Necessitarianism and "Eternal Omniscience"

I still intend to give a fuller treatment of necessitarianism to which I have alluded in a couple other posts (link, link). But after recently finding another piece by Gordon Clark that had not yet been made available online (link), I am prompted to briefly mention two points on the subject:

Firstly, I believe the proposed timeline I constructed as to when Clark changed his mind on the issue of necessitarianism has been strengthened. I wrote:

Given the unqualified disparagement, I take the above to be an argument meant against necessitarianism in general as well as against the Stoics in particular. Then, further, the following was written in 1963, when I gather Clark still rejected necessitarianism...

Now, compare the above to later works in which Clark has - for reasons I again will address elsewhere - revised his view and come to accept necessitarianism. The first two citations are from Clark's books The Trinity (originally published in 1985) and The Atonement (originally published in 1987). Clark had finished both as early as 1977 and had hoped would be published as early as 1978 as parts of a larger book - a systematic theology (link). Some time in this timeframe between 1963 and 1977, it seems Clark's views changed.

For if one reads Clark's reply to Daane (whose thoughts, by the way, I am not intending to defend; while researching material on Clark, I stumbled across what I can only charitably describe as a haphazard, unhelpful "review" that Daane wrote against Clark's book on predestination), Clark appears to deny that divine freedom implies contingent truths. Leaving aside Daane's views in his book, note Clark's own position that he defends in the following quotes from his own 1977 book review of Daane:

Though it may at first be difficult to see what Daane meant by freedom, it soon becomes clear that he does not mean freedom from external control. No doubt God is free from external control, but for Daane this is by no means sufficient for the doctrine of God.

What is worse, or at least what is more obviously unscriptural, Daane argues: "In his freedom God decreed. As an unnecessary decree, as a decree that bears the pedigree of the historical, it might not have been" (p. 77). This means, does it not, that the truth, "Judas betrayed Christ," might never have become true? And though Christ was slain from the foundation of the world, historically Jesus might not have been crucified...

One must face the question, being the kind of God he is, could God have decided against Christ's being crucified before the foundation of the world? Presumably Daane says yes. But then Daane's God is not really the God whom the Bible presents. Omniscience makes Daane's God impossible.

On page 162 we read, "God's creation of the world as his free act is not contrary to rationality, but something other than his rationality requires." On the following page he continues: "Either alternative would accord with his nature." But this statement is something neither Daane nor anyone else can possibly know. Admittedly it seems very plausible to most people that God's nature does not require ten planets in the solar system rather than only six. So far as omnipotence is concerned God could have made this system with any number of planets. But though this is so plausible when omnipotence along is considered, the situation is different when we take omniscience into account. Since there is much that is not revealed in Scripture, our ignorance is such that we cannot know that "either alternative accords with his nature." Therefore, unless Daane can support his premise, there is no reason to accept his conclusion.

Clark intimates that because Christ was [decreed to be] slain from the foundation of the world, the eternal decree itself was or is necessitated (which does not follow). Clark then appeals to God's omniscience several times to support his view, as if Daane is on shaky ground for believing God's eternal decree is not necessitated - by anything external, of course, but also not by anything internal to God. 

For whatever else Daane may have written, I believe he is well supported by Reformed tradition for implicitly distinguishing between God's necessary/natural knowledge and God's free/decretal knowledge. Read, for example, Richard Muller's Post Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, Vol. III, pg. 412ff. It is Clark who needs to elaborate on why he thinks omniscience precludes divine "free knowledge." He may do so in other place, but he did not do so in this article.

The second point I want to mention in this post is about the very motivation for eternal omniscience on a necessitarian view - or rather, the lack thereof. To do that, I will first quote a recent argument I made against necessitarianism:

Consider what it would mean for God and creation to be ontologically distinct yet for the latter to be necessitated by the former. This would be analogous to a particular understanding of the doctrine of eternal generation - which, even if untrue, highlights the point. If the Father necessarily generates the Son, the Father and Son would be mutually dependent upon one another. Obviously, the Son would depend upon the Father, being necessitated by Him. In turn, however, the Father could be who He is ("Father") without a Son.

So, too, a necessitated creation would mean that the Creator and creature are mutually dependent such that God cannot be who He is ("Creator") without a creation. If necessitarianism is true, then God not only needs to create to be Creator, He needs to be Creator. Creation is no longer contingent, so God as Creator isn't a contingent predicate either. Indeed, it's essential or necessary that He be Creator. There is, then, a real dependence on creation in order for one to be able to refer to God as what He essentially and necessarily must be - Creator.

The point needn't be that the Father-Son relationship is exactly the same as the Creator-creature relationship. One could maintain (as I did and do) that the Father and Son are of the same nature, whereas God and creation are not. In both cases, however, necessitation entails mutual dependency, and this is what changed my mind.

[Side note: on a theistic-contingentarian position, God is still the Creator, but such is not essential to who He is. There is no mutual dependency, guarding divine sufficiency. On theistic-necessitarianism, on the other hand, there is no apparent reason why being "Creator" would be any less integral to the essence of God than any commonly regarded divine attribute. Indeed, perhaps this line of reasoning begins to show that Karofsky's reductive monism does follow from necessitarianism (and, hence, why Christians must disagree with Karofsky).]

In short, for a Christian, theistic-necessitarianism is caught on the horns of a dilemma: 1) a pantheistic concession (such as a theistic-Karofskyan necessitarian would make) would salvage the doctrine of divine sufficiency at the expense of the Creator-creature distinction; 2) on the other hand, a concession that there is a mutual dependency between an ontologically distinct Creator and creation would salvage the doctrine of the Creator-creature distinction at the expense of divine sufficiency.

In bold is one argument I would present against Clark's necessitarianism. Now, further notice that because necessitarianism precludes divine sufficiency, there is less motivation to believe God is eternally omniscient.

What I mean by that is this: one reason I reject libertarian accounts of free will would be that I think such accounts preclude divine sufficiency, for God['s knowledge] would then be contingent on His creation. In fact, this was instrumental to my personal attraction to Reformed theology. To protect divine sufficiency, I would argue God's knowledge must be eternal and not contingent on anything external to His own nature and will (i.e. what I call "eternal omniscience" for shorthand).

But if divine sufficiency is denied (as a necessitarian must do to remain relatively consistent), then that is one less reason to believe eternal omniscience. Clark may argue for eternal omniscience on other bases, but significant portions of his book Predestination would have to be revised, such as:

In contrast with Calvinism the Arminian theory of the will may be called the theory of contingency. Or it may be described as the liberty of indifference: That is to say, no motives determine the will. It can choose the weaker motive over the stronger, or, what is more to the point, it can choose without any motive at all. This ability is frequently called the power of contrary choice. Given a set of antecedents, not only external but also internal, the will’s decision could have been the reverse of what it was. A contingent event is one which may or may not happen. It is devoid of certainty, and therefore cannot be foreknown or predicted. Thus the doctrine of free will is a denial of omniscience. (Predestination, Appendix on "Predestination in the Old Testament")

If necessitarianism allows that God necessarily depends on there being a creation to Himself be [Creator], then God is not divinely sufficient, and Clark's above argument is itself insufficient against Arminianism on this point. And while Clark does, in other parts of the book, certainly supports "eternal omniscience" exegetically, if we stop and think about it, rather than it being the case that the traditional Reformed view on divine free knowledge undermines "eternal omniscience," Clark's view undermines it. 

For if God depends on creation to be [Creator], there can be no a priori reason for supposing it is wrong that God's knowledge also depends on creation. Indeed, it would seem that on necessitarianism, God's knowledge "I am Creator" does depend on creation. Thus, it doesn't appear that theistic necessitarianism can be consistent with eternal omniscience. On theistic necessitarianism, divine eternity and divine sufficiency are undermined.

Clark on Salvation, Sanctification, and Synergism

While writing a review the Appendix to Scripturalism and the Senses, a slightly off-topic comment Mr. Lazar made recalled to mind a similar position staked out by John Robbins. Mr. Lazar writes, "Clark denied an Arminian can 'consistently be assured of his salvation' because they deny divine monergism. Instead, they believe in synergism—that man cooperates (ergism) with (syn) God in salvation" (pg. 162). 

