When It Is Not Over

A friend of mine pointed out to me that there is a new player in the CREC scene who is definitely sounding like a Federal Vision proponent, and is vocal about it online. This was surprising to me. I thought that all FV proponents had stopped posting because the Reformed world had rejected their theology, and they wanted to go underground. I have never supposed the FV to be dead. Most of the main proponents are still propounding. But, by and large, they are doing so underground.

I had never heard of Paul Liberati before. But as I looked at some of his stuff, it seems clear that he is, at the very least, highly influenced by the FV. A few comments on this post will suffice to illustrate what I see. Important is his definition of regeneration, which, based on Matthew 19:28 and Titus 3:5, points not to an inner change, but to a cosmic one. Now, other FV guys have gone in this direction. But they will usually still tie this definition to a union with Christ that is losable. This is the exact same move that Liberati makes. The ordo salutis definition of regeneration is something Liberati ties to a Calvinistic definition of salvation, while the way he uses the cosmic definition leans in an Arminian direction. A person, in other words, can be united to Christ by baptism (always with the qualifier “in some sense”) and then lose that union. He adds John 15 into this mix, again, a move that many FV guys have made before. On John 15 and its relation to the FV, see this post.

Titus 3:5 should be understood in the following way: regeneration is a washing of the soul. Note the direction of the genitival construction. It does not say “the regeneration of washing,” but rather “the washing of regeneration.” There is no explicit reference to baptism here, though many commentators have said so in the past. I think baptism is in the side view mirror, but is certainly not the main attraction there. Baptism as a physical washing points to the regenerative washing, but does not, in itself, accomplish it.

He writes, “Baptism, then, is never a mere formality—it is a real grafting into Christ. This may or may not be (sic) accompanied faith in the person baptized. The inward and ongoing benefits of that graft depend on conversion of heart and persevering faith.” It is plain here that, for Liberati, baptism regenerates in the second sense (the cosmic sense), not in the ordo salutis sense. So, he does not teach baptismal regeneration in the way that it is usually taught. However, the benefits of salvation, which include a real grafting into Christ, are ascribed to baptism, a clear FV move. The Westminster Standards call baptism a sign and seal of our engrafting into Christ (based primarily, though not exclusively, on Romans 4), not the way in which that engrafting actually occurs.

According to Liberati, the entire ordo salutis definition of regeneration should be rejected because it doesn’t allow us to use the warning passages properly. This has been answered many times by critics of the FV. The difference between the outward administration and the inward essence of the covenant makes clear the slippage that allows us to make perfectly sound use of the warning passages.

It should be noted that the “cosmic” definition of “the regeneration” as noted in Matthew 19 does not require us to jettison the ordo salutis definition of regeneration, contrary to the ethos of Liberati’s post. He seems to be setting these two in tension with each other. Rather, the regeneration of an individual person’s soul is of a piece with “the regeneration,” the renewal of the entire cosmos. Parts of the cosmos are renewed before other parts, but it is all of a piece. Therefore, the use to which he puts the “cosmic” definition of regeneration does not work.

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 11

The antithesis is a key element of Van Til’s apologetics. He gets it from Kuyper. Van Til’s version, again, says that metaphysically, believers and unbelievers have everything in common. Epistemologically, they have nothing in common. My previous criticism of Mathison on this point also pops up here. Mathison extends Van Til’s position beyond where it should go. Mathison claims that Van Til’s antithesis disallows for communication (178-9). But the quotation Mathison uses to support this claim already anticipates this objection in the context. Observe page 38: “It might seem then that there can be no argument between them” (i.e., no communication). Van Til’s answer is that everything in the universe is revelational of God. His response, in other words, is to reiterate the metaphysical commonality. To put it another way, the only way you can get to a place where Van Til’s position on the epistemological antithesis demands a severing of communication between believer and unbeliever is to downplay the metaphysical commonality. But these two principles must be held side by side in order to interpret Van Til properly, each qualifying the other.

