This Blog Has Moved

This blog has moved to www.vox-veritatis.com. Please modify your bookmarks, links, and feeds accordingly.

This blog will stay up for reference purposes (as long as Google allows), but I'm not planning to add any new content. In addition, I'm planning to go through the archives, and revise and migrate a number of posts from this blog over to the new one. Insofar as I migrate a post over to the new blog, I will add a link to the post on this blog that points to the revised content there.

As a final note, I'd like to thank my readers for bearing with me through long droughts of new postings. Inasmuch as you have found this blog to be edifying, I hope and pray that you will find the new site to be so all the more.

Levels of Context and Conflicting Propositional Attitudes

When we analyze any given situation, we often react in multiple, conflicting ways. For instance, we may rejoice in the fact that an evil tyrant or terrorist has been put to death. After all, the death of such individuals entails the cessation of the evils and hardships that they were intent on bringing upon others, and that is something to rejoice about. Yet, at the same time, we cannot rejoice fully, because we know that such people are created in the image of God, and because of that, death is an unnatural thing, to be approached seriously and reverently. As a result, we react ambivalently to some extent. We may openly celebrate the triumph of good and the downfall of evil, but yet there is a nagging reminder that death is not a good thing, and a serious matter to be addressed reverently, not flippantly. How are we to make sense of this seeming contradiction within ourselves?

Now consider God, who on the one hand "does not take pleasure in the death of the wicked" (Ez. 33:11), yet on the other hand boldly proclaims that He is "The One forming light and creating darkness, Causing well-being and creating calamity; I am the LORD who does all these" (Is. 45:7). The calamities of which God speaks certainly include the death of the wicked. But the problem is even further confounded when we see that "our God is in the heavens; He does whatever He pleases" (Psa. 115:3). Ergo, God is pleased to bring calamity, which includes the death of the wicked. Ergo, God takes pleasure in the death of the wicked. This conclusion certainly does not seem right, but what are we to do with the logic? How are we to make sense of this seeming contradiction?

In this post, I argue that what appear, at a surface level, to be conflicting propositional attitudes concerning the same proposition are actually different propositional attitudes about different propositions that stand in a subsumption relation to one another. This understanding allows us to resolve apparent theological contradictions of the above kind, and helps us to make sense of our own ambivalent reactions to various situations.

Levels of Context and Propositional Attitudes

A propositional attitude is a relational mental state connecting a person to a proposition. Examples include what a person believes concerning a proposition, and what a person feels (or emotes) concerning a proposition. So, for example, God being pleased to create the world is a propositional attitude relating God's emotion of pleasure to the proposition of His creation of the world.

It is important to note that two propositions may be related, with respect to abstraction, but not be the same proposition. As an illustration, consider the propositions expressed by the following two statements:

P1: God creates man.
P2: God creates something.

The propositions expressed by these two statements are related, but they are not the same. The statement of P1 asserts something specific, while the statement of P2 asserts something more general. It could be the case that the "something" God creates per P2 is man, which God creates per P1. Given the meaning of the two statements, it is logically possible that both refer to the same act of creation. However, given the meaning of the two statements, it is not necessary that they refer to the same act of creation. The statement of P2 could very well refer to the creation of water, squirrels, or any number of other things. Because the statement of P2 can refer to the same act of creation as the statement of P1, as well as a number of other acts of creation, P2 subsumes P1. Put another way, a proposition X subsumes a proposition Y if and only if X is more general than Y - that is, all of the possible worlds in which Y holds true are also possible worlds in which X holds true. Two propositions stand in a subsumption relation if and only if one subsumes the other. Also, let X properly subsume Y if and only if the possible worlds in which Y holds true are a proper subset of the possible worlds in which X holds true. Two propositions stand in a proper subsumption relation if and only if one properly subsumes the other.

The apparent theological contradictions described above, as well as our own ambivalence towards some things, can be explained in terms of propositional attitudes towards two different propositions that stand in a subsumption relation. Consider, for example, the proposition expressed by the statement "A man kills another man" (K1). What are the appropriate propositional attitudes towards this proposition? On the one hand, it is impossible to make any sound moral judgment, since we don't have enough information to conclude whether or not this killing is sinful, or morally justified. However, we do know that since man is created in the image of God, death is an unnatural, horrible thing. Thus, even though we cannot make a sound moral judgment on this proposition, we ought to still express horror at the idea that a human being, created in God's image, is in the process of dying.

Now, consider this proposition, which is subsumed by K1: "A police officer kills an armed hostage-taking bank robber" (K2). Having that extra information changes things. Now, we can make a sound moral judgment on the matter: the man doing the killing (the police officer) is a hero, risking his own life to save the life of the person taken hostage. Not only is this a morally justifiable act, it is a morally commendable act.

Now suppose that a hypothetical person who always maintains appropriate propositional attitudes encounters K2, say by reading a newspaper, or watching the news. What would be his reaction? On the one hand, such a person would be glad for the life of the hostage that was saved, and would admire the heroism of the police officer displayed in saving the life of the hostage. He would take joy in the fact that tragedy was averted, and that justice and righteousness won the day. On the other hand, thinking about K2 also brings K1 to mind. Such a person then remembers that the hostage-taker was a human being as well, one who probably had friends and loved ones who will grieve over his death. Such is the horror of death, as a judgment for sin upon a fallen world. Thinking about K1 brings a measure of solemnity to the occasion. As a result, the person experiences ambivalence: joy for the triumph of justice and righteousness, tempered to some degree by solemnity at the horror of death, even for one whose death at the hands of another was morally justified.