Mr. Lazar provides no relevant citation for this assertion. Instead, what is referenced - and is true - is that Clark denied that Arminians can consistently have assurance due to their affirmation of libertarian free will, freedom which would logically preclude knowledge of whether they may deny the faith in the future. For example:

...if predestination is false, what becomes of our assurance of salvation and the perseverance of the saints? If God has not from all eternity decided to preserve me in grace, do I have any spiritual power in myself to persevere to the end? And if I have such power, would not salvation be achieved through my own efforts and by my own merits, rather than by God's grace? (link)

Clark, of course, rejected libertarian free will. Yet - as I've argued elsewhere (link, link, link, link) Clark also held that synergism - "that man cooperates (ergism) with (syn) God in salvation" - does occur, at least within the salvific context of progressive sanctification. While a proper understanding of such synergy presupposes the predestination of God to preserve us in grace, these two ideas do not conflict. The following eight citations, all written at various times in Clark's life, are evidences of this fact:

When we consider the omnipotence of God, we may wonder why he does not accomplish the work of purification and sanctification in us instantaneously. God could, no doubt, make us perfect all at once, but, none the less, he takes time. Some people chafe under the burden of becoming righteous slowly; they look for some short-cut. If God justifies by faith, they ask, why does he not also sanctify by faith? And because of impatience, a few Christians try to satisfy themselves with a perfection which, though not perfect, is at least apparently attainable all at once. The Scriptures, however, teach something different. We have seen that our members must be instruments of righteousness; in the verse following, (Rom. 6:16ff) we have the illustration of slavery and servitude, which obviously is not an instantaneous act, but a continuous condition of life. The point is stressed in other passages of Scripture. Phil. 2:12, 13 says, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling of course, God works in us; the point to be noted is that it is a work and not a single act. Or we may turn to Gal. 6:5, which says, every man shall bear his own burden. The Christian life, then, has burdens that take time to bear. Or again, in 1 Cor. 3:9, we are laborers together with God. Therefore we should not indulge ourselves in the hope of an easy, instantaneous sanctification, but rather run with patience the race that is set before us. (1945. Romans Six. The Quarryvillian, 1 June, 2, link)

That sanctification is a struggle is plainly stated in Scripture. Romans 7:23 and its context show how Paul struggled. Note that he is here describing his experiences after regeneration. He could not earlier have said, “I delight in the law of God after the inward man.” The phrase in 2 Corinthians 10:3, “For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war after the flesh,” indicates a war. Paul here makes a play of words by using flesh in two different senses First Timothy 1:18 describes Timothy’s sanctification as a good warfare. And in 6:12 Paul urges him to “Fight the good fight of faith.” See also 2 Timothy 2:3.
But the fullest statement that the Christian life is a warfare comes in Ephesians 6:10-17. The whole armor of God is needed to withstand the wiles of the devil; we wrestle against the rulers of darkness; we need a breastplate, a shield, a helmet, and especially a sword. And we need perseverance. 

The theologian today and the man in the pews must recognize that this warfare is conducted in the power of the Spirit. Were not the right man on our side, our striving would be losing. 

But there is a difference between regeneration and sanctification. As to the former, “we are altogether passive therein.” In the latter we struggle. One must not deny either the Spirit’s power or our activity. 

Certain popular Bible teachers have been so impressed by the power of the Spirit that they deny our need to struggle. When I was a boy, my aunt, previously a missionary to the Mormons, gave me Hannah Smith’s The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life. Fortunately I was too young to understand it. Somewhat hypocritically, as it seems to me now, Mrs. Smith wrote in her Preface, “I do not want to change the theological views of a single individual. The truths I have to tell are not theological, but practical” (p. vi). When she adds, “They will fit in with every creed, she is certainly asserting a falsehood.
The Keswick movement, of which I think Mrs. Smith and her husband were a part, used such phrases as “Let go, and let God”; “We must not try to sin”; “Let him do it all.” For example, Mrs. Smith declares, “Man’s part is to trust, and God’s part is to work…. Either we must do it for ourselves, or someone must do it for us… it is something we are unable to do…. Plainly the believer can do nothing but trust…. Surrender and trust… is positively all the man can do We do not do anything, but He does it” (p. 29-31). 

As a dedicated, and many will say extreme, Calvinist, I more than gladly insist on God’s doings. No one understands much of the Bible unless he believes in sovereign predestination. But if God predestinated Calvin to write the Institutes, and if God has predestinated me to write this greatly inferior booklet, it was nonetheless Calvin and it is nonetheless I who must put down the words on paper. Mrs. Smith’s statement, “Either we must do it ourselves, or someone must do it for us,” is in its context a false disjunction. Both Calvin and God did the Institutes. And in an even stricter sense both God and Moses wrote the Pentateuch. They cooperated, and as in all cooperation their precise activities in producing the result were different. God is the source of our abilities and the effective determiner of how we use them. But it is we ourselves who must fight the good fight and run the straight race through God’s grace. (The Holy Spirit, pgs. 46-48) 

But there is a difference between regeneration and sanctification. As to the former “we are altogether passive therein.” In the latter we struggle. One must not deny either the Spirit’s power or our activity. The two of us must cooperate. You see there is no synergism is regeneration, but there is in sanctification. (Audio lecture on Sanctification, link)

Sanctification is the life process of growing in holiness. And this requires effort (Gal. 5:17; Jas. 4:7; I Pet. 2:11). (The Biblical Expositor: Volume III, pg. 249) 

Not only do destructive critics make such mistakes; many sincere and devout worshippers are also confused. They often say that we are saved by faith alone. This of course is false. We are justified by faith alone; but we are regenerated without any previous faith or works; we are sanctified by faith and works; and we shall be glorified by neither. A closer study of Scripture would help us avoid confusion relative to the several distinct phases of an all-inclusive salvation. (The Pastoral Epistles, pg. 133) 

What then is the object of fear in these verses? To begin with, is it plausible that Paul is warning the Philippians to fear damnation when he himself was confident (1:6 says confident or being persuaded) that God would complete the work he had begun? Notice that in some instances the antonym of fear is pride. Proverbs 23:17 speaks of fear as reverence or submission. Proverbs 28:4 contrasts fear with the hardening of the heart. Hebrews 12:28 speaks of reverence and godly fear. In 1 Peter 1:17 fear is virtually gratitude and awe. Jeremiah 32:40 says, “I will put my fear in their hearts that they shall not depart from me.” The fear itself is a basis of assurance and confidence. Does this not cover the Arminians with shame?

It must also be noted that salvation has several aspects. Some people say, “I was saved on December 31 at 6:05 p.m.” If the statement is true, it can mean only that they were regenerated at that time. But sanctification and eventually glorification are also parts of salvation. Therefore when Paul says, “Work out your own salvation,” thereby indicating a process, he is referring to sanctification and not to regeneration. Once again this ties in with God’s beginning a work that proceeds go to completion. In this process, as is absolutely not the case in regeneration or justification, we have some work to do. And God works in us, not only to do such work, but beforehand to will such work. (Philippians, pgs. 73-74)

Let us be quite clear on the fact that the Bible does not teach salvation by faith alone. The Bible teaches justification by faith alone. Justification then necessarily is followed by a process of sanctification, and this consists of works which we do. It consists of external actions initiated by internal volitions. We must therefore work out our own salvation; and this in fear and trembling, because we must depend on God. (Predestination, Chapter 6)

An associated group, the World Evangelical Fellowship, has a slightly different creed. One of its phrases is ‘salvation by faith apart from works.’ This surely is not Romish, but neither is it evangelical; for while the Bible definitely teaches justification by faith alone, it also teaches that sanctification, an essential part of salvation, involves a life of good works. See Romans 6. (1958. Fundamentalists, Evangelicals, and Billy Graham, The Reformed Presbyterian Advocate Vol 92 No 6, June-July: 65-66, 70, 76, link)  

I believe these demonstrate that in Clark's mind (and mine), a proper understanding of "synergism" or co-operation does not entail libertarian free will. That is, contrary to Arminians, "God is the source of our abilities and the effective determiner of how we use them." But, contrary to Mr. Lazar, we are not "altogether passive" in progressive sanctification (as monergism would imply), a phase or aspect of "salvation." In progressive sanctification - indeed, in the normal case of saving faith, a point to which I will return below - we use our own abilities in cooperation with God, having been predestined or determined by Him to use those abilities. 

