pg. 103)

This is an unjustified dichotomy. It presupposes a both-and answer isn't possible. Maybe that's true, but it isn't obvious to me, and it is more or less an unargued assumption in many of the OPC historical works I've read. See my interaction with Dennison above.

As an aside, though, I'd like to mention a point that often gets brushed over: the procedural question. Take the Presbytery of Philadelphia, which was found to be in error on failing to follow the Form of Government in acting too hastily regarding Clark's examination process. This is usually all that is said about the matter, but minutes from the Presbytery of Ohio tell a different story. The following is a communication to the 14th OPC General Assembly recorded in the Ohio Presbytery's minutes from the their meeting on April 8, 1947:

The four ministers who reside within the bounds of the Presbytery of Ohio were compelled, by their calling and by the failure of the Thirteenth General Assembly to finish its business in five days, to return to their pressing duties and to miss the final sessions of that Assembly. It is common knowledge that commissioners from other Presbyteries also were likewise compelled to miss the final sessions.

The Presbytery of Ohio therefore requests the Fourteenth General Assembly to make strenuous efforts to finish its business before too many of the commissioners must leave.

If this is impossible, the Presbytery of Ohio implores the Fourteenth General Assembly, in the interests of justice, not to make decisions in the final sessions on matters of vital importance to the Church as a whole; but to confine its actions to routine matters.

Some of us came out of the Presbyterian Church in the U. S. A., and we know the practice of deferring important matters to the closing session. This practice is not conducive to justice and fair dealing. The Thirteenth General Assembly in the evening session of its last day, after a noticeable proportion of the commissioners had left, took action with regard to a matter that had presumably been settled three days previously. This action was taken after the time limit for reconsideration had expired.

The injustice of this action is further seen in the fact that that Assembly, diminished in numbers, elected a quasi-judicial committee in which one of the interested parties but not the other of the interested parties was represented.

The Presbytery of Ohio therefore prayerfully implores the Fourteenth General Assembly to proceed with justice and equity.

Sincerely yours, MARTIN J. BOHN, 

Stated Clerk Presbytery of Ohio

These minutes confirm Clark and the only three other ministers of his presbytery (4 total - Thomas Gregory was ordained later that year as a 5th member) missed the final, Monday sessions of the 13th OPC General Assembly. This is important, as it was during these late, final sessions that the following occurred (link):

It was moved and carried that this Assembly instruct the Clerk of the Assembly to inform the Presbytery of Philadelphia of the action of the Assembly, to wit, that “this Assembly finds that there is ground for complaint against the Presbytery of Philadelphia and declares that the Presbytery of Philadelphia, at its meeting on July 7, 1944, erred in the decision to deem the examination sufficient for ordination, and in the decision to ordain Dr. Gordon H. Clark at a subsequent meeting of the Presbytery called for that purpose, in that the Presbytery failed to observe the plain intent of the provisions of the Form of Government (XIV, 1 and XV, ll), in circumstances which made the propriety of these provisions apparent.” This Assembly also. implores the Presbytery of Philadelphia to make acknowledgment of these errors and of its failure thereby to preserve the peace of the Church, and to report accordingly to the Fourteenth General Assembly... 

It was moved that: 

Whereas the purity and the peace of The Orthodox Presbyterian Church are of the deepest concern to the General Assembly, and 

Whereas “to the General Assembly. . . belongs the power of deciding in all controversies regarding doctrine . . ." (Form of Government, XI, 5), and 

Whereas there has appeared to be a difference in our Church concerning the Scriptural teaching pertaining to the doctrines of the incomprehensibility of God, the position of the intellect in reference to other faculties, the relation of divine sovereignty and human responsibility, and. the free offer of the gospel, 

Be it resolved that Messrs. Murray, Clowney, R. Gray, W. Young and Stonehouse be appointed to study these doctrines in the light of Scripture and the Westminster Standards in relation to all expressions of views on the doctrines that have appeared or may appear in connection with the discussion of the Complaint against the Presbytery of Philadelphia in the matter of the licensure and ordination of Dr. Gordon H. Clark, for the purpose of clarifying these matters, and report to the Fourteenth General Assembly.