The other issue I have also already dealt with in relation to the antithesis. What is the definition of “know truly?” Van Til operates with two main definitions, it seems to me. One is related to the metaphysical reality, one to the epistemological realm. The metaphysical reality definition is one by which unregenerate man can know many things truly. In the epistemological realm, he knows nothing truly. In the former, what is required for true knowledge is simply a correspondence between what is asserted and the reality that is out there. Even here, of course, unregenerate man gets many things twisted and wrong. But in the epistemological realm, unregenerate man gets pretty much everything wrong, except insofar as common grace restrains him. Mathison’s error is in saying that Van Til’s only route for saying unregenerate man can know anything is common grace. This is not true. Van Til has many statements that show unregenerate man can know many things about the metaphysical world in a way that corresponds to that world, and so “true” in a correspondence way. But he (in himself) knows nothing truly in the epistemological realm, because of autonomy. Even if autonomy does not always operate fully (being restrained by common grace), autonomy is still there, lurking and twisting. This is why, despite the qualification of common grace on the antithesis, the presuppositional method is still necessary. Common grace does not erase autonomy, even where common grace operates. It merely prevents autonomy from being as bad as it can get.

I have already given my thoughts on Mathison’s critique of the Trinitarian theology of Van Til, so I direct readers there for my critique of Mathison on these points.

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 10

The first issue in chapter 8 of Mathison’s book (on theological issues in Van Til) has to do with VT’s relationship to historic Reformed theology, generally speaking. Here I might point out that if Van Til was confessional, then he wasn’t “saying that his definition of Reformed theology should be the standard by which all other Reformed theologians (including the theologians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries) should be judged” (p. 173). VT agreed with both the WS and the 3FU. The fact that he disagreed with many Reformed theologians on particular issues related to classical apologetics doesn’t change this. It is only on certain issues. Mathison might be qualifying the statement when he mentions VT’s presuppositional apologetic methodology, but this could be made much more clear. Did VT think he was tweaking the Reformed tradition? He thought that his views were well within confessional boundaries, and he also saw Bavinck and Kuyper, in particular, as his antecedents. Yes, he did think that a more thorough-going Reformed apologetic could be forged, and he attempted to do that. But it is not clear at all that he thought he was dreaming up a completely new methodology.

It is not clear who Mathison has in mind when he says, “Van Til’s statements about the early Reformed theologians forces the Reformed Christian to ask himself or herself why Van Til should be viewed as the standard by which all Reformed theology is defined” (173). There is no qualification or disclaimer of rhetorical exaggeration in the context. Have Van Til’s followers done this? I think the most that could be said is that some of VT’s followers have made him the standard on apologetics. I don’t know of anyone who has made VT the standard by which all Reformed theology is defined. As an aside, in most places in the book, you can see Mathison struggling with might and main to be fair. On a few occasions, such as this one, you can see his frustration show through a bit.

On the possibility of natural theology, Mathison puts the issue in a roughly similar category to the “true knowledge” issue. Van Til rejects the possibility of natural theology as done by unregenerate man, but then acknowledges that fallen man knows God exists. That is, I believe his position is that an unregenerate person will inevitably distort the created realm in his own understanding, thus resulting in a distorted view of the God he knows exists. Let me be clear: to say anything else is surely a denial of the noetic effects of the Fall, is it not? My question, though, is this: is Van Til denying the possibility of natural theology for all people, or only for unregenerate people? On page 123 of A Survey of Christian Epistemology, the very place Mathison references here, Van Til notes that regeneration changes everything. Once a person’s eyes have been corrected, they can see things properly again. This is thoroughly in line with Calvin, who sees the Scriptures as spectacles by which we can have our errant eyesight corrected. Calvin says, “Bright, however, as is the manifestation which God gives both of himself and his immortal kingdom in the mirror of his works, so great is our stupidity, so dull are we in regard to these bright manifestations, that we derive no benefit from them” (Inst. I. 5. 11). This in a long discourse on the power of natural revelation, but our inability to interpret it correctly. Natural theology is only really possible for regenerate humanity. Before the Fall, we would have done just fine interpreting natural theology correctly. Mathison gives the impression that he thinks Van Til believes there is no possibility of doing natural theology under any conditions whatsoever. This is patently not true, even on the very pages Mathison cites.

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 9

Today, I will start with a positive: Mathison is correct that Van Til is not always clear or easy to understand (147 and elsewhere). One has to work to understand him at points. It is work well worth doing. But it can be quite difficult at times. And Mathison is also correct that one of the areas where Van Til is not easy to understand is in the area of epistemology, which is one of the most important areas Van Til addresses. Clarifying definitions is important to understanding Van Til.