I am aware of others who admire Clark yet disagreed with him about this. While I think it was a bad idea (for more than one reason), John Robbins, for instance, inserted a rare, editorial rebuke of Clark in the 1987 TrinityFoundation reprint of Predestination, writing:

From here to the end of the paragraph Dr. Clark errs in two ways. First, the Bible emphatically teaches salvation by faith alone: “Your faith has saved you; go in peace” (Luke 7:50). “Those by the way side are they that hear; then comes the devil, and takes away the Word out of their hearts, lest they should believe and be saved” (Luke 8:12). “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). “And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved” (Acts 2:21). “Who will tell you words, by which you and all your house shall be saved” (Acts 11:14). “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved” (Acts 16:31). “That if you shall confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and shall believe in your heart that God has raised him from the dead, you shall be saved” (Romans 10:9). “By which also you are saved, if you keep in memory what I preached unto you, unless you have believed in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:2). “For by grace are you saved, through faith” (Ephesians 2:8). “…it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe” (1 Corinthians 1:21). “…them that perish; because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved” (2 Thessalonians 2:10). “God has from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth” (2 Thessalonians 2:13). “But we are not of them who draw back unto perdition; but of them that believe to the saving of the soul” (Hebrews 10:39).

We see in these verses that justification is not an aspect of salvation on a par with other aspects, but is so identified with salvation that the terms are interchanged repeatedly. To be justified – to be declared righteous because of the imputation of Christ’s perfect righteousness – is to be saved. All else – sanctification, good works, glorification – flow from that.

Second, Dr. Clark errs when he says that sanctification “consists of works which we do” and “of external actions initiated by internal volitions” and that “we do the things that produce sanctification.” All these statements are in error. Sanctification is the work of the Holy Spirit; it is not something we do, nor is it the result of something we do. Question 75 of the Larger Catechism asks, “What is sanctification?” and answers: “Sanctification is a work of God’s grace….” In the Westminster Confession of Faith, the chapter on Sanctification is separate from and precedes the chapter on Good Works. To show that sanctification is the work of the Holy Spirit, not of ourselves, it cites such verses as 1 Corinthians 6:10: “…but you are washed, you are sanctified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God.” John 17:17: “Sanctify them through your truth: Your Word is truth.” Ephesians 5:26: “That he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the Word.” 1 Thessalonians 5:23: “And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly….” Good works neither are sanctification nor do they produce sanctification. Good works are an effect, a result of sanctification by the Spirit.

Dr. Clark knew all this, for in his book Sanctification, he wrote, “Chapter 13 of the Westminster Confession emphasizes the fact that we are sanctified by God, not by our own efforts; an imperfect obedience to the moral law is a result of that sanctification, not the cause of it.” He concludes his book with the words of Christ from John 17: “Sanctify them by your truth. Your Word is truth.” (John Robbins, Predestination, footnote 9 in the chapter on Free Will)

What can be said in reply to Robbins? Personally, I consider the aforementioned citations of Clark sufficient to show what Clark actually believed, why, and why his beliefs are well founded. But a few further comments can be made. To the first of Robbins' criticisms, there can be no question what Clark's view about the meaning of "salvation." As already has been alluded to above and will be highlighted again, Clark believed "salvation" could, depending on a context, refer to related but distinct events or to the broad encompassment of all of these events:

Furthermore, although there is no space here to argue it, justification inevitably issues in sanctification. True grace and true faith never fail in this life to produce good works. Nothing in this article is to be thought to contradict the necessity of preparing for a future life on a new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness. Salvation has several elements, including regeneration, justification, sanctification, glorification. But they are different elements. (1973. Concerning Justification. Christianity Today Mar. 16, link) 

In light of all of this, I can easily conceive of how someone might mistakenly (or deceptively) believe how what I have put in bold in the following quotations could suggest Clark believed that "salvation" is monergistic (ignore the italics for now, to which I will return below): 

It is sad that some Christians – perhaps some even in our own church, do not enthusiastically receive the doctrine of election, for if God did not take the initiative, it is certain that the sinful heart of man never would.

There is a story of an elderly gentleman, a faithful Christian for many long years, who once testified, “I am saved because God and I cooperated; I did my part, and God did His.” The people were astonished at this testimony, as he expected them to be; and after waiting a moment to let the people wonder what he might have contributed to his salvation, he continued, “I resisted, and God did the rest.”

Peter knew that God had taken and had kept the initiative in his case. He was not offended at the notion of election, for he saw in it the source of all his blessings. Therefore he could write to us with joy that “ye are a chosen generation . . . that ye should show forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” We also should rejoice in God’s electing grace. (1947. Elect Unto Obedience, A Sermon Prepared at the General Conference of Quarryville. The Witness Jul: 3-4.)

The Arminian system holds (1) that God elects persons to eternal life on the condition of their reception of grace and their perseverance as foreseen; (2) that Christ died, not as the substitute for certain men, definitely to assume their penalty, but to render a chance of salvation indifferently possible to all men; (3) that all men have the same influence of the Holy Ghost operating on them, so that some are saved because they cooperate, and others are lost because they resist, thus in effect making salvation depend on the will of man; and (4) that since salvation is not made certain by God's decree nor by Christ's sacrifice, and since man's will is free or independent of God's control, a regenerate man can unregenerate himself and ultimately be lost.

In contrast the Calvinist, the Confession, and the Bible teach (1) that election is unconditional and that sovereign grace is irresistible; (2) that Christ offers us a difference, you know; (3) that human cooperation is not the cause of regeneration, which depends on God and not on the will of man; and (4) that the new birth begins an eternal life, i.e. a life that does not end in a year or two. (1955. Assurance. The Southern Presbyterian Journal, Jan. 19)

In contrast with the pope’s claim to be the vicar of Christ, in contrast also with the practice of praying to the Virgin and to saints, the Scriptures place no barrier between man and God. The apostle Paul in 1 Tim. 2:5 says, “There is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.” Sinful man indeed needs a mediator in order to approach God, but that mediator is the God-Man, Jesus Christ. Any reliance on priests, saints, the Virgin, or the pope constitutes a rejection of Christ. Christ is sufficient for our salvation; he does not need to be helped out. (link)

A hasty glance would perhaps lead one to mistakenly infer that Clark is, at times, inconsistent. For these citations do initially seem to suggest that unlike, say, Arminians or Roman Catholics, a Calvinist should not think that we "cooperate" or "help out" in "salvation." But when we look at the bold quotations in context - specifically, the italicized statements - one should begin to understand that what Clark is actually saying is that man does not cooperate or help out in certain soteric or salvific events. 

The context of the first citation discusses election. The context of the second citation discusses regeneration. The context of the third citation discusses mediation. Strictly speaking, in each of these aspects of salvation, I certainly agree with Clark that there is no synergism. But such does not deny a proper understanding of synergism in other "elements" of salvation or in "salvation" broadly considered as an overarching concept that includes some synergistic elements (like sanctification).

Returning to Robbins' first argument against Clark, then, he strangely cites 2 Thessalonians 2:13 as support for his position (which is contrary to Clark's) that "salvation" and "justification" are interchangeable and equivalent. But read the verse and try to substitute "justification" for "salvation." Would Robbins say that Paul meant, "God has from the beginning chosen you to [justification] through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth"? Does Robbins think justification comes through progressive sanctification? On the contrary, Clark's own commentary on 2 Thessalonians 2:13-14 aims to show that Robbins is wrong to equate "salvation" with only one event:

Since God is omniscient, which a pastor of the Moody Church in Chicago discreetly but in consistency denied some fifty years ago, since, therefore, all his plans form an inviolable system, his choice has several determinate results. Here Paul mentions two: first, salvation in the form of sanctification; and second, belief in the truth. Common parlance among evangelistically-minded witnesses is usually confused. In witnessing, when one asks a prospect, “Are you saved?” he really means, “Have you been regenerated?” But regeneration is only a part, the initial part, of salvation. Then salvation continues in the form of sanctification; and finally, there is glorification, which comes at death and is to be completed at our resurrection. Here Paul has confined his thought to sanctification and its immediate cause, belief in the truth. (Commentaries on Paul's Epistles, pgs. 319-320)

Perhaps Robbins would object to this as well and argue that in this context, sanctification refers to regeneration. 

Even so, on Robbins' own position, justification and [progressive] sanctification depend on faith, something we do indeed "do" (Acts 16:30-31). God alone indeed declares a man righteous in Christ - and in this sense, justification can be viewed as monergistic. But because justification in turn depends on saving faith, and because saving faith is something we "do," God's monergistic declaration depends on a synergistic cooperation. Of course, having faith is something we can "do" solely by God's grace, but this is besides the point. 