What should be noted, however, is that the conflicting propositional attitudes (joy and solemnity) are not towards the same proposition, but towards two different propositions. However, because K1 subsumes K2, and inasmuch as thinking about K2 also brings K1 to mind, then one will experience ambivalence in thinking about K2, because the propositional attitudes regarding both propositions will be present.

Formulating things in another manner, K1 and K2 are at two different levels of context. As K1 is more general, it contains less information, and is at a "lower" level of context (because there is less contextual information contained within the proposition). As K2 is more specific, it contains more information, and is at a "higher" level of context (because there is more contextual information contained within the proposition). Now, when the one analyzes a proposition at a high level of context, the mind often simultaneously analyzes subsuming propositions at lower levels of context. Inasmuch as these more general propositions induce propositional attitudes that conflict with the propositional attitude induced by the high-level proposition, the individual will experience ambivalence, simply as a result of the simultaneous presence of two conflicting propositional attitudes. The two propositions are not the same, but they are related by subsumption, and because of this, it seems like the two conflicting propositional attitudes concern the same proposition. Hence the source of apparent contradiction in our own minds.

Apparent Theological Contradictions Resolved

Given this framework, the apparent theological contradictions discussed above can be readily resolved. Consider first the proposition, taken from Ez. 33:11, that

1: God does not take pleasure in the death of the wicked.

It should be noted that 1 is quite general. It doesn't contain any contextual information about the deaths of specific wicked individuals, or the circumstances of their deaths. Next, consider the proposition, taken from Is. 45:7, that

2: God brings calamity in certain contexts.

Now, the calamity that God brings often befalls the wicked, resulting in their death. Hence,

3: The calamity God brings results in the death of the wicked.

Next, consider the proposition, taken from Psa. 115:3, that

4: God does whatever He pleases.

It follows from 2 and 4 that

5: God is pleased to bring calamity in certain contexts.

From 3 and 5 it follows that

6: God is pleased, in certain contexts, to bring calamity that results in the death of the wicked.

Now, to arrive at a contradiction, one would also need the following proposition:

7: God is pleased in the death of the wicked.

However, there is no reason why 7 follows from 6. Remember that 1 is a general proposition, as is 7. However, 6 is more specific proposition, at a higher level of context. There are certain contexts in which, calamity being brought as a righteous and just punishment for sin, is a thing that is pleasing to God. Proposition 6 does not state that God is pleased in calamity, in and of itself, but that God is pleased in calamity being brought in certain contexts, which include the vindication of His holiness and righteousness.

To elucidate this point, consider the following two propositions:

E1: Some wicked men die.
E2: Some wicked men die in a calamity that God brings about in the context of vindicating His holiness and righteousness.

E1 subsumes E2. Yet, there is no reason why God's propositional attitude concerning E1 and E2 should be the same. Indeed, Scripturally, they are not. God propositional attitude regarding the lower-level proposition E1 is that of displeasure (per Ez. 33:11). However, God is pleased with the totality of what He brings to pass, in the context where everything is considered (per Ps. 115:3). Hence, God's propositional attitude towards the higher-level proposition E2 is one of approval.

Hence, when the different levels of context are taken into consideration, such apparent theological difficulties are easily resolved. From both these Scriptures and the examples of human ambivalence above follows the principle of the Non-Entailment of the Equivalence of Propositional Attitudes Induced by Subsumptive Propositions (NEEPAISP):

NEEPAISP: If two propositions p and q stand in a proper subsumption relation, it does not follow that the propositional attitudes induced by p are the same as the appropriate propositional attitudes induced by q.

Conclusion

When analysis of propositional attitudes is performed at a shallow level, one is likely to see contradictions in assertions concerning those propositional attitudes. So is the case with God, of whom contradiction is not uncommonly charged on the basis of such shallow analysis. Unfortunately for critics who employ such shallow analysis, lack of depth is not a ground of rational justification. When we take the time to analyze things to the level of exactitude of whom the Lord of Glory is worthy, we will find such claims of incoherence specious and the coherence of Scriptural truth affirmed.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Infant Baptism and the Great Commission

Some supporters of paedobaptism argue that the New Testament is silent on the issue of whether or not infants should be baptized. As a result, they turn to Covenant Theology to argue for the practice of paedobaptism. The issue of the veracity of Covenant Theology aside, the New Testament is not silent on the issue of whether or not infants should be baptized. While it is true that the NT does not address the issue directly, the issue is addressed indirectly, in the Great Commission, where one can only conclude that baptism is to be given to professing believers only.

The Great Commission

In the Great Commission, we have Jesus' commands to His disciples regarding how they were to take the Gospel to the nations of the World:

All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. (Matt. 28:18-20)

Though the Great Commission was given initially to Jesus' disciples, it applies to us today as well. Verses 19-20 contain Christ's command concerning the disciple-making process, including the directive to teach new disciples to obey the commands that Christ has given. Ergo, the Great Commission applies to us, and we are to teach those we disciple to obey it as well.

The Great Commission is the defining mission statement for what we are to be about doing in the work of advancing the Kingdom of God through the proclamation of the Gospel. There are three parts to the command of the commission:

1. The nations are to be made Christ's disciples,
   
2. Those that are so discipled are to be baptized, and
   
3. Those that are so discipled and baptized are to be taught to obey everything that Christ has commanded.

This progression makes natural sense. A disciple is a student, one who would follow a teacher, learn his teaching, and put it into practice. Being a disciple is fundamentally possessing the mindset of following the teacher. A new disciple may know very little of the teacher's teaching, but by virtue of the fact that he is a disciple, he will seek to learn the teaching by following the teacher. So it is with evangelism - before one can follow Christ and learn to obey all that He has commanded, one must first repent of one's sins, and in faith turn unto Christ as Savior and Lord. The act of submitting to Christ as Lord is the essence of becoming a disciple - devoting oneself to Christ, in order to learn from Him and live as He directs.