In other words, Clark left the 13th General Assembly unaware that of what happened in the Monday afternoon and evening sessions, including the movement made to form a study committee stacked with ministers whom he, as an "interested party," found no representation. This is all the more important when one considers Muether's point that:

Strictly speaking the General Assembly never addressed the substance of the complaint against Clark. Instead, it assigned the theological issues of the debate to study committees that reported over the course of three years, and these reports were distributed to congregations for their study. (pg. 103)

I don't find (and this could be my mistake) any reference in the minutes for the 13th General Assembly as to how this committee was elected - or how the committee itself was even proposed. Three of the five members were from the study committee formed by the 12th General Assembly; Stonehouse surely would not have been viewed as a welcome addition by Clark. The Ohio presbytery's allusion to the injustice of the PCUSA is quite striking - Clark is nearly being styled as a new Machen.

If not a procedural error, the Ohio Presbytery certainly was not happy with the conduct of the 13th General Assembly. Sympathizers with Clark (and Clark himself) appear to have had good reason to be upset at important decisions - decisions about presbytery fault and committees which would inform and color the minds of OPC commissioners less able to devote time to study of the issues in The Complaint and The Answer - made during extra meetings without any prior indication given to officers who had to leave at the expected time. 

Here's how the 14th General Assembly's COMMITTEE ON OVERTURES AND COMMUNICATIONS responded to the Ohio Presbytery:

8. With regard to the communication from the Presbytery of Ohio imploring the Assembly to conclude important business in five days, the committee recommends that the Assembly take cognizance.

The final note on how the 14th General Assembly itself reacted to this recommendation is anti-climactic:

It was moved and carried that the Assembly take no action on the eighth recommendation.

So, after all, the Presbytery of Philadelphia was "implored" to acknowledge error, and it did so... barely. Muether reports that "The Presbytery registered its contrition by the slim margin of 16-14" (pg. 103). Well, if the imploring occurred after many interested commissioners went home - again, not a procedural error, but, perhaps, a bad look - the reticence of some members of the Philadelphia presbytery makes sense. 

Clark would later rebuff his old Philadelphia presbytery for an actual procedural mistake in his tenure within the Ohio Presbytery: 

The Presbytery of Ohio of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church hereby replies to the Presbytery of Philadelphia, relative to the latter's complaint dated July 21, 1947:

The said complaint states that the Presbytery of Ohio acted illegally in receiving licentiate Thomas M. Gregory. The ground alleged in support of this charge is an action of the complaining Presbytery relative to granting licentiate Thomas M. Gregory a letter of dismissal.

The Presbytery of Ohio wishes it to be known that its action commenced with the presentation of the letter of dismissal. The Form of Government, Chapter XX, states, "It shall be the duty of the clerk... to grant extracts from them (the minutes) whenever properly required; and such extracts under the hand of the clerk shall be considered as authentic vouchers of the fact which they declare, in any ecclesiastical judicatory and to every part of the church."

Whatever method the Presbytery of Philadelphia chose to follow in granting the letter of dismissal could not properly have been and was not a matter for the Presbytery of Ohio to act upon.

The Presbytery of Philadelphia seems to believe that Mr. Gregory was not a resident of the state of Indiana when he was received by the Presbytery of Ohio. The fact of the matter is that Mr. Gregory has established residence in Indiana before he was received. However, this has no bearing on the case, and the Presbytery of Ohio repudiates the notion that such a consideration was or ought to have been before it. The Presbytery of Ohio received Mr. Gregory on the basis of a regular letter of dismissal from the Presbytery of Philadelphia. There is nothing illegal in such a procedure.

The Presbytery of Philadelphia in the second part of the same complaint charges that the Presbytery of Ohio ordained Mr. Gregory illegally. The ground alleged in support of this charge is that Mr. Gregory had no call warranting ordination.

The Presbytery of Ohio replies that the determination of such a question of fact lies in the discretion of the examining Presbytery. Questions of fact that are placed in the discretion of Presbyteries cannot be reviewed by another Presbytery or even by a higher court. An attempt to sit in judgment on matters within the discretion of another Presbytery is in effect an attempt to destroy Presbyterian polity. If such a complaint were allowed standing in a court, it would mean that every ordination and every action of every Presbytery might have to await the approval of the Presbytery of Philadelphia. The Presbytery of Ohio therefore is compelled to reject the complaint addressed to it by the Presbytery of Philadelphia.

Clark (who wrote the above) defended the ordination of a man against the very Presbytery which questioned his own ordination. The Presbytery of Philadelphia seems to have backed off, and Mr. Gregory's ordination stood.