For example, how can the unbeliever both know some thing truly and yet not know anything truly? Only if the definition “truly” is different in the two cases. When he knows some things truly, it means that he can know many things about the metaphysical world that he has in common with believers. When he knows nothing truly, it means he is trying to “know” things without acknowledging their relationship to the Triune God. When Van Til says that the unbeliever has to know everything to know anything, he means insofar as he is trying to dethrone God as the knower of everything, and trying to erect himself as autonomous knower instead. The “true” knowledge in this case is in relationship to the Triune God. Common grace often restrains the unbeliever in this pursuit. However, his default is still autonomy. The believer can rest on God’s ultimate knowledge and thus know things truly, albeit in an ectypal, creaturely way (analogous). But this does not negate the true knowledge the unbeliever has in the other sense (that of awareness of the same metaphysical world the believer inhabits).

Mathison’s treatment of idealism in Van Til has much more nuance than other critics’ treatment. Mathison recognizes that Van Til was highly critical of idealism and spent much time responding to erroneous accusations of idealism. Of course, defining idealism is a sticky wicket, as the Brits like to say, and as Mathison notes (149ff). Speaking of the Brits, the British form of idealism had as one of its components the interconnected nature of all knowledge, with no divisions between departments of learning (150). Here I am not sure that Van Til would be completely on board. Interconnected nature of all knowledge? Yes. No divisions between departments of learning? No. Probably VT would agree with the watchwords “distinct yet inseparable” to refer to the various departments of learning. They all inter-relate, but that does not mean all distinctions are eliminated.

The greatest degree of nuance in Mathison’s treatment of this lies in his delineations of the different kinds of influence that are possible (lexical, strategic, propositional, and systemic). And he rejects outright systemic influence of idealism on Van Til (154). Observe Mathison’s careful statement on p. 155: “While Van Til may have appropriated certain elements of idealism that he believed were true, he did not adopt any specific idealist system as a whole.” In other words, Van Til was not an idealist, per se. There is lexical, strategic, and propositional influence of idealism in Van Til, according to Mathison, and there is some support for these among other Van Til scholars.

Unfortunately, in his critique of epistemological holism (161ff), Mathison does not always acknowledge the different uses of the word “true.” On page 161, for example, there does not seem to be any delineation of the different meanings, while on page 162, he acknowledges the possibility. He says that Van Til’s view is either contradictory or equivocal. There is a third possibility. If context can prove that he uses different meanings for the word “true,” then he is not equivocating, but rather switching meanings. Mathison has not ruled this possibility out, it seems to me.

The last issue for this post is Van Til’s supposed rejection of classical realism. The devil is in the details of how one defines realism (and idealism, too, in this context!). If we define realism as the belief that the world out there exists regardless of what I think about it, and idealism as meaning all of existence is in the mind, then Van Til was a realist. If realism has to include the idea that facts are not interpreted, then Van Til would be a hybrid of sorts. It is certainly not as simple as saying that Van Til rejected all aspects of realism just because he says he rejects classical realism.

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 8

Next up is Mathison’s treatment of Exodus 4. He argues that the evidential nature of the miracles God tells Moses to perform undermines presuppositionalism. The problem here is that everything God tells Moses to show the Israelites is still special revelation, which is not limited to Scripture. God did not tell Israel in Exodus 4 “Just look up at the stars and you will know that I am the God I say I am.” Instead, he gives them specific miraculous evidence, much like the miracles Jesus did, in fact. Special revelation is self-attesting. Van Til often simply referred to Scripture in a way that basically said, “Let the Lion roar.” If it is special revelation, then it is part of the presupposition of the Christian that it is true. If we had anything that could prove Scripture to be true, then that thing would be our axiomatic truth, and partake of more solidity than the Bible itself. I am not sure why Mathison thinks Exodus 4 undermines presuppositionalism.

Here I must register a protest against Mathison’s critique of the wholeness of knowledge. God is an indivisible whole, a simple, non-composite being. Therefore his knowledge must partake of the same characteristic. Out of His knowledge, by speaking the Word, the universe came into existence. How, then, can the universe have any discrete facts that are unrelated to anything else? To posit this would ultimately come back to haunt Mathison vis-a-vis the simplicity of God. A discrete fact would require a separate act on God’s part, an act separate from the decree, or a separate decree, would it not? This would, in turn, undermine the simplicity of God’s decree.