All who become such disciples are to be baptized. This also makes sense, as the newfound disciple, through baptism, is publicly identifying with his Teacher, his Lord. After becoming a disciple of Christ, one is to be publicly identified as a disciple of Christ.

After being baptized, the new disciple is then to be taught to obey all that Christ has commanded. By learning to obey Christ's commands, the disciple becomes in practice what he is to begin with in principle: one who follows and seeks to obey the Lord Jesus Christ.

Finally, after becoming a disciple, being publicly identified as a disciple, and learning how to live as a disciple, the disciple then obeys a command he has learned, the Great Commission, and becomes himself a maker of disciples. That is the genius of the Great Commission, of God's plan and purpose to advance His Kingdom on earth through the proclamation of the Gospel.

Baptism for Disciples

The Great Commission is the only passage in Scripture where we, as followers of Christ in this present age, are given a command regarding baptism. And what is the command given here? Baptize one's children so that they may possess the covenant sign? Baptize one's children so that in this they might be saved? Not at all! Rather, the only command given to the Church concerning baptism commands us to baptize those that have become disciples of Christ. That is the totality of Christ's instruction to the Church concerning baptism - we are to baptize those that repent of their sins and turn in faith to follow Christ.

Now, can an infant be a disciple of Christ? Given that a disciple is one who learns from another, an essential requirement of a disciple of Christ is the ability to learn Christ's teachings. But the mind of an infant is undeveloped, and incapable of learning the teachings of Christ. Therefore, an infant cannot be a disciple of Christ. As we are only to baptize disciples of Christ, infants are not to be baptized.

Conclusion

If we read Scripture for what it says, and not for what it is made to say upon the imposition of alien presuppositions, we will find that Scripture does indeed address the topic of who is to be baptized, and that infants, whose minds are so undeveloped that they cannot be disciples of Christ, are not appropriate subjects of the ordinance of baptism. May we ever seek to follow Christ and understand His Word, so that we may be ever more faithful disciples of Him.

Soli Deo Gloria!

God, Calvinism, and the Burning Building Analogy

Critics of Calvinism often take issue with how with how the love of God is defined under Calvinism. Instead of recognizing God's freedom to have mercy on whom He will have mercy, and compassion on whom He will have compassion (Rom. 9:15), they insist that a loving God must feel compelled to save every individual human being possible, and actively attempt to do so. As I have previously demonstrated, this line of thought is logically untenable, resulting in an irreconcilable dilemma for the critic of Calvinism. Rather that address the idea that a loving God must feel compelled to save every individual human being possible, in this post I address a common argument used to support this claim: the Burning Building Analogy. I demonstrate that the analogy is not applicable to the God of the Bible, and as such carries no probative force against the Biblical Doctrines of Grace.

The Burning Building Analogy

The analogy in question goes something like this: suppose you are walking down the street, and you see a building on fire. Suppose that you hear cries for help coming from within, and realize that you have an opportunity to save the person trapped within the burning building. What would you do? What would you expect a "loving" person to do in such a situation? Would you not expect a loving person to go in and attempt to save the person trapped within the building? So then, it supposedly follows, for God to be loving, He would also have to do as much as He possibly could to save every sinner from the fires of hell. Such an analogy is persuasive to some, as it evokes powerful emotions connected with life and death, and brings to mind a strong sense of moral duty to attempt to save the lives of would-be victims of tragedy. The similarity of imagery between the fires of a burning building and the fires of hell probably doesn't hurt, either. Yet, for all of its emotional weight, such an analogy carries no probative force against Calvinism, and the way that the love of God is defined within that system.

The Purpose of the Analogy

It is important to note that the analogy plays a very specific role in a critique of Calvinism. The Calvinist posits a formulation of the love of God that is both Scripturally and logically consistent. Unfortunately, such a notion of the love of God offends the emotional sensibilities of the critic of Calvinism, its Scriptural and logical consistency notwithstanding. As a result, this analogy is brought in, to attempt to demonstrate that while the Calvinistic formulation of the love of God might seem to be correct from a logical point of view, it simply can't be correct if we allow ourselves to be honest with what we all know that love entails. This analogy attempts to demonstrate that what we all intuitively know love to entail is not what is entailed by the Calvinistic formulation. Ergo, the Calvinistic formulation is incorrect, and this is (supposedly) known not necessarily by any exegetical or logical argument, but by an appeal to what we all intuitively know love to be.

Unfortunately, an argument by analogy carries no probative force if the analogy employed is not applicable to the object of the argument. In this case, if it can be shown that the situation of a man coming upon a burning building and the situation of God dealing with hell-bound sinners are sufficiently disanalogous, then there is no reason why what is true of a loving person in one situation should be what is true of a loving person in the other.

But even more so, the burden of proof is upon the one using this analogy to demonstrate that the two situations are sufficiently analogous. To do otherwise is to do injustice to the transcendence of God. God is categorically different from His creation, and while there are certain commonalities between God and man, there are significant differences in those commonalities. For instance, both God and man possess knowledge. However, man's knowledge is finite and learned mediately through a sequence of temporal steps, while God's knowledge is infinite, and known eternally and immediately. God and man are sufficiently different, because of God's transcendence, that it does not suffice to simply say "X is true for man, therefore X is true for God." Rather, given God's transcendence, the burden of proof lies upon the one claiming such a relation to demonstrate that the relation does indeed hold. Unfortunately, those employing the Burning Building Analogy are usually not wont to demonstrate that God and man are sufficiently analogous in a certain way such that what is true about the love of man is also true about the love of God. As such demonstration is not forthcoming, the Calvinist has no reason to accept that the Burning Building Analogy carries any probative force against his theological system.