Perhaps these observations are incidental to Muether, but as much as I have heard OPC historians remark that the broader ecclesiastic and cultural views played a bigger role in the 1940s debate than some have thought - it's not all just about the theology - I haven't heard as much about the loosely "procedural" dimensions. There is much background context to the 1940s debate that has not been available to the public, so I thought to include some of that context here just as example of how much influence one can have (or try to have) without relevant parties (Clark, OPC commissioners) even being present.

Moving on, Muether's summary of the incomprehensibility of God question (pgs. 104-105) is typical and does not need comment, especially since I've already said so much about that. What is worth comment is Muether's following citation of Robert Strong, a supporter of Clark. Strong said Clark's ordination was "a very great victory" for the church because it recognized that "there could be some difference at minor points without a man's loyalty to the system of doctrine being impeached." 

In his book, Muether adds in brackets "[of the Westminster Standards]" after "system of doctrine" and makes an interpretive statement of Strong's citation that I don't understand. Muether says, "This was a revealing statement, because Clark himself never conceded that his views required an exception from the church's standards" (pg. 105). 

Maybe I'm reading the Strong or Muether horribly wrong, but this doesn't make any sense to me. Strong wasn't saying anything close to the idea that Clark's views required an exception; he was saying the opposite and celebrating that especially on points where the Westminster Standards are silent, "there could be some difference" while yet allowing that both sides are loyal Presbyterians. I have no idea what Muether means by Strong's statement being "revealing" of something. Strong may well have had in mind something like what he helped with as Committee Secretary of The Answer:

The second problem of this section is one of human psychology, and its discussion will again underline the fact that the Complaint is not a matter of the doctrines of the Westminster Confession but of technical and abstruse subtleties more suitable for philosophers than for preachers. 

The rest of what Muether says about Strong can be skipped, as can his comments about "whether the church's ecclesiology would be Reformed or evangelical" (pg. 107). There isn't anything Muether says that hasn't already been discussed or accounted for above or in one of the links at the beginning of this post. The next interesting thing Muether says is found on pg. 108:

By the controversy’s end they had persuaded the church that its Reformed militancy needed to express itself in careful distinction from Reformed evangelicalism. It is in this sense that Van Til “won” the debate, and in the larger context of Reformed ecclesiology, Van Til’s role in the Clark controversy, far from being an embarrassment, should be interpreted as one of his finest moments.

Over whom was Van Til victorious? Clark? If that is Muether's implication, he has not nearly established Clark's Reformed views were one rather than the other, as if they can't be both. This was addressed in my last post, and it also applies to Dennison. 

Further, on the point of Reformed ecclesiology, there may have been some ecclesiological questions - including whether Westminster Theological Seminary should remain independent, which is not, as far as I can tell, mentioned by Muether - but so far as Clark is strictly concerned, the 1940s debate must remain a strictly theological matter.

There remain only a few matters on which I will comment. Much of Van Til's admiration for Murray, Klooster, and Bavinck as well as Reymond's admiration for Clark can be omitted, but to just point out how easy it is for contemporary theologians to speak in terms which will give a wrong view of those with whom they disagree, take Muether here:

If Clark and Reymond resisted the notions of mystery, Van Til found himself at home with that expression, because of his deeper commitment to revelation and covenant. Van Til was comfortable even to the point of embracing the language of his mentor, Herman Bavinck, that “mystery is the life of all dogmatics.” Because the finite cannot contain the infinite, Bavinck underscored that the revelation of the infinite God to the finite creature cannot be exhaustive of the being of God, and so God remains incomprehensible. (pg. 110)

"Mystery" must mean "paradox." In any case, nothing Bavinck says in the highlighted portion is disagreeable with what Clark argued. Clark didn't argue we exhaust God, so if that were the only question, the whole debate would have been moot. The highlighted portion simply has nothing to do with Clark's concerns, but Muether gives the impression that Van Til was opposed by them on this point. 

Speaking of Bavinck, buried in an endnote is a definition of analogical knowledge according to Bavinck, though. On pg. 250, Muether references Bavinck's Reformed Dogmatic, 2:28, which states:

The knowledge we have of God is altogether unique. This knowledge may be called positive insofar as by it we recognize a being infinite and distinct from all finite creatures. On the other hand, it is negative because we cannot ascribe a single predicate to God as we conceive that predicate in relation to creatures. It is therefore an analogical knowledge: a knowledge of a being who is unknowable in himself, yet able to make something of himself known in the being he created. Here, indeed, lies something of an antinomy. Rather, agnosticism, suffering from a confusion of concepts, sees here an irresolvable contradiction in what Christian theology regards as an adorable mystery. It is completely incomprehensible to us how God can reveal himself and to some extent make himself known in created beings: eternity in time, immensity in space, infinity in the finite, immutability in change, being in becoming, the all, as it were, in that which is nothing.