In Mathison’s treatment of Acts 17, which is almost four pages, the only writer outside of Van Til that he references is John Calvin. Normally, I shy away from the critiques that run “Well, you should have read this or that,” the reason being that it is impossible to read everything. But in this case, I squawk a bit. For someone who has a commentary recommendation list, and who “determined to read every book, dissertation, article, and chapter on Van Til that I could locate” (12), then I simply ask why Flavien Pardigon’s published dissertation on Acts 17, Paul Against the Idols: A Contextual Reading of the Areopagus Speech (Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications, 2019), which is an exegetical study of the finest order, interacting with all modern scholarship, and propounding a Van Tillian exegesis of Acts 17, didn’t make the cut? Or how about any of the modern commentaries on Acts? There is no reference to Keener, Schnabel, Bock, Peterson, or Bruce (the top five Mathison himself recommends). I could also include Marshall, Fitzmyer, Barrett, Johnson, and a fair number of others. Yes, it might have added a week or so to his research. But for someone who criticized Van Til for his scholarship to do exegetical work this patchy, this seems like an obvious tu quoque. Pardigon functions quite well as a refutation of Mathison’s reading of Acts 17.

Mathison also accuses Van Til of reading his methodology into Scripture. But don’t we all, to a certain extent, see in Scripture what we think we will see, based on our grids? Doesn’t Mathison see anti-Van Tillianism in Scripture where it might not, in fact, be warranted? Isn’t that reading into Scripture something that isn’t there? I have suggested that Ecclesiastes very much dovetails with Van Tillianism, and that the passages used to refute Van Tillianism do not do so.

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 7

The first chapter of Mathison’s critique starts with the question of exegesis. Van Til acknowledged, as many have noted, that he did not do much exegesis in his works to try to establish his apologetical method. Mathison aims to prove that some of VT’s distinctives are not only unsupported by biblical exegesis, but actually contrary to the Bible. I will aim to show that Mathison is mistaken on these points.

Mathison’s first point is that VT’s doctrine of knowledge is contrary to Scripture (123ff). Specifically, that VT’s doctrine is read into Scripture, not read out of it, which causes VT to distort Scripture’s teaching. In order to demonstrate this, Mathison starts with the fact that God communicates with humans (125) and that believing humans communicate with unbelieving humans. Here, I think, is where Mathison’s artificial expansion of VT’s categories gets him into trouble (see part 4). Mathison appears to be saying that VT believes nonbelievers cannot know anything, because they cannot know it truly. As I have attempted to show, however, VT believes that “truly” means “in line with God’s knowledge.” This does not mean unbelievers are ignorant of 2+2=4 or of the meaning of human language, to use the example Mathison tries to use. Mathison seems to be over-emphasizing the epistemological difference between believers and unbelievers in VT while under-estimating the metaphysical all-things-in-common that VT also posits. If it is the same universe we inhabit, then it is the same language, the same math, the same science. The question is this: are the facts isolated, or are they all interconnected with each other with God’s knowledge forming the archetype? Mathison appears to be saying that VT doesn’t believe unbelievers can even communicate. This is a fallacious extension and distortion of what VT believes. I have a hard time believing VT would have a problem saying that believers and unbelievers can meaningfully communicate. Doesn’t the image of God in humanity provide a foundation for this communication? Scripture does not rule out the absolute antithesis at all, as long as this absolute antithesis is not expanded to include more in it than VT did. Common grace restraining unbelief is not necessary to refute Mathison here.

Mathison then goes to the Scriptures that tell us that unbelievers will know certain things about God (128). Mathison thinks VT cannot account for these phenomena of Scripture. Again, Mathison’s examples are in the metaphysical realm wherein believers and unbelievers have all things in common. The metaphysical realm includes things God has revealed through his creation and providence. It is the context of these things about which there is no agreement between believer and unbeliever.