The Analogy Disanalogous

While it is unfortunate that attempts to justify the applicability of the Burning Building Analogy are often not forthcoming from the critics of Calvinism, this is not surprising given that the analogy can be demonstrated to be disanalogous on a number of levels. First, and perhaps most fundamental, is that in the analogy, the person being rescued is an "innocent victim" of tragedy, while with God, all hell-bound sinners have been justly condemned of having sinned against God, and hell is their proper and just punishment. To clear up any potential misconceptions, the phrase "innocent victim" simply denotes the fact that the victim is in peril for his life, but not as the result of a governmental judicial punishment. In this sense, any person killed in an accident or natural tragedy is an "innocent victim," while the murderer hanged at high noon is not. But with God, there are no "innocent victims" when it comes to hell. There is none righteous, no not one (Rom 3:10). All have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God (Rom 3:23). To make the analogy properly analogous, one would have to formulate it terms of a person coming upon the legal execution of a murderer. Say, for instance, a hapless bystander finding himself about to witness the execution of Ted Bundy. Would one claim that such a bystander would be unloving if he did not try to break Bundy out of prison and save his life? Or would such action be unloving to all of the families of the victims of his crimes, who are witnessing justice being served in his execution? To formulate the analogy correctly, one has to take out the "innocent victim" of a building fire, and insert in his place the just and lawful execution of the most vile criminal one can imagine. Then one might be starting to get somewhere.

Second, the relation of the rescuer to the victim is disanalogous to the relation of God to the condemned sinner. In the analogy, the rescuer has no relation to the victim, except that of a fellow human being. Yet, the relation of God to the sinner is not that of a stranger, but as the party offended by the sinner. More than that, God is the judge who has condemned the sinner, and executioner carrying out the sentence. So, to make the analogy more properly analogous, one has to take out the indifferent stranger coming upon an innocent victim, and replace that with a perfectly just judge condemning a murderer to death (the most vile criminal you can imagine), and then preparing to carry out that sentence. Now, it might be the case that in our revised analogy, the judge might be a very loving family man. Good and kind to his wife and children. A good and faithful provider, who would do anything to protect them and ensure their welfare. Now imagine this man about to execute Jeffrey Dahmer for his horrific crimes. Would we call such a person unloving for not attempting to save Dahmer for the death penalty he had coming to him? Or would we call him a pillar of righteousness and goodness in the community, a champion of justice and peace? Wouldn't we say that it is perfectly consistent for such a man to be loving person, and yet still carry out a just sentence of execution? Using the critic's principle of inference - if this is true for man, then why is it not also true for God? Why is it that when we formulate this analogy in a more properly analogous manner, it supports the Calvinistic notion of the love of God? Why is it that the analogy only serves the critic of Calvinism when it is formulated in a terribly disanalogous manner?

Third, the analogy suffers from the Creator/creation distinction. In the analogy, a man rescues another man. However, the application of the analogy is to God rescuing a man. Given the transcendence of God, and thus the categorical difference between God and man, it would be a more proper inference if God were to rescue another god (though no others exist, of course - Is. 45:5-6), just as one man rescues another man. The analogy would be more proper if beings of like kind rescued one another, instead of one being of one kind rescuing another being of a transcendentally different kind. This is not necessarily fatal to the analogy, but as discussed above, the burden of proof is upon the one utilizing the analogy to demonstrate that the analogy properly accounts for the distinctions between the Creator and His creation.

The Analogy Reversed

Perhaps most striking is the fact that God allows thousands of people to die in building fires every year. The critic of Calvinism attempts to claim that God would not be loving for not attempting save sinners from hell-fire, because a human being would not be loving for not attempting to save another human being from a building fire. But if the analogy holds from building fires to hell-fire, how much more does it hold from building fires to building fires! If a man is unloving for not attempting to save another man from a building fire, would not God also be unloving from not attempting to save human beings from the building fires in which they die every day? If the love of man and the love of God are so similar, why wouldn't this be the case? And it is not as if rescue from an earthly fire depends upon a free will "decision for Christ," as the critic of Calvinism is wont to claim that rescue from hell-fire depends upon. Rather, God could simply put out the fire, teleport the person to a safe location, supernaturally protect them à la Dan. 3:25, or any number of other things in order to save that person from a horrible flaming death. But if God is loving, and if being a loving person entails saving others from building fires, then why doesn't God save people from building fires? The critic of Calvinism can attempt (unsuccessfully) to circumvent the issue with respect to hell-fire, and claim that God can't force a free will decision upon a human being, and is thus unable to save those who do not wish to be saved. But is the critic of Calvinism really willing to say that God is unable to save people from building fires? If the critic answers that God is unable, the one is left to wonder what philosophical gymnastics will we witness in order to try to explain how this is not a denial of omnipotence. And if God is able to save people from building fires, then how is He loving in allowing them to perish, if the love of man and the love of God is truly analogous? Is the critic of Calvinism willing to be consistent and own up to the implications of his own analogy, and admit that God is unloving for allowing people to perish in building fires?