In other words, when we say "God is good" and "man is good," "good" cannot be ascribed to God as it is to creatures. And this goes for every single predicate. So it isn't just that "good" means something different when ascribed to God, it means something totally different. Were this not the case, we could then use a single predicate to meaningfully ascribe similarity regarding what "good" means. This is equivocity, not analogicity.

This criticism will sound familiar to those who have actually read the whole of this long-winded post, for it is yet again the same criticism that "analogical knowledge" is a misnomer as it is applied by Van Til, the other complainants, and, it seems his Dutch forefather. 

On another note, Muether says Nash called Clark a "rationalist presuppositionalist" and Van Til a "revelational presuppositionalist" (pg. 113). If there is one persisting complaint I have, it's that Muether does not provide enough sources for his statements. I would have been interested in following up on this, but yet again, I have nothing to go on.

To close with one more engagement with Muether, he criticizes Clark for violating a common classroom illustration by Van Til. Pay attention to the kicker at the end:

The most memorable feature of Van Til’s teaching involved a diagram of the two circles that he drew in his classroom lectures. Van Til positioned the larger one above the smaller one, and the two did not overlap. The former represented God, and the latter the world that he created, which was always dependent upon God and his revelation. The two circles represented not only the creaturely and analogical standing of humanity and God’s transcendence, but as Van Til connected them with two vertical lines, they indicated man’s covenantal standing before God. By connecting creation and covenant in this way, Van Til established the similarity of the being and knowledge of man, as God’s image bearer, with God’s while denying their identity at any point. Gordon Clark, intolerant of any notion of mystery, committed the error of allowing the circles to touch. (pg. 116)

Two last points on this:

1) Muether admits that there must be "similarity of the being and knowledge of man, as God's image bearer, with [God]..." This is an admission which, as I said with Horton, gives the case away. If analogy does indeed involve similarity, it involves overlap. It is unintelligible to compare two subjects, call them similar, and yet have no account for the similarity. On the other hand, any such account will involve univocal predication, for whatever is taken to be the account for the similarity will also be that whereby univocal predication is possible. 

Example: is Van Til's account that of "connecting creation and covenant"? If so, then "God is covenanted" and "man is covenanted" mean the same thing. If not, there is no similarity after all, for the meaning is equivocal. We can and should qualify these propositions by adding information - "God is covenanted [in that He is the Suzerain]," "man is covenanted [in that he is the vassal]" (or whatever) - but the content of the additional information will not change the content of the simple, singular predication. 

2) Van Til seems to have forgotten what he wrote to Clark in the December 5th, 1938 letter. God must be considered first as apart from creation. Drawing two circles already presupposes two realities. More accurate, I think, would be to make the creation circle dotted rather than solid to indicate its contingency. 

Further, on the assumption of creation, these circles are similar insofar as they are circles - why does it matter if they touch? "Similarity" returns us to point 1). It doesn't matter that God needed to breathe "life" ("color" might be apt if Van Til had used a markerboard) into creation. That's the trouble with illustrations, especially in this context: no matter if Van Til were to make different colors, shapes, or drawings, the nature of his attempted illustration itself requires a comparison between two of some same, univocal category (that is, between two colors, shapes, drawings, etc.). 

So it is with language, and I would not think Muether has plans to pull up a Wittgensteinian ladder by discarding the very revelation we use to talk about God, nor do I think Van Til would discard the use of "reality" in his "analogization" (let's say) of Creator to creation.

Finally, if the circles are just to illustrate the dependence of creature on God and His revelation, Clark would never have allowed the circles to touch if that mean some part of creation did not stand in such a dependence relation. If Van Til or Muether were to reply that while this may not have been Clark's intent, he nevertheless did so in his refusal to accept man's "analogical standing," these men have much they need to respond to - see this entire post - before that charge can be taken seriously.

Postscript

The nature of the content discussed and resultant disagreement can tend to give an unwanted impression. These men have all labored for the kingdom of God. I appreciate the work they have done and continue to do for my church, for I too attend and love the OPC. I have tried to restrict my comments to the relevant content, so if anything else seems to have bled through the text, it is unintentional.