Mathison calls VT’s epistemology “humanistic post-Enlightenment philosophical lenses” (130). Given the similarity between VT and the scholastic distinctions both between archetypal and ectypal knowledge, and between true and false knowledge, I think we can put to rest the idea that VT had “humanistic post-Enlightenment philosophical lenses.” Furthermore, VT’s attention given to epistemological matters is hardly new. Cartesianism in the scholastic era inspired entire books to refute it (especially van Mastricht). This was an epistemological issue, as well. The modern era of post-Kant is not the only one to study epistemology.

Mathison seeks to use Psalm 19 and Romans 1 to refute Van Til as well. But Van Til doesn’t ever reject natural revelation. And just because something is revelationally clear doesn’t mean fallen humanity will see it as clearly as it is revealed. This is the point Mathison misses in his exegesis. Fallen humanity is without excuse because of the clarity of natural revelation (though even that is qualified in Van Til, as Mathison points out, though not so distorted as to grant unbelievers an excuse again). But, fallen humanity has made itself incapable of seeing the true (and by “true” here, I mean “in accordance with God’s knowledge”) meaning of that natural revelation. Fallen humanity will always try to achieve autonomy through his interpretation of the natural world.

Lastly, Mathison asserts that there are no biblical passages whatsoever that support Van Til’s apologetic methodology (134). I beg to differ. The entire book of Ecclesiastes does precisely this. Ecclesiastes is a much-controverted book, of course. However, the author retained his wisdom in pursuing what fallen humanity wants (laughter, pleasure, building, wealth, ch. 2) while retaining his wisdom (2:3). The controverted phrase is “under the sun.” I believe it means “as if God did not exist.” Under this presupposition, everything is hebel. But when one sees the end of the matter (chapter 12), nothing is hebel if God is back in the picture. I will treat of the remaining Scriptural arguments (135ff.) in the next post.

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 6

In the final chapter of the exposition section, Mathison draws back to delineate some implications of VT’s theology for his apologetics. After noting again the central importance of the issue of knowledge to VT, Mathison touches on the subjects of the place of apologetics within the encyclopedia, the problems with traditional apologetics, scholasticism, and the definition of Reformed apologetics.

On the debate between Warfield and Kuyper on the place of apologetics within the encyclopedia of theology (the overall field of theology, not an alphabetical reference work), Mathison points out (quite rightly) that VT sides with Kuyper against Warfield. Warfield puts apologetics solely in a place of prolegomena. Kuyper believes apologetics defends the whole system of theology. Kuyper points out that Warfield’s position entails a practical denial of the noetic effects of the fall (the effects on the human mind). How can dead people reason from nature to nature’s God? Of course, this must be qualified by the image of God fashioned inside all human beings. To my way of thinking, the image of God in humanity means all humans know God exists. And, on the position of apologetics, my own way of thinking is that apologetics, along with the other disciplines, are all intertwined and interdependent.

VT believed that traditional apologetics combined foreign elements of scholasticism, autonomous philosophy, or, in short, syncretism. Mathison is very helpful in pointing out here that VT usually means “syncretistic” when he uses the term “scholastic.” One could wish he had born this more in mind in the places where he critiques Van Til on his treatment of the scholastics.

He also points out, with a more implicit critique that becomes quite explicit later on, that VT held to a version of the “Calvin versus the Calvinists” thesis. There is no need to deny this. VT did hold to such a thesis, and it is erroneous. However, Mathison’s later critique on this point seems to suggest that Van Til should have read Muller before Muller was published. Notice, for example, on pages 197 and following (especially page 198) that ALL of the sources Mathison references that correct the “Calvin versus the Calvinists” school postdate Van Til’s works, most by a lot. There is a difference between holding a position that was widespread and erroneous when the definitive work debunking it had not occurred yet, versus holding such a position after the scholarship debunking it had been published. I have read all of Muller’s Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics. So, for me, it would unpardonable to rail against the scholastics in a way that suggested that scholasticism was a description of content, and not of method, or to posit that the Calvinistic scholastics poisoned the pure and pristine well that Calvin dug. Even the first edition of Muller postdates Van Til, however. Martyn Lloyd-Jones railed against the scholastics, too. So did many other theologians of the mid-twentieth century. This was hardly unique to Van Til! Those who did not hold to such a position (such as Vos) were in a distinctly minority position. As I have pointed out in an earlier post, however, Van Til was still influenced positively by the scholastics, even when he didn’t know it. So the situation is more complicated on this point than Mathison lets on. Mathison asserts that Van Til rested much of his case on this erroneous historical-theological position (212). To my mind, Mathison has not proved this.