The critic might attempt to salvage the analogy by claiming that earthly death (by fire or any other means) is a just penalty for sin. However, hell-fire is also a just penalty for sin. But the whole purpose of the analogy is to defeat the idea that God can be loving, and yet execute the just eternal punishment for sin without attempting to save those so justly punished. But if the analogy applies to eternal punishment, then it most certainly also applies to temporal punishment. If God must attempt to save people from punishment for sin in order to be loving, then inasmuch as physical death by building fire is a punishment for sin, then God must attempt to save people from this punishment. Inasmuch as He does not do so, then He is an unloving God on the critic's theological system, a being whose actions are indistinguishable from indifference, cruelty, and hatred.

Hence, the absurdity, futility, and impropriety of submitting the love of God to the Burning Building Analogy.

Conclusion

The Burning Building Analogy is not uncommonly used by critics of Calvinism to argue that Calvinistic notion of the love of God is untenable. However, upon rigorous examination, it is the Burning Building Analogy itself that is untenable. Not only is the analogy inapplicable to the God of the Bible, but when it is formulated in a way that is more applicable, it supports the Calvinistic notion of God's love. Even more so, if the analogy is taken to its logical conclusion, one must conclude that God is unloving for failing to spare people from building fires. May we move away from faulty patterns of reasoning and submit our minds to the truth of God's Word.

Soli Deo Gloria!

The Myth of "Bodily Autonomy"

It is not uncommon for adherents of the pro-choice platform to claim that anti-abortion laws force women to give birth, and thus violate their bodily autonomy. Some even go so far as to claim such violations of bodily autonomy are equivalent to slavery, just as slavery in the antebellum South violated the bodily autonomy of those so enslaved. However, such claims are specious, as they rest upon an absurd notion of "bodily autonomy."

The notion of "bodily autonomy" conveys the idea of having the right to do whatever one wants with one's own body. As a consequence, no one has the right to impose conditions upon what a person can or cannot do with one's own body. There is a certain extent to which this idea is correct. Inasmuch as man is endowed with inalienable rights to life and liberty, there is a certain extent to which the autonomy of the individual is to be honored by others.

However, such autonomy is not absolute, as there are definite moral restrictions upon what a person may and may not do with his or her own body. Consider an example where one man uses his body to kill another man. God's moral law, as well as the laws of human societies, prohibit the use of one's body for the purposes of unjustifiably killing another human being. Thus, no human being possesses absolute bodily autonomy. Even more so, whatever autonomy a human being does possess is not inherent, but endowed by God. Thus, it is absurd to chafe at a certain moral regulation (such as the prohibition of murder) as a restriction of one's "autonomy," when it is the same God that made the moral proscription who has also given man his basic human rights in the first place.

In the end analysis, absolute bodily autonomy is equivalent to anarchy - the absence of laws. Inasmuch as there is a law that restricts people from doing things like stealing, assaulting, and murdering, then people in that society do not have absolute "bodily autonomy," since there are things that they can physically do with their bodies that are prohibited by law. If a law that "strips a woman of bodily autonomy" (in the absolute sense, as is generally intended in pro-choice rhetoric) is equivalent to slavery, then anything short of anarchy is equivalent to slavery. Laws prohibiting theft are "slavery." Laws prohibiting murder are "slavery."

A law that prohibits abortion is simply a law that prohibits murder. An act of murdering an unborn human being is no different in its moral essence than the act of murdering one's spouse. A law prohibiting a woman from hiring a doctor to unjustifiably kill her unborn child is no different, in essence, from a law prohibiting a woman from hiring a hit man to murder her husband. If laws of the former kind rob her of "bodily autonomy," then so do laws of the latter kind.

The Love of God and the Salvation of All Men

Christian critics of Calvinism often take issue with how the love of God is defined under Calvinism. Instead of recognizing God's freedom to have mercy on whom He will have mercy, and compassion on whom He will have compassion (Rom. 9:15), they insist that a loving God must feel compelled to save every individual human being possible, and actively attempt to do so. In this post, I demonstrate that such a notion is logically and Scripturally untenable, resulting in an irreconcilable dilemma for the Christian critic of Calvinism.

The Dilemma

If the love of God entails an active desire to save every individual human being, then the following dilemma obtains:

1. God loves all men such that He actively desires to save all men.
2. If God loves all men such that He actively desires to save all men, then He would save all men if able to do so.
3. God is omnipotent.
4. If God is omnipotent, then He would be able to save all men, if He knew how to do so.
5. God is omniscient.
6. If God is omniscient, then He would know all possible measures for saving all men.
7. God knows all possible measures for saving all men (5 and 6).
8. God would be able to save all men, if He knew how to do so (3 and 4).
9. God is able to save all men (7 and 8).
10. God would save all men if able to do so (1 and 2).
11. God will save all men (9 and 10).
12. Not all men will be saved (Rev. 14:9-11, 20:11-15, Lk. 16:19-31).
13. Therefore, one or more of the premises (1-6) are false (11 contradicts 12).

The Calvinist easily avoids this dilemma by denying (1). There is a sense in which God loves all men, but that results in providential blessings (Matt. 5:44-45), not election unto salvation. Rather, the electing love is an exclusive love, likened unto the love of a husband for his wife (Eph. 5:25). The love of God is a complex doctrine, and should not be treated in such a shallow manner as is often done in critiques of Calvinism. I recommend D.A. Carson's The Difficult Doctrine of the Love of God for further reading on the subject.

The Dilemma Defended

One way to circumvent the dilemma is to deny (6). Open Theism, for instance, posits that it is impossible to know the outcomes of the choices of free agents, and thus God does not know this information. It is not that such knowledge is available, and God does not possess it, but that such knowledge is logically impossible, much like a 'square circle' is a logical impossibility. Such an approach is unbiblical, however, as the Bible clearly states that God knows (and determines) one's future actions (Ps. 139:3-4,16).