Or to put things another way, we are, as Robbins says, sanctified by the truth, but not by a passive experience of truth. A reprobate can hear truth without it sanctifying him. 2 Thessalonians 2:13 shows that it is our belief in the truth through which we are saved, and actual belief is a volitional activity or act of will, as Clark argued (link). Thus, the point is that even on Robbins' view, a proper understanding of synergistic cooperation is involved in our "salvation" (link). 

Incidentally, I think this admission enables admirers of Clark to revisit his view of the nature of saving faith. Once it is admitted that all sides agree saving faith is an obedience to the gospel - not that it is itself our merit or ground for justification (link) - there is less worry about what additional element (e.g. "trust" or "dependence") saving faith might include besides understanding and assent, so long as said element is also not taken to be merit or ground for justification. But I have attempted this elsewhere (link, link) and will look to reexamine such things in my final review of Mr. Lazar's book.

Finally, then, what of Robbins' last point about what Clark wrote on the last page in his book Sanctification? The following could be read as contradicting what I have noted Clark has said elsewhere about progressive sanctification: 

Dr. Clark knew all this, for in his book Sanctification, he wrote, "Chapter 13 of the Westminster Confession emphasizes the fact that we are sanctified by God, not by our own efforts; an imperfect obedience to the moral law is a result of that sanctification, not the cause of it." (Sanctification, pg. 100)

What is slightly deceptive about this quote is that Robbins does not include Clark's next sentence which rounds out an entire paragraph: "Sanctification begins with regeneration." Robbins really ought to have included this line for transparency, for with this context, I think what Clark says above is easily harmonized with the many statements already cited. For I don't consider Clark to be talking about progressive sanctification at all.

Reread Clark's statement Robbins cites with the context of regeneration in mind: "we are all sanctified" (read: a salvific completed event in the past = "regenerated") "by God, not by our own efforts." Regeneration is, as was already mentioned, monergistic. Further, any "imperfect obedience to the moral law is a result of that sanctification" (read: regeneration), "not the cause of it." We don't obey to become regenerate, we become regenerate by which we can and will then obey. In other words, I would argue that in what Robbins cites, Clark is speaking about regeneration, not progressive sanctification.

If anyone does not find this interpretation of Clark's final page in Sanctification convincing, the coup de grace is that Sanctification was not originally written as a standalone book. Clark initially intended it to be chapter 8 in a systematic theology of sorts (link). 

Why is this important? Because in chapter 7 (appropriately entitled Salvation!) of that same systematic theology to which we now have access - and perhaps Robbins did not at the time when he published Sanctification (1992) - Clark makes statements that support the same, consistent interpretation of him that I have already provided above. In the first section of chapter 7, Clark confirms his position (against Robbins) about the meaning of "salvation":

The title Salvation is doubtless too broad as an accurate indication of this chapter's contents. But it is not so narrow as one of its common uses. Some untutored people use the term as a synonym for regeneration. They speak of someone or themselves as being "saved" at a certain time, without having in mind any notion of justification or sanctification. Salvation, however, includes these. It is regeneration plus all the spiritual blessings that succeed upon it. For this reason salvation is incomplete without resurrection and glorification in heaven.

Nevertheless, eschatology with the promise of resurrection, the return of Christ, glorification, heaven, and the penalty of hell too, is such an extensive topic, that though all of it is a part of salvation, it will be reserved for the final chapter. The main topics here are Regeneration, Faith, Justification, and Sanctification. This is already too much for one chapter, and to alleviate the length there will be a division into parts... 

That Clark believed salvation includes justification, sanctification, et al. should be obvious by now. But note what Clark means by the last paragraph. Remembering that this is chapter 7 of a larger systematic theology, and taking note of what is outlined in the table of contents for this systematic theology, Clark is saying that in the rest of this chapter on Salvation, he will discuss regeneration, saving faith, and justification. He will reserve comment on sanctification and eschatology for following chapters, because it would be too much material to include in this chapter. 

Thus, Sanctification, chapter 8, will follow what else Clark says in this chapter. Anything in chapter 8 - that is to say, any inference that Robbins or anyone else makes from Clark's statements in Sanctification, the book published by the TrinityFoundation in 1992 - really ought to be agree with what Clark writes in chapter 7. But in chapter 7, Clark repeatedly says that [progressive] sanctification involves [a proper understanding of] synergy between God and man: 

At this point, between regeneration and faith, it is appropriate to insert a paragraph or two on the idea of grace. Not that such paragraphs will contain much more than what has already been said, or at least implied, for the material on regeneration is particularly clear on the point that it is God's work, not ours. Of course, after regeneration there comes a process of sanctification, to be considered in the next chapter, in which process there is ample room for our good works. But even so, we depend on grace to accomplish them…

What the Romanists call justification most assuredly depends partly on works; but what they call justification is not what the Bible means by the term. Their use of the term is essentially the equivalent of sanctification. Of course this requires good works…

God is judged, and pronounced just. God is not made just; he is pronounced or acknowledged to be just. The fourth verse, "By the works of the law no flesh shall be justified," supports the same conclusion because the works of the law are essential to sanctification…

Regeneration produces (subjective effects, particularly faith) and sanctification inevitably follows justification. An alleged faith that results in no good works is not saving faith at all. (link)

Clark says that of course sanctification most assuredly depends partly on good works. I can't imagine how he could be more plain or blunt. Can anyone seriously think that Clark wrote the above statements but then, only one chapter later, contradicted himself by actually meaning to suggest that progressive sanctification does not include human effort or obedience... especially given that this would also contradict what he says everywhere else? Or does it not make more sense that Clark was specifically referring to the beginning of sanctification - i.e. regeneration - as he himself mentions in context?

To conclude this post, one might disagree with Clark. I happen to think Clark's position protects against antinomianism, of which I find Mr. Lazar and Robbins in danger of admitting. But an accurate understanding of Clark's view is a precondition for approval or disagreement. That is what I have been concerned to straighten out by this post and hope to have done.

Of What Advantage is Baptism [for Infants]?

Much in every way. Firstly, I think a good way to frame the question is in terms of advantages and privileges, for baptism does not always communicate or indicate grace. No one ought to question that the world aside from Noah's family, Pharaoh's army, or unbelievers at the parousia were or will be fearfully judged, for example. Baptism can point to this eschatological reality as well as to blessed salvation. Likewise, one baptized into the visible body of the covenant community is privileged to be a member of it - properly able to be instructed and disciplined by elders-fathers, as I will return to below - though not without warning should they rebel and fall away (Hebrews 6:4-8, 10:26-31).

Anthropologically, soteriologically, and ecclesiologically, we are (or can be) newly born into households. Only those born into these houses are, properly speaking, discipled and disciplined by the fathers of said houses. Only sons and daughters consistently receive fatherly instruction, training, and correction. The potential blessings should be obvious. But this too means judgment must begin at the house of God - since, a fortiori, it is obvious what judgment befalls those who are not members of the house (1 Peter 4:17-18). Now, we know sons and daughters can rebel against fatherly authority. But such cases, as heartbreaking as they are, does not mean there is no reason for sons and daughters to have been in a position to receive instruction and discipline in the first place. At the very least, it must cause sober reflection upon our own relative births and positions into the various, divinely appointed households. But we must remember that all things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose, not all without exception.

Or, to put the point another way. In addition to the anthropological, ecclesiological, and soteriological households, we can consider the cosmological household of God of which we are all a part, believer and unbeliever alike. Nature has a way of instructing and disciplining men (Romans 1:18-32), because we are all God's offspring (Acts 17:29), His image, in His macrocosmic house of creation (Genesis 1). This too comes with its own advantages and privileges, for life is good.

However, it might be a bit difficult to understand, from a bird-eye view of the reprobate, how he has been divinely favored by the rain and sunshine God sends and makes (Matthew 5:45). That is, should we view such as grace? Gordon Clark thought we could:

One theologian argues that the gospel is both a savor of life unto life and also a savor of death unto death. To the reprobate the preaching of the gospel is no favor because as it increases their knowledge, it increases their responsibility and condemnation. Better if they had never heard the gospel. One can reply, nonetheless, that in some cases the preaching of the gospel may restrain an evil man from some of his evil ways. Since therefore sins are not all equal, and since some are punished with many stripes, but others with few, the preaching of the gospel results in the lessening of the punishment. Thus preaching would be a small favor, a modicum of grace. (link)

I am less sure. We could regard it as an advantage or privilege for anyone who already exists and sins to not be immediately cut off from his sinful life, and to that extent what Clark says above can hold true. It is, likewise, certainly a privilege to have once been enlightened, tasted the heavenly gift, have shared in the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the age to come. Perhaps this restrains one from committing as much evil as he would otherwise have done. Yet it seems to me that the privileges of these new births which even reprobates can experience must be balanced against the strong language of, for example, Mark 14:21 - spoken of one who was a disciple of Christ (how much more advantage or privilege towards a sinner can one conceived?) - and that baptism can be unto fearful judgment. To whom much is given, much is expected (Luke 12:47-48). If one tramples underfoot the advantages and privileges of God, it would be better for that man if he had not been born.