Furthermore, to question Van Til’s scholarship (211) because of this seems like a misplaced critique. As the twentieth century progressed, the secondary sources on every issue mushroomed well past what old Princeton had to deal with (and today it is so insane that scholars cannot master the secondary sources on almost any topic in theology). Mathison might not be aware of it, but when Van Til wrote his book on Karl Barth, he read all of Barth’s Church Dogmatics in the original German, and his copy at WTS is completely full of Van Til’s notes, underlining, etc. This is because he wrote two books on Karl Barth. Mathison’s point on page 211, while seemingly limited to the historical questions, is not qualified in such a way as to make allowances for the fact that all theologians now have to rely somewhat on secondary sources for some issues. We can’t be experts in everything, now matter how much we try. VT did not write a book on the scholastics. His comments on them were typically ad hoc. I haven’t read the Princeton guys with this particular question in mind, but I would be surprised if there aren’t a few comments here and there that are dependent on secondary sources. At any rate, I do not think Mathison has proven that VT rested much of his case for Reformed apologetics over against traditional apologetics on his Calvin versus the Calvinists viewpoint. Mathison has proven that VT was a theologian of his time, influenced, as we all are, by trends of which we may not always be self-aware.

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 4

In chapter 3, Mathison reviews VT’s teaching on the effects of the Fall on humanity, as well as God’s grace. In the process, he looks at VT’s views on natural theology, a bit of a hot topic today.

Mathison starts by noting VT’s rejection of the idea of “brute facts,” by which VT meant “uninterpreted facts.” This does not mean that everything is in the eye of the beholder, a form of relativism. It means that facts always have a context, and that the ultimate context for any fact is God’s knowledge.

The fall of humanity into sin brought about a substitution of man in place of God as the ultimate reference point for facts. Doing so, however, creates a huge distortion of reality. Since no human knows all things and all the interconnections, humanity’s knowledge is always incomplete, but if we also deprive ourselves of the ultimate context for any fact, then all facts become “brute facts.”

In VT, therefore, we have two basic possibilities with regard to knowledge. In the Christian version, God has the exhaustive Creator/archetypal knowledge. We don’t have to have that to know something truly. To know something truly (in the context of the VT quotation on page 75) is to know how something relates to the plan of God. By this definition, of course, all forms of unbelief share in erroneous conceptions of truth. What VT also claims is that if a person doesn’t go with the Christian version, then he has to supply all the interconnections himself. This is the essence of the grasp at autonomy that all forms of unbelief make.

Can an unregenerate person make any progress in these sorts of things? As VT points out, the noetic effects of the Fall (which is the impact the Fall has had on the human mind) are hugely deleterious. A natural theology, therefore, built on human autonomy, cannot produce truth in the way truth has just been described (as conforming to the mind of God). This does not preclude nature speaking a la Psalm 19 and Romans 1. Nor does it preclude what we can learn from creation as believers.

The difficulty that Mathison later points out is this: if unregenerated man cannot produce true (in the sense of conformity to the mind of God) natural theology, then how can he know as much as he does? And how do we account for the “seed of religion” that Calvin discusses? How can Paul say that the attributes of God are clearly revealed in what has been made? Don’t we want to say that everyone in the world knows that the true God exists? I would answer that I think VT would say that the sense of “true” just used (conforming to the mind of God) does not preclude other definitions of “true,” even if such truth is distorted when seen in a larger system. Let’s talk about an unregenerate physicist, for example. He can know a rather large body of facts about how the universe works (and have a lot of theories which might approximate quite well the actual state of affairs). To use an example Mathison will use later, he can understand human language. However, these things are as so many atomistic, discreet points on an invisible line. They have no overall cohesion. To have that cohesion, he would have to understand all those things in connection to the mind of God and His plan. That is why the unbeliever can never know anything truly, if one defines “truly” in the way just described. Unregenerate man knows things atomistically and autonomously, which always involves distortion the second one seeks for a higher level of cohesion. But in the sense of knowing that atomistic fact, an unregenerate man can know many such things. He can know that 2+2=4. He can know how to communicate in human language. Or, as VT would say, the unregenerate man has all things in common with regenerate man ontologically, but nothing in common epistemologically. To anticipate a later criticism I will have of Mathison, I think Mathison expands too much VT’s categories of what fallen humanity cannot do or understand.