Another, more popular, method of circumventing the dilemma is to deny (4). Much like Open Theism, this line of thought posits that it is impossible for a world to be actualized in which all men freely choose Christ. Much like the infamous square circle, a world in which all men freely choose to be reconciled to God is impossible to bring about. Such a notion is related to the idea of transworld depravity - that it is impossible for God to create a world in which men possess libertarian freedom, and in which they do not eventually choose to sin against Him. Beneath both notions is the idea that the actions of free agents cannot be determined, and that there is no way to bring about a world in which all of the free agents do exactly what one would desire them to do.

There are a number of problems with this type of approach to the relation of God to the freedom of man. First, these ideas are the result of putting speculative philosophy above exegetical theology. The Calvinist reads the Scriptures, and sees that while man is free, God is sovereign over the free actions of men, decreeing all that comes to pass. He then goes and produces a compatibilist philosophy that makes sense of what the Scriptures assert - a philosophical framework for understanding the assertions of Scripture. Those who posit transworld depravity and related notions have the process completely backwards - they begin by committing themselves to a philosophical notion of human freedom, and then proceed to fit them to the Procrustean bed that they have constructed. There is nothing in Scripture that even begins to suggest transworld depravity (and related notions), and nothing that is elucidated by such a notion. Such ideas are purely a product of an irrational commitment to the idea of libertarian freedom.

Secondly, however, the blessed state of the saints in heaven refutes the notion of transworld depravity. The saints in heaven presumably have free will. Yet, for all eternity (an infinite amount of time), they will choose not to sin against God. Rather, they will choose to obey God an infinite amount of times, and never choose to disobey Him, even though given infinite opportunities to do so. Given this, why could not have God created a world like this in the first place, in which people never chose to sin? Some might say that the saints in heaven do not have free will. Yet, many of the same people who posit transworld depravity (and related notions) state the libertarian freedom is an essential attribute of humanity. Without freedom, man ceases to be man. If the saints in heaven do not have free will, then what are they? Paul depicts the resurrection body as an upgrade, a vast improvement over the mortal body (1 Cor. 15:42-44). The idea of a glorified humanity does not square at all with humanity becoming subhuman, through the loss of free will.

Others might say that the saints in heaven only choose to obey because they themselves have disobeyed God, and having experienced the unpleasant consequences of such disobedience, will never do so again. In this, the glorified saint is much like a child who burns his hand on a hot stove and learns very quickly not to repeat his mistake. However, such a line of thought supports a compatibilist notion of freedom, not a libertarian notion. Under compatibilist freedom, desires and beliefs determine one's choices, so it makes sense that a desire to avoid pain plus a belief that touching a hot stove will bring about pain will result in a decision not to touch a hot stove. Under libertarian freedom, however, the actions of an agent are not determined by anything, so there is no reason why unpleasant experiences should have any effect at all upon what a person chooses to do in the future. Even more so, why are not all actions simply arbitrary, if libertarian freedom is true?

Even more damaging to the idea of transworld depravity (and related notions) is the case of those human beings that die as a result of miscarriage. Many who champion libertarian freedom would also support the idea that God saves those who die prior to birth. Yet, those who die prior to birth have not had the opportunity to make conscious decisions to obey or disobey God. Rom. 9:11-12 states that there was a time before their birth in which Jacob and Esau, though in the womb of Rebekah, had done nothing either good or bad. What about those who die in such a state, having done nothing either good or bad? Suppose that God saves such and brings them to heaven. According to the doctrine of transworld depravity, they would eventually choose to disobey God and lose their blessed estate in glory. Yet, Scripture does not support a notion of anyone that God saves falling away, especially not after death. So why could God not have created all men in an estate like these miscarried children, who never personally commit an act of sin against God, but enjoy eternal blessedness in His presence, always choosing to obey Him, even given an infinite number of opportunities to disobey? If God loves all men as the critic of Calvinism claims, it seems that God should rather have created all men never to sin against Him in the first place, like these miscarried children. But why did He not do this? Creating everyone in such an estate would be a means of "saving" them - preventing them from experiencing eternal torment in hell. If God is loving, as the critic of Calvinism asserts, then He should have created everyone in such an estate such as they would never have sinned against Him.

The eternal sinless blessedness of the saints in heaven (especially miscarried children) is a defeater for transworld depravity and related notions. If the saints in heaven freely choose to obey God, then God could have created a world in which everyone freely chooses to obey Him - either to not sin in the first place, or to accept His "free offer of salvation" to all men (as the critic of Calvinism would put it). To escape this difficulty, the critic of Calvinism must deny what the Scriptures assert about the saints in heaven, thus revealing the unbiblical nature of his theological system.

Third, a world in which everyone chooses to repent and believe the Gospel is conceivable. So why cannot God bring it about? A square circle is inconceivable as a result of its logical impossibility. However, if something is conceivable, then there is a possible world in which that thing exists. If God is omnipotent, then why is He unable to bring about this possible world, in which all men repent and turn unto Him? If He is indeed able to do this, then His unwillingness to bring such a world about refutes the notion that God loves all men such that He actively desires their salvation.