Nevertheless, this bird's eye view is not available to us. We can only speak in regards to what we know, and what we know is that one is advantaged or privileged to hear the gospel, for one can only please God and be at peace with Him through justification by faith, and faith can only come by hearing the gospel. We cannot know, in this lifetime, who will hear and reject the gospel, and it is far beyond our purview to presume upon who will or won't heed its call. Much less are we able to determine whether, even if it is rejected, it may yet be beneficial to the extent that those who hear and reject it sin less and are punished less severely as a result. Similarly, we may consider the case of baptism to be a privilege and advantage, if not necessarily a means of grace, even in the case that it leads to negative judgment.

Suppose instead that our infants are only welcome to church meetings to the extent that other unbelievers are. In the first place, we should probably think harder than we do before inviting open unbelievers to what is supposed to be a family communion with and worship of God rather than an evangelistic outreach. What is the goal? Unbelievers should normally find our worship strange and alien because in it, we draw near to God (precisely where they usually don't want to be).

But is this normally how our infants grow to view our assembling to worship? They may, of course, have questions of the worship service (Exodus 12:24-27), but do they normally shrink back as we draw near to God and He to His church? Are not our children participants in corporate worship? If not, I do not see how church can even be considered a foster home to unbaptized children. Rather, it looks as though these children get (have?) to visit a family not their own once a week without participating in the corporate life of it then and there, much less throughout the rest of the week.

On the other hand, if they are participants, fathers discipline sons. Likewise, 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).

The same could be said regarding instruction. Fathers are to instruct their children (Ephesians 6:4). The elder instructs his sons, the visible flock, in worship. But if infants are never members of the visible church, then they are never instructed by elders. You might instruct your son, but just because his friend is around when you do doesn't mean his friend is a "participant" in that instruction.

Whether or not your son rebels against your discipline and instruction is a separate question. But it is without question he is a legitimate son of yours because of how you behave towards him. Likewise in regards to God towards His elect sons and the elders towards their sons-flocks.

One final question that bears pastoral reflection: if infants are not treated as sons, how will they come to think about the church? Frankly, as a child, I would have felt awkward and out of place in the presence of my friend being instructed or disciplined by his father. I would be viewing an internal family matter as an outsider. To say in the first place that infants cannot be participants in worship - that they are presumed to be outsiders - then, would naturally seem to lead them to doubt, uncertainty, or anguish. Being cognizant of the manner in which we, as the visible church, treat our children from birth as well as how they grow to perceive themselves in virtue of our treatment is easier said than done, especially if some of us actually view them as looking in from the outside of God's visible household.

Divine Impassibility

I was recently asked if I had any thoughts on divine impassibility. I haven't studied the doctrine that much. Here is a quote from Clark on the subject:

Does the Bible indicate that God is subject to sudden, involuntary, non-intellectual upheavals in his usually calm state of mind? Well, hardly. The Westminster Confession, the best summary of the contents of the Bible, says that God is without parts or passions. Parts refers to bodily organs. Bodies have parts, minds do not. But God is also without passions. The word passion, in more modern terminology affection, is wider than the term emotion but includes the latter. A passion or affection is the result of being affected by some external force. A dog is affected by a whipping; a student is affected, sometimes, by the possibility of a good grade. There are modern psychology books written about “the affective consciousness.” But God is not affected by anything. Of, in another translation of the Greek term, God does not “suffer” anything. 

On the contrary, not only the Westminster Confession, but all or nearly all the historic creeds says that God is immutable. He does not change. Emotion, however, is a sudden, involuntary change. To have emotions would be inconsistent with God’s eternal state of blessedness. 

Now, someone may say that God loves and that love is an emotion. But with respect to love, two points must be made. First, God’s love is eternal, therefore not a sudden change, therefore not an emotion. Second, God commands us to love him. A command requires voluntary obedience. Therefore the love God commands is volitional, not emotional. Doubtless God commands the impossible. He commands us to keep his law perfectly. This we cannot do because of sin. The impossibility arises from us; it does not arise from any irrationality in the commands. God commands the impossible, but he does not command the absurd. (Gordon Clark, Today's Evangelism: Counterfeit or Genuine?)

A few scattered thoughts:

1. Given that emotions are involuntary, I don't think emotions can be intrinsically sinful, although their presence in a particular context could serve as an indication of sin. Jesus was sinless yet, at times, angry, happy, and sad. If we suppose someone else was happy when Jesus would have been angry (with money changers) or sad (at Lazarus' death), or if we suppose someone else was angry or sad when Jesus was happy, then it would seem emotions are a kind of contextually indicative reflection of one's current state of sanctification. Either way, any argument for the impassibility of God couldn't proceed along these lines.

2. If a "passion or affection is the result of being affected by some external force," then God could not be necessarily be affected by anything external to the Trinity, for there is nothing external to the Trinity which was not created. So if divine passibility could be true, it would have to be a contingent property like divine creator-ship.

[I am assuming here that the relationships among the members of the Trinity are necessary, eternal, and, thus, not of the sort intended to be included by a doctrine of divine impassibility. The Father, Son, and Spirit are distinct, eternal generation and spiration are true, and so some might be tempted to say that the members of the Trinity "affect" one another, for example - whether in respect of person or merely personhood is a matter of dispute between eastern and western Trinitarian models - but I would assume that necessary condition for passibility is change, which obviously does not take place given that the Trinity and their relationships are eternal, at least apart from consideration of a contingent creation (i.e. the ontological vs. economic Trinity)].

3. I believe creation is contingent so as to avoid, roughly, the consequence that the Trinity depends on creation in the same sense the Father depends on the Son. However, I think that most proponents of divine impassibility do not think that the fact that we can affirm contingent truths about God like "God is our creator," "God is our savior," etc. would count as a mark against divine impassibility - they may not even count as a mark against divine immutability. At the very least, those contingencies are true in virtue of God's own initiative.

Furthermore, as a Calvinist, I believe God determines all things. God initiates and determines changes, so only in a proximate sense could I say that something external to God has affected Him (not that I would say that). It may affect Him, but only insofar as God had taken the initiative in determining to create something external to Him for that express purpose. So one question is whether God created with a purpose, in part, that His creation would affect Him - change Him, in some way. It may be that God did not create with this intention and so did not determine that creation would affect Him - obviously, this would be in favor of divine impassibility.

But suppose He did create and determine all things with that intention. Another question is, given that any alleged affectation would ultimately derive from God's own initiative and determination, whether that alleged affectation can really by ascribed to something external to God, or if it is really God who is changing Himself. The latter might be the more accurate expression of the state of affairs. This could constitute an argument for divine impassibility, but it would be controversial.

Suppose I intend and determine to hit myself with a hammer and that nothing could stop me from doing so. Was the hammer instrumental to the change in pain I feel? Yes. But the hammer can has no instrumentality apart from my will. So was it the hammer that really affected me, or was it my will, or was it both? If the first or last option, that cuts against divine impassibility. If the second, that works in its favor. An answer to this could depend on the semantics and technical nuances of a particular expression of divine impassability. I'm not sure.

Of course, this all assumes the speculative point about whether God intended that creation would lead to some kind of internal change or affectation in the first place. But to my mind, the Incarnation seems to correspond to the hammer illustration: who and what I am allows me to be able to assume a hammer in my hand by which I can hurt myself. Indeed, the Incarnation is even stronger than this analogy, for whereas I cannot in fact create a hammer, the assumption of a hammer is not an assumption of a nature or capacities, and other things can prevent me from hurting myself with it, the Son in fact initiated and infallibly determined His own Incarnation and assumption of a nature or capacities precisely so as to be hurt through the crucifixion. So the questions about whether I am being really affected by the hammer, if I am affecting myself, or both would have analogous correspondents to the situation of the Incarnation.