Mathison does rightly note the effect of common grace on unregenerate man’s knowledge. Unregenerate man is not consistent in applying autonomy to his own knowledge. This inconsistency is largely due to common grace, which means there can be hints of higher levels of accuracy in his knowledge, just as the reverse can happen to Christians because of indwelling sin.

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 3

We dive a bit deeper into the question of epistemology in chapter 2 on creation and revelation. In addition to saying many useful things in expounding VT’s system, we also come across some puzzlement. We come across the statements again that VT made about having to know everything to know anything. Mathison asks, “But why would man have to know everything in order to have true knowledge of anything?” Mathison’s answer, as to what VT believes is that “Because, as we observed in the previous chapter, true knowledge of anything requires knowledge of everything” (62). There has to be a supreme knower, who knows all things exhaustively and in all its connections in order for us to a derivative knowledge. If God is not that Knower, then man has to fill the gap himself.

What is the nature of “true” in this connection? Again, as we said last time, there is more than one possibility. The contexts of VT’s quotations in this section of Mathison have to do with ethical righteousness. True knowledge, in these contexts, is defined as corresponding to God’s complete knowledge. The unbeliever cannot achieve this because he does not assume God’s perfect knowledge as the precondition for his own knowledge. He then has to assume his own knowledge, conceived in rebellion against God, as the benchmark for knowing something. This will inevitably distort all his knowledge, even 2+2=4.

As Mathison notes, VT does not claim that we have to know all facts in order to have true knowledge. VT claims that true knowledge (ethically righteous knowledge) has to be founded on God’s knowledge. We have to be receptively “post-interpreting” (my somewhat clumsy made-up word) what God has already pre-interpreted.

Mathison makes a small, but rather important note that a “limiting concept” is something that needs another idea in order to be properly understood.

I thought this was one of the stronger chapters in the book, and I did not find much to quibble with in his description of VT’s ideas. Whether he draws the correct conclusions from VT’s ideas of what true knowledge is is certainly debatable.

The question that arises for me, and that Mathison does not really answer is this: what is Mathison’s position on the unity of knowledge? I get the impression that he has reservations about the idea, but I am not clear as to what those reservations are. Does Mathison think this is some sort of idealistic postulate? He seems to think so in later chapters. But idealists are not the first people to think of a unity of knowledge. Look at the etymological definition of “university” for one thing. Wasn’t the medieval synthesis an attempt to acknowledge the unity of all truth?

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 2

The place Mathison starts is the place Van Til usually starts: with the doctrine of God. Mathison notes that Van Til is a confessionally Reformed theologian (35) and that “The doctrine of the Triune God is the cornerstone of Van Til’s apologetic thought” (38). Mathison, in my opinion, rightly keys in on knowledge as a basic aspect of VT’s system. God’s knowledge is foundational for human knowledge. It is not the only architectonic feature of VT (the Triune God, the self-attesting authority of Scripture, and maybe a couple of other doctrines) are also vital to what VT is attempting to do.

Mathison also brings out the Trinitarian nature of VT’s theology, noting the “God is a person” language, and seemingly (at least at this point) getting VT correct here (45), that VT is saying the essence of God is personal. I will come out right now and say that I believe two things are correct about VT’s language on “God is a person”: 1. I am utterly convinced that VT is orthodox in what he means (see Lane Tipton’s work to see how this is true). 2. I am also utterly convinced that this isn’t the best language for a normal person in the pew to hear. The essence of God is personal, as in tri-personal. This seems perfectly adequate for avoiding the kinds of problems VT saw. One thing I think Mathison has missed, though, is that VT is also describing how we normally speak about God. If we say, “God revealed himself in nature and in Scripture,” we are talking about God as a single person in our language. Our normal language uses singular and personal pronouns to refer to God quite often. This kind of language does not threaten the doctrine of the Trinity, as it is all over Scripture. As Mathison points out later in the book, the normal, orthodox version of describing the Trinity has safeguards in place to avoid describing God’s essence as an impersonal force, and thus, the traditional language was not really broken. As we will see, however, even though Mathison here acknowledges what VT was trying to do, and even though, in a later chapter, he seems to grant that VT was not unorthodox in what he said, Mathison still winds up accusing VT of “teaching dangerously false doctrines” (188). Even though he seems to grant that VT is orthodox, he ends the paragraph with something that takes with the left hand what he granted with the right. I think Mathison is committing a bit of a word-concept fallacy here. VT did not teach false doctrine on the Trinity. At worst, he used less than clear language to teach correct doctrine on the Trinity. And, when properly understood and explained, even VT’s language can be said to be clear. I would not use VT’s language myself on this point, but only because I am a bit lazy, and VT’s language requires WAY too much explanation (Lane Tipton spent two hours explaining it in his MARS lectures) in order to achieve clarity. However, I would also say VT did not teach error on the Trinity. VT liked to be provocative on occasion. Mathison did the same thing with his title “Christianity and Van Tillianism,” did he not?