Fourth, why does salvation have to be by choice in the first place? Those who champion libertarian free will also make much ado about the fact that we must make our own personal decision to love God, and come to Him. Yet, there is nothing in salvation that inherently requires the free will choice of the sinner. Consider again the case of the saved miscarried child who dies before "having done anything either good or bad." Such a child did not make any choice so as to turn to God for salvation. If he had, that would have been something "good" that he had done prior to death. But as it is, he died prior to "having done anything either good or bad." If, as the champion of libertarian free will would likely assert, God can save this human being without him having made a "decision for Christ," why cannot God save all men without them having made a "decision for Christ"? Now, under normal circumstances, God has decided to justify on the basis of faith, and this is not here under dispute. "Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God" (Jn. 3:18). The issue is that faith is not inherently necessary to salvation, else God could not save those who die in miscarriage, who die before "having done anything either good or bad." So, if faith is not inherently necessary to salvation, why did God not simply refrain from adding this requirement, and decide save everyone regardless of faith? Once again, we have here a possible means of salvation for all, which God has decided not to implement. Once again, this refutes the idea that God loves all men such that He actively desires their salvation.

Fifth, supposing ad arguendo that libertarian freedom and transworld depravity (and related notions) are correct, the question still remains as to why God decided to create certain human beings in the first place, when He knew that they would sin and be condemned to an eternity of torment in hell. It would certainly seem to be more loving for God to simply not create a sinner who would reject Him, than to create a sinner that would reject Him and be eternally condemned. So why did God not do this? Why did He not simply create only those people that He knew would turn to Him and be saved? Once again, God has within His disposal the means of "saving" sinners from hell - by not creating them in the first place, He ensures that they will never experience an eternity of conscious torment. Rather, taking the critic of Calvinism on his own terms, it seems very unloving for God to create a person that He knows will spend eternity in hell, when He simply could have not created him in the first place.

As a result, it follows that for one to remain in a biblical theology with biblical implications, one must reject the idea that libertarian free will and transworld depravity (and related notions) render (4) untrue.

Conclusion

The critic charges Calvinism with failing to measure up where the love of God is concerned, for not stating that God loves all men so as to actively desire their salvation. Yet, it is the critic's theology that fails to pass muster when examined in the light of Scripture and logical inference. May we learn to subject our philosophy to Scripture, rather than Scripture to our philosophy, and in so doing glorify God by proclaiming His system of truth.

Soli Deo Gloria!

The Danger of "Radical Discipleship"

Nominal Christianity is a major problem for the American church, being a feel-good religion whose focus is on the comfort of the practitioner rather than the glory of God. Nominal churches dot the American landscape, and in providing a form of Christianity without the power of the Gospel, they are havens for false converts, and factories of false conversion. As such, nominal Christianity is deadweight, a hindrance to the Church universal. A number of authors have spoken out against nominal Christianity over the years, and addressing this problem is a good thing. Unfortunately, some have gone too far in their rebuke of nominal Christianity, advocating forms of "radical discipleship." With strong words, these teachers boldly condemn the nominal Christianity prevalent today, and present a form of self-denial that is unfamiliar to many in America. Yet, as I will argue here, such an emphasis often simply trades one form of self-centeredness for another. While nominal Christianity is self-centered, focused on one's individual comfort, "radical discipleship" is also self-centered, focused on the level of one's "radical" commitment to Christ, as opposed to being focused on Christ Himself.

False Christ-Centeredness

The problem with nominal Christianity is self-centeredness - an emphasis on self and comfort, with only lip service paid to Christ. In nominal Christianity, Christ is a means to an end - He is a provider of fire insurance against Hell. He is a means of respectability within the (nominally Christian) community. He is a license to live however one wants without having to suffer eternal consequences for one's deeds. For everything that is said, self comes first, even if one's actions are externally couched in pious and Christ-serving language.

Now, suppose that you are a Christian who has come out of nominal Christianity. You are rightly incensed about the sinfulness of that religion, and are rightly motivated to speak out against it, and rebuke those who adhere to it. Suppose that you are a pastor, or a teacher, or one who has some influence over a body of believers. What would be your strategy for tackling the problem of nominal Christianity?

One approach might be to attack the accumulation of worldly possessions. After all, most nominal Christians seem more concerned with earthly possessions than with Christ. So you decide to extoll the practice of selling what you have to give to the poor, or leaving everything behind to go overseas. You emphasize self-denial, where self-denial (for you) involves parting with all unnecessary earthly goods. You lade your congregation with guilt over the unnecessary possessions that they own, and encourage them to become radical by focusing on ministry instead.

Another (complementary) approach might be to attack recreation, entertainment, and leisure time. After all, most nominal Christians seem more concerned with earthly pleasures than with Christ. So you decide to extoll the practice of giving up entertainment and recreational activities, and devoting one's leisure time to other ministerial pursuits. You emphasize self-denial, where self-denial (for you) involves parting with all unnecessary pleasurable activities. You lade your congregation with guilt over how they waste their time, and encourage them to become radical by focusing on ministry instead.

Perhaps another (complementary) approach might be to attack the lack of "radical" commitment to Christ. After all, most nominal Christians do not seem to have any deeper-than-surface-level commitment to Christ. So you decide to extol the practice of making radical and extreme commitments, and getting out of one's "comfort zone." You emphasize self-denial, where self-denial (for you) involves "stretching oneself" though making radical commitments. You lade your congregation with guilt over how uncommitted they are, and encourage them to become radical by instead strongly committing themselves to ministerial activities.

Now, these strategies might seem to work. If you are successful, they will be laden down with guilt for how poor of Christians they see themselves to be. And feeling guilty, they will be motivated to change - to do anything to get rid of the guilt that you have laid upon them. And how lucky for them, but that you have a solution for their problem - a penance whereby they may absolve their consciences of guilt. The solution is simply more: give more, sacrifice more, do more, commit to more. More, more, more. And the more they do, the more the realize that they cannot possibly do enough. And this will bring them into more guilt, from which they will be motivated to do even more of what you have set before them.