4. Direct arguments for divine impassibility could be made from other alleged divine attributes. Divine simplicity would entail divine impassibility. Given that there would be no real distinction between impassibility and simplicity, then it is trivially true that any argument for divine simplicity would be an argument for divine impassibility. I have numerous reasons for disagreeing with divine simplicity, however, so to the extent that I agree with divine impassibility, I wouldn't look here.

Another direct argument for divine impassibility is to argue for divine immutability. Divine impassibility may not require divine immutability per point 3 above, but if God doesn't change, then obviously nothing external to Him could be said to change Him. Ultimately, what grounds our belief in something about God ought to be divine revelation, but our support can be either explicit or implicit. I'm sure others are more aware of relevant biblical passages than I am.

Currently, I am sympathetic towards divine immutability and, to that extent, sympathetic towards divine impassibility as well. I am undecided, however. Obviously, an adherent of divine immutability must consider the relevancy of the Incarnation. Unless I were to encounter incontrovertible, unambiguous biblical support for a specific theory and expression of immutability or impassibility - I may have done so and just don't remember, or I may have and just think (correctly or not) that those texts are prima facie consistent with varying positions - I would need to develop my views on the Incarnation and a theory of time before I could answer decisively.

Counterfactuals and Imaginable Worlds

So far as I’m aware, how imaginative one is can only be gauged relatively and is an inexact science. I can’t think of a standard by which to measure one’s imagination. For example, while half our thoughts may be good and half may be bad, what would it mean for half our thoughts to be [un]imaginative? But if there were a standard, then given that God has ultimately determined everyone’s imagination, clearly He, the Creator of all things, would be it. He is the most imaginative person there is: He knows what is possible for us to think and imagine because He has determined our thoughts and imaginations.

Sometimes, requiring the exercise of our imagination can get across a truth more poignantly than does the usual literal statement of it. Consider parables. Are these stories “based on a series true events”? Have they literally occurred in the actual world? Well, these sorts of questions really miss the point of a parable. The point is not for those who hear it to woodenly understand random literal events. Rather, by imagining the narrated scenario, each parable is able to communicate a spiritual truth or truths for which the story primarily functions as a metaphor. Even if the parables are fictitious, they can still tell us something we can and should use as motivation for obeying God’s word. That’s what important.

Is it far-fetched to suppose that God could relate to us truths by counter-factual conditionals which, in fact, could not have occurred? I don’t think so. Further, if I want to lead a person or persons to make certain choices, hyperbole can be an effective stimulant to action. It engages the imagination and occasions proper motivation. The upshot of this is would be that as a necessitarian, I would not necessarily have to account for multiple possible worlds. So perhaps I’m biased. In any case, a critical reader will point out that it is possible parables could [have] occur[red].

But it is fairly routinely argued that passages which warn churches of apostasy are purely hypothetical: final apostasy can’t actually occur in sincere believers. Of course, the unfortunate fact is that churches are often not composed of believers alone; nevertheless, warnings can have a significant impact on actual believers too, reminding them to make their calling and election sure. We can imagine what would be the case if we were to fall away even though we can’t fall away. How? Because we know there are two categories of sinners – believers and unbelievers – and we know what actually will accordingly happen to both. 

By abstraction, we can imagine a character in a novel plucked from one story and implanted in another as well as what would occur on that basis. And as novelists, we can even invest our own created characters with such imaginations, with acute “self-awareness” of themselves in the context of their status as a character. But in a significant sense, we too are characters – in a divine drama.

Necessitarianism

This is the first time in a long time I don’t feel as though I have writer’s block. I have had no shortage of topics on my mind, and as if I didn't have enough to blog about, Drake Shelton has written a response to an excursion I wrote on what Gordon Clark called necessitarianism, which he accepted by the time he wrote The Trinity after having previously rejected it. Even as Trinitarianism has become clearer to me in the past several months – thanks in part to Drake – this remains one fundamental issue on which I have been unable to agree with him. This is what I wrote that Drake is responding to in his post:

Finding Scriptures which deal with this issue will require consideration of logical implications, for to my knowledge there is no explicit passage which addresses it. My current response would be that nothing which occurs is unnecessary, for that would imply, as Clarke wishes to avoid, that God’s will is arbitrary. Sure, on the assumption that there are multiple possible worlds, God may have a reason for instantiating some particular possible world, but as on Clarke’s view such a reason would not be necessary, it would still be arbitrary. I may as well ask what God’s reason was for choosing His reason for creating this possible world over against any other reason capable of being chosen which might have led to the instantiation of another possible world, and there could be no answer because the reason itself was chosen arbitrarily. There are, however, several objections to my own position – some made by Clarke and others I have received from those who are in most other respects in agreement with my Trinitarian views – so I will try to address them in a short amount of space.

Clarke thinks the idea that something can be willed necessarily is a contradiction in terms. Thus, he, Athanasius, and others dichotomize that which is willed from that which is a “necessity of nature.” But I do not find his reasons for saying so persuasive: he mentions that I might as well say that a man’s heart beats by his will, the sun rises by man’s will, and a balance which turns necessarily turns by its will. These are just examples of what a proof by example fallacy looks like. What Clarke rather ought to have done is define what it means “to will” or “to choose” or “to act.” As a Calvinist, I don’t have any problem with a definition of these terms which excludes the notion of freedom of contrariety – the ability to have willed, chosen, or acted differently than one did. In fact, freedom of contrariety itself presupposes a definition of willing, choosing, and acting. I would define these words in terms of the mind’s volitional selection, determination, or performance.

Where the line is between providing mere synonyms and providing a clear metaphysical definition can be challenging, but in any case, I am in no worse a position than Clarke, who must also define these terms. Until he does, the burden of proof is on him to explain why necessity is mutually exclusive with will. Anyway, I don’t suppose Sean will have any issue with my explanation, as this is entirely consistent with Gordon Clark’s view 1) that God’s existence is necessary yet by His eternal will and choice, and 2) that the generation of the Son is voluntary and necessary like creation (see his chapter on Eternal Generation in The Trinity).

This last remark brings me to the objection from the other side to my position, viz. my thinking creation is necessary as well as the Son and Spirit. Whereas Sean thinks I bring the Son and Spirit down to the level of creation by making the them contingent – a counter which backfires, as [I would hope] Sean would not say the person[al property] of the Son is created even though he holds that the person[al property] of the Son is contingent – the objection here is that I raise the creation to the level of divinity (see here and here for examples).

Now, I admit I have perhaps missed some solution which would resolve the tension between an unnecessary creation and a seemingly arbitrary God, but if so, I have not encountered it. It seems easier for me to explain why a necessary creation is not divine than it is to explain why an unnecessary creation is not arbitrary. As I understand it, the reason there is an objection to the idea that who the Father is determines everything He wills is that such means the Son, Spirit and creation all originate from the Father in the same way. I suspect the argument is that since “like causes like,” one whose nature is divine must, if He acts according to a “necessity of nature,” cause another with a divine nature.

But I do not see why this needs to be the case. The nature or person of the Father may determine His causation of this possible world as well as the Son and Spirit, but I assert that creation is not consubstantial with the Father because the Father did not [and, therefore, could not on my view have willed to] communicate His nature to creation. Thinking about this question recently, I found myself asking: is divine nature communicated to the Son and Spirit because they are eternally begotten and spirated, or are the Son and Spirit said to be eternally begotten and spirated because the divine nature is communicated to them? If the latter is possible, then is this not a reasonable answer as to why the necessity of creation would not imply consubstantiality with its Creator?

Drake responds:

We have already discussed this. Your use of “unnecessary” is ambiguous. You could mean a necessity of God’s nature or of a necessity extending from the eternality of his will. (link). I think you are still stuck in the dialectic between a necessity of nature and an arbitrarity.

That is, he wants to know, when I speak of “multiple possible worlds” or of the “necessity” of creation, whether I am speaking with reference to what is possible and necessary to God according to His nature or possible and necessary to God according to His will. On Drake's view, that which is necessary according to God’s nature is also necessary according to His will. But that which God wills is not necessarily necessary according to His nature, though there may be some other meaning according to which it may be called necessary, a point I will turn to momentarily. To answer, though, I was questioning whether there are other possible worlds that God could have instantiated according to His nature or if this actual world is the only possible world and, thus, necessary for Him to will as well.