The last issue for this post is that of knowledge. I am going to state that I think VT’s position on knowledge (especially as interpreted by Mathison) has a many-layered irony to it. But first, what I think VT is saying (and not saying!). VT is saying that God’s knowledge is not only quantitatively different from ours, but also qualitatively different, because of the Creator-creature distinction. This should not be controversial, either in terms of what VT is actually saying or on an evaluation of what he said. This is precisely the same thing as the archetypal/ectypal distinction in the Reformed scholastics (see, for example, Johannes a Marck’s Medulla, 1.7-8). How does the following quotation grab you? “[I]t is evident that God knows HImself most completely, and so no one is a more perfect theologian, Matthew 11:27, neither in this particular is the Holy Spirit inferior to the Father or the Son, 1 Corinthians 2:10, 11. It is no less certain that God has decreed to communicate some knowledge of Himself with Creatures, 1 Corinthians 2:7. Neither will any of our Theology be able to be described as true, which does not correspond to that Knowledge of God concerning Himself and divine things, which Knowledge He decreed to be manifested to us in one way or another.” Van Til, right? No, Bernhardinus De Moor’s Perpetual Commentary on a Marck, vol 1, p. 93, in Dilday’s translation. I am rather astounded that Mathison did not even bring up the archtypal/ectypal distinction in theology. Here is the many-fold irony: Van Til typically verbally rejected the scholastic theologians. However, his view of knowledge is very much in line with the archetypal/ectypal distinction, which earlier theologians surely got from the scholastics. I do not know if VT ever used the terms “archetypal” and “ectypal.” He certainly does not seem to know where this distinction in knowledge comes from in the tradition. Mathison critiques VT on his doctrine of knowledge as if it is a departure from Reformed theology, but which happens to be in line with the scholastics, whom Mathison likes!

The problem with Mathison’s treatment of VT on the point of knowledge comes down to the definition of the word “true.” In the quotations in which VT uses this word in connection with having to know everything in order to know anything, it seems to me that he is using this word “true” to mean almost the equivalent of “archetypal.” He certainly means “exhaustive.” However, in other places, he seems to be using the word “true” to mean “opposite to false.” These are not the same at all! Mathison doesn’t make any distinction between these different uses. VT cannot be meaning that unless one knows absolutely everything, then one can know nothing truly as opposed to falsely. Elsewhere he is quite clear that a Christian’s analogical re-interpretive knowledge is NOT false, and that even in the case of unbelievers, common grace can allow them to know many true (as opposed to false) things. But the unbeliever can never know anything truly, if by “truly” we mean either “archetypal” or even “in line with the archetypal knowledge in a creaturely way”. Instead, VT must be hammering away at the Creator-creature distinction when he says that to know anything one must know everything.

In yet another irony, the categories of knowledge that the scholastics used can be quite useful in understanding VT. True knowledge is divided first into archetypal/ectypal. Then the ectypal is typically divided into the knowledge of union (Christ’s knowledge as the God-man), the knowledge of vision (the blessed in heaven as well as the angels), and the knowledge of pilgrims (redeemed Christians “on the way”). Then, there are various false knowledges associated with unbelief. The scholastic categories may not precisely correspond to VT’s categories. VT is quite clear on the Creator-creature distinction being qualitative. But the analogical knowledge of the redeemed is true (as opposed to false) but not true, if one means Creator knowledge.

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