Now, in our last discussion, Drake agreed that “what God wills must be agreeable to His nature.” But, as I just mentioned, he also said he doesn’t think that God’s nature determines everything He wills. His nature prescribes the boundaries of what can be willed in all cases, but it does not determine what must be willed in all cases. In that case, the argument I outline in the above paragraphs is little different than what it was then:

The divine will is atemporal. We agree. It’s logically contingent on the divine nature. We agree. The only problem, as I see it, is that on your position, no answer can be given as to why the divine will instantiated this “world” (or reality) over against another “world” which would have similarly been agreeable to the divine nature. There must be some other “world” agreeable to the divine nature on your view, or else this world would have been necessary, a point to which you strenuously object. I believe last time we established that another such “world” would have been one in which God didn’t create. That would be, you said, consistent with the divine nature. Then again, I pointed out it would be mutually exclusive with this “world” because only in the latter is it true that “God created.”

Now, you can say the divine will was eternal or atemporal, but I don’t think that isn’t relevant because you’ve already agreed that it’s nevertheless logically contingent on the divine nature, a divine nature which, since it doesn’t “direct and regulate” which of the two (or more) “worlds” which are agreeable to it are to be instantiated by the logically contingent divine will, there can never be any answer as to why the divine will instantiated this “world” over against the other which would have similarly been agreeable to the divine nature. This is why the instantiation of this “world” must have been arbitrary relative to any other “world” which would have been agreeable to the divine nature. This is why I say that on your view, the divine will is arbitrary. Anything you could adduce as a reason for God’s instantiation of this “world” (e.g. “for His glory”) could without exception have been adduced as a reason for the other.

Drake replied that “The will is eternal which makes the question meaningless.” I strongly disagree. My argument is effective as long as God’s will is logically contingent on His nature. This is exactly what Drake admits when he says that “what God wills must be agreeable to His nature.” True, there is no chronological or temporal lapse between that which is possible for God to effect by His nature and that which He eternally chooses to effect; there is, however, a logical priority. Because there is such a priority, the question is begged as to why, if God could have instantiated some other world or reality agreeable to His nature, He rather willed to instantiate this one. What was His reason? Drake replies:

The word “reason” can be replaced by the word “basis” and as we have discussed many times there are two of those in God: nature and will. So yes you could ask what was the basis of his eternal will, and I would respond, the agreeability of his nature.

I am afraid the point has been missed. If I ask what the basis or reason is that, given that world A (in which God creates) and world B (in which God never creates) are both agreeable to His nature, God chose to instantiate world A rather than world B, the answer “it was agreeable to His nature” doesn’t suffice. For world B would also have been agreeable to His nature. The arbitrarity objection stands.

Drake does mention that there are two “reasons” or “bases” in God, but He doesn’t elaborate as to what that means. What does it mean for God to have a reason according to His nature, how is it distinguished from His having a reason according to His will, and in what way does his answers to these questions solve the problem of seeming arbitrariness (i.e. God’s choosing of world A which is no more or less agreeable to His nature than world B would have been)? Drake continues:

You think that necessities are only necessities of nature. I have affirmed that a necessity can also extend from the eternality of God’s will and thus openly deny that creation is arbitrary, thus denying any other possible world, while also denying that it is a necessity of divine nature.

Firstly, I have to wonder what was the point of the previous questions designed to determine whether I was speaking of necessity “according to nature” or necessity “according to will” when it is apparent he already knew I was speaking about the former.

More importantly, how is the will of God necessary if it is not necessitated by His nature? It would seem more precise to say that the will of God necessitates, not that it is itself necessarily necessitated. This is very important, because my objection pertains to the latter, not the former. God’s will may be some times be necessitated – such as in the communication of divinity to the Son and Spirit – but it is not always necessitated.  But my argument is that the fact that the will is not always necessitated is why it is sometimes arbitrary. The fact that it necessitates whatsoever is willed is irrelevant.

As a side point of clarification, the points regarding man’s heartbeat, the sunrise, and the turn of a balance were related to Samuel Clarke’s argument that what is necessary is mutually exclusive with what is willed. I had quoted his argument earlier in my article, which was why I mentioned it then. Drake does not believe the two are mutually exclusive, so there is no reason to further pursue this particular line of dialogue.

So much for the responses to my criticisms. Now Drake offers a few criticisms of his own. Firstly, he thinks that my assertion that there are not multiple possible worlds agreeable to God’s nature implies “a conflation of activity, essence and existence. This is ADS.” But this is not an argument. The Father possesses distinct attributes whether or not creation is necessary according to His nature, and these divine attributes, while they determine His activity, are distinct from it. A definition of “existence” will need to be provided before I can reply further.

In response to my question, “is divine nature communicated to the Son and Spirit because they are eternally begotten and spirated, or are the Son and Spirit said to be eternally begotten and spirated because the divine nature is communicated to them?” Drake replies:

The former. The emanation is the basis of the communication, in the genus of relation. The latter makes the emanation arbitrary and ad hoc. WE may have here encountered the Hegelian Dialectic. In order to avoid an arbitrary God, you are forced to have an arbitrary God.

I don't particularly like the language of emanation, though I understand what he means: it is the genus of which spiration and begetting are species. Regardless, why does Drake think that “the Son and Spirit [are] said to be eternally begotten and spirated because the divine nature is communicated to them” suggests arbitrarity? I stated the existences of the Son and Spirit are necessary in any case, so if everything God wills is to maximize the manifestation of His glory, and the Father has communicated divinity (and individuating properties) to two other subjects, the logical conclusion is that this communication is willed for His glory, which is clearly not ad hoc. There are too many unexplained gaps for me to be expected to follow these arguments.

His last argument, stated here, explains why he thinks that it is necessary to maintain that creation is not necessary according to God’s nature, and this, unless I am mistaken, is supposed to show why that which is derived by a necessity of nature is that to which the divine nature is communicated. Essentially, the argument is that if creation is necessary according to God’s nature, such makes God’s nature dependent on creation, which is pagan.

But dependent in what sense? In my article on Clarke, Drake made the point – with which I agree – that the property of Fatherhood logically depends on the Son. The Father cannot be the Father unless there is a Son, which is no problem since the Son has always existed. But this isn’t pagan, is it? The Son metaphysically depends on the Father, yet the Father too in some sense depends on the Son. If no deficiency in the Father is implied in this case, then I do not see why, by way of analogy, it may not be said that creation is necessary according to God’s nature so long as it is clarified that any implied dependency doesn’t suggest deficiency. Indeed, creation is from God precisely because God had a reason to create. That this reason is necessary according to His nature rather anticipates any objection that this reason is externally imposed on God. Deficiency is precluded rather than established. God is sufficiently able to effect that which He most strongly desires; the fact that He must do so according to His nature is not because of what creation is but because of who He is. The creation clearly metaphysically depends on the Creator, but it must also be kept in mind that it is the nature of God that determines the nature of creation, not the other way around.

It is rather like epistemology: in epistemology, there are axioms and theorems. In short, axioms are the set of propositions purported to be sufficient in order for knowledge to be possible. They are preconditions for knowledge. Theorems are what can be deduced by means of the axioms. Now, even though our knowledge-claims regarding theorems depends on our being able to deduce them from a source – axioms – the knowledge of the axioms will in some sense depend on the system of theorems they yield. For axioms can be falsified if two theorems they produce are contradictories.

So on the one hand, just as a theorem cannot be known if it is not deducible from some given set of axioms, creation cannot exist if it is not the product of the Creator. The theorems (creation) are determined by the nature of the axioms (God). On the other hand, just as one can use theorems as one means by which to evidence that a set of axioms is not unsound, creation is one means by which to evidence that God is divine. Neither of these are sufficient conditions, but both are necessary conditions. But I will not push the analogy too far.

Finally, none of this implies that the divine nature is communicated to creation if it is necessary according to God’s nature. That only follows if it cannot be the case that “the Son and Spirit said to be eternally begotten and spirated because the divine nature is communicated to them.” I don’t see that this possibility has been refuted.

UPDATE: Drake and I are continuing this discussion here.

Helm on Divine Freedom

Every so often, I come across a book that confirms an idea I arrived at independently, which is probably why I enjoyed Helm’s chapter on Divine Freedom in his Eternal God as much as I did. When I wrote this post several months ago, I wasn’t aware that Helm had written such strikingly similar arguments. Since he answers a few objections to the idea God’s choice to instantiate this world was necessary which, at the time, I had not considered, I thought I would post them. But firstly, here is how he frames the discussion:

Granted that no one or nothing could coerce such a choice, and that all such choices would be the product of God’s supremely excellent nature, is an eternal God free to choose between or among alternative possible outcomes? And if he is not free to choose between such outcomes does this matter? …does it make sense to suppose that there are alternative equally optimific (or equally reasonable in some other way) outcomes between which God may choose? If not, does this matter? (pg. 172)

Why are these questions important? Well, how one answers them will indicate what position he would hold on divine timelessness, determinism, omniscience, and, by extension, broader topics like epistemology and soteriology. Throughout his chapter, Helm chiefly relies on the first reason I provided in my post for believing that God’s instantiation of this world was necessary (or as Helm will put it, that God “had to” choose what He did); viz. that any reason for God’s choosing to instantiate a possible world implies it:

If God is supremely good then he could only choose those possible outcomes, instantiate those possible worlds, which are consistent with his having this character, since to act inconsistently is a defect which God could not have. And since God is supremely good it must be supposed that God chooses from all possible worlds that world which is the best, the best of all possible worlds, since to suppose that he might choose a world which was less than the best is to suppose that he might do something which was inconsistent with his supremely good nature. (pg. 172)

So God’s choice of the universe may be contingent in the sense that there are coherent alternative universes which God is powerful enough to have instantiated had he possessed an adequate reason to do so. This argument does not depend on the idea of God choosing between equally optimific outcomes, which would appear to make God’s instantiation of any universe an act of pure reasonless will. Rather the argument is that God’s freedom consists in the rationality of his choice, in his having a good reason for what he instantiates, not in his having no reason. (pg. 178)

Elsewhere, Helm states God can also be said to be free “because he acts in accordance with his supremely excellent nature without coercion or hindrance” (pg. 174). On the same page, he knocks down the following argument:

…the further objection that in choosing God is somehow constricted or constrained in his freedom is a curious one. There seems to be a species of metaphysical delusion at work in the advancing of such an objection. For the objection supposes that it would be some sort of disability to have a supremely wise and good nature and to ‘have to’ act in accordance with it. How much finer and freer, the objection implies, to have a nature which would allow the choosing of what is vile and wretched!

With all this said, I would like to make one clarification to something Helm says about the implications of multiple “optimific” worlds:

If we suppose that [God’s actualizing one of a number of co-optimific goals] makes sense, on what grounds could God decide in favour of one rather than another? Clearly, not by reference to their character. There seem to be two alternatives; either he chooses on the basis of some accidental feature of one alternative lacked by all the others, a feature not related to optimificity, or he chooses as a result of pure whimsy. Neither of these alternatives is very appealing. (pg. 180)

While it is to Helm’s credit that he finds neither appealing, I would and have argued they are not really alternatives at all; in both cases God would choose “as a result of pure whimsy.” What I mean is that if the “accidental feature” according to which God chose to instantiate this world is appealed to as a reason for God’s choice, then the feature turns out to be not so accidental after all. It’s essential, as, in fact, it would set this world apart as that so-called possible world which is most optimific. But in this case, we are back to the supposition that there is only one optimific world, a world which God “had to” instantiate. On the other hand, if the “accidental feature” does not function as a reason for God’s choice – that is, if it wasn’t necessary for God to have chosen this world for the reason that said feature was exclusive to it – then actually, this is no different than the position that God’s choice was arbitrary.

Helm summarizes the chapter thus far very well when he writes:

So far I have defended the contingency of the universe on the grounds that it is the outcome of God’s reasonable choice, against the view of Aquinas, recently endorsed by Stump and Kretzmann, that contingency results from choice among equally optimific outcomes.

But did not God have to choose reasonably? And if he did does this not put paid to his freedom and to the universe’s contingency? In a sense, yes. But the language ofhaving to does not imply constraint in this case. God had to because of who he is and that he did choose is the ultimate explanation of what takes place. Thus to say that God had to is to say that no further explanation of what takes place is possible than that it seemed good to the eternal God that these things should be so. (pg. 181)

Helm notes that this position is not Spinozan, because Spinoza would have said that what exists is “not as the outcome of a divine choice…” (pg. 183), essentially because “Spinoza denies both intelligence and will to God…” (pg. 182). Helm also denies Spinoza’s “metaphysical monism” (cf. pgs. 180, 185-186) and then provides another quick summary of where we stand at this point in the chapter:

The power that creatures have is derived from God, but it is not immediately from God. According to theism I write these words as a result of physical and mental powers given and maintained by God. But this does not imply that it is God who is writing these words…

So far we have maintained that the actual universe is contingent; that God chooses it in accordance with his own nature, and not because it is one of a number of equally optimific alternatives; and that this is a markedly different position from that of Spinoza. (pg. 186)

Now, in the comment section of my post on the necessity of this world, it was argued that such would make creation consubstantial with God. Helm replies:

Certainly the idea of the universe is in the mind of God. But to suppose that the creation is a whole or a part of God would be to suppose that to talk about creation is to talk about God. But this is manifestly unsatisfactory. If Jones disobeys God there are two individuals related. To suppose that in such a situation God really disobeys himself, or that the disobedience is only apparent, would be to maintain something altogether different.

So there is a sense in which a theist (as opposed to a Spinozist) holds that the universe is necessary in only a qualified sense. For according to theism the universe comes about as a result of God’s will, the will of an agent, though an agent who is not, and necessarily not, ever undecided what to do. God is necessarily good, but he is not necessarily good as a result of a decision or an act. The necessary goodness of God is not the result of God’s agency. (pg. 187)

The reply to this objection also affords Helm to finish his chapter with a fine answer to the objection that God is not self-sufficient if he “had to” create as He did:

If God is self-sufficient does he need to create? In one sense, obviously not. If a country is self-sufficient it does not need to import goods. But an individual may be self-sufficient in the sense that nothing else is necessary for that individual’s existence and yet he may wish to act or communicate himself, though not because he has a psychological need or deficiency, or some other defect of existence or character such that he has to communicate or create. To want to do something may be a sign not of weakness by of strength, not of deficiency but of fullness. So that it seems perfectly consistent with the fact that God does not need anything that he nevertheless wishes to have other beings and creates in accordance with these wishes. And it would be a perverse piece of argumentation which attempted to qualify this by saying, ‘Ah, yes, but this means that God needs to wish to create.’ This is rather like the claim that all human actions are selfish. There is a sense, a perfectly trivial sense, in which all human actions are selfish, in the sense that all such action is the action of the self who performs it. But there is a non-trivial sense in which what a person does is selfish because it is at the expense of the legitimate interests of others. In the same way there is a trivial sense in which it might be said, from the very fact that God has created the universe and you and me in it, that God needs you and me. Otherwise why would he have created us? But there is another sense in which he clearly did not need you and me, in the sense in which neither you nor I are necessary for God’s being God. We may be pretty important people but it would be taking things a bit too far to suppose that our non-existence would result in God’s non-existence as well. Although the language may seem rather extravagant to our ears, Jonathan Edwards is expressing a perfectly consistent and intelligible position when he writes that ‘a disposition in God, as an original property of his nature, to an emanation of his own infinite fullness, was what excited him to create the world’. (pgs. 193-194)

Creation is metaphysically contingent on God, not the other way around. Who God is is not derived from but is rather the precondition for creation. That God had to create or that God created necessarily is not to be explained in terms external to God but rather in terms of who God is or, equivalently, that it was according to His good pleasure to create. And that is just natural: Jonathan Edwards also correctly noted that individuals choose what which they most strongly desire or please. That such would apply to God as well as men does not suggest God is not meaningfully free, nor is it not a blurring of the Creator-creature distinction: “It is perfectly consistent with the basic theistic distinction between the creator and the creature to suppose that the actual universe should be the only possible universe” (pg. 188). Just the opposite: it is a stamp of reassurance that while rationally independent, God is personal rather than some Spinozan, abstract principle: “What God actualizes in timeless eternal fashion is not by logic but by his own nature” (pg. 187). In our creaturely capacity, we only know what God reveals to us. Hence, it may be that we cannot understand why no other world was possible. But that doesn’t imply there is no answer or that we cannot learn the answer:

About many of such possibilities regarding the future we are now able to say that for all we know they may come to pass. They represent present epistemic possibilities and logical possibilities. But if we were to know everything, or more than we do, then we would see that these possibilities are only abstract. They do not represent real possibilities and never did. The thought that they did was the product of our ignorance. (pgs. 188-189)

I appreciate Helm’s book as a whole, but this chapter was genius. He makes many other observations in it, in particular by relating each of these points to time[lessness]. But that would go beyond the scope of this post.