Before you know it, you have a congregation of hard-working, ministry-minded individuals who are making great sacrifices to (putatively) advance the kingdom of God. You've done a good thing right? You've cured them of their nominal Christianity, right? Or have you merely traded one form of self-centeredness for another? In reacting against nominal Christianity, have you brought your congregation to Christ, or have you simply converted them to another foul perversion of the truth? I would contend that such a congregation, while no longer nominally Christian, is no more "Christian" than before, for the simple fact that guilt-motivated, works-emphasizing legalistic Christianity is no more Christian than pleasure-motivated, comfort-emphasizing nominal Christianity.

True Christ-Centeredness

A man who is motivated by guilt is not Christ-centered. He is still self-centered, because all of his actions spring from a desire to alleviate himself of the guilty feelings that he is experiencing. Just as a man who fundamentally pursues the satisfaction of earthly pleasures is self-centered, so also is the man who fundamentally pursues the alleviation of guilt. It is a tragedy that many people go from nominal Christianity to legalistic Christianity, thinking they have found something of spiritual value, when in reality they are no closer to the heart of Christ than before. The same Jesus who said "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me" (Lk. 9:23) also said “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28-30). If, in seeking to deny yourself and take up your cross, you finds yourself weary and heavy-laden, you have missed what it means to deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Christ.

The problem with "radical discipleship" is that it primarily emphasizes the act of being radical - radical commitment, radical use of time, radical use of possessions. But the focus of Christianity is not the act of being radical - the focus of Christianity is Christ. The word "radical" literally means "of or going to the root or origin." If Christ is the root, or center, of Christianity, then radical Christianity is a focus on Christ. If "radical discipleship" is a focus on the act of being radical, then "radical discipleship" is really "radical radicalism," and as such has nothing to do with Christianity. Christianity simply provides a context in which to be "radical."

Christianity is Christ-worship, ascribing worth to Christ. But "radical discipleship" is self-worship, ascribing worth to oneself, conditioned upon how radical one has been in the use of one's time, one's possessions, and how radically one has committed oneself to ministerial activities. But in looking to oneself, one will never find oneself worthy - there will always be more things that could have been done, things that could have been done better, and ways in which one could have been even more radical. If one focuses on how radical one is, one will never find oneself radical enough. And that will simply create more guilt. And since the solution to guilt is being radical, that will only perpetuate the process of trying to be radical for Christ. This is no different than any other system of legalism, where righteousness and acceptability before God come on the basis of performance and works.

But Christ is different. He does not say "come after you have done," but rather "come, and then do." Christ, through His active and passive obedience, has made us completely acceptable to the Father. Not only are our sins forgiven, but Christ's righteousness is imputed to us, as if we had lived the righteous life of Christ Himself. As such, we are accepted by God not on the basis of our performance, but on the basis of Christ's performance. Thus, we can rest in Christ, for Christ is our absolution - we do not absolve ourselves of guilt through the penance of good works. Rather, Christ's sacrifice makes us clean (Heb. 10:10) and cleanses our conscience - something that performing the works of the law could never do (Rom. 3:20, Heb. 10:2). By trusting in Him, whose sacrifice once for all cleanses us from all sin, we have all that we need to be forgiven, and our have our consciences cleared.

The work of Christ enables us to have rest, for no longer are we under the condemnation of the law (Rom. 8:1). Rather, we have been justified through faith, and God's verdict of righteousness can never be overturned (Rom. 8:32-39). So what does this mean for us, in practice? What it means is that when our hearts are set free and given rest from guilt and condemnation, we are free to worship and serve Christ out of love and gratitude. It is only when our hearts are at peace in Christ that we can do good works - that is, good deeds with the proper motivation. And the proper motivation is not to gain God's acceptance, but out of love and gratitude to please Him who has already accepted us. This means that the Christian is free from guilt over not measuring up to someone else's standard for what a Christian should be doing with his life. For "The spiritual person judges all things, but is himself to be judged by no one" (1 Cor. 2:15), and "None of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s" (Rom. 14:7-8). It is before Christ that each of us stands or falls (Rom. 14:4), not the pious proponent of "radical discipleship" who peddles his wares of guilt and legalism.

The Christ-centered disciple is focused on Christ in a simple and trusting manner (i.e. childlike - Mk. 10:15), seeking to know Him more fully, and follow where He leads. The self-centered "radical" disciple, on the other hand, has a morbid obsession with how "radical" he is (usually fueled by a guilt complex), and seeks to find ways to be "radical enough" to both satisfy the demands of his radical-discipleship community, and his own self-imposed standard of what Jesus expects of him as a "radical disciple." If a Christ-centered disciple is called to go overseas, he packs his bags and goes, for this is what his Lord requires. There is no pomp and circumstance, no self-congratulatory thoughts on how radical he is being for doing this. Rather, he simply sees himself as doing what His Lord has called Him to do. And more often than not, if this is what Christ has called him to do, it is what he has a heart-felt desire to do anyway. In all of this, he follows the command of Christ, who said "So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty’” (Lk. 17:10). On the other hand, the "radical disciple" goes overseas out of guilt, and a desire to measure up to the standards and expectations of "radical discipleship." He may endure hardship and persecution. He may speak strong words about the kingdom of God, and the necessity of repentance and self-denial. Yet, he is not unlike the Pharisee, to whom Christ said "You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when you have succeeded, you make them twice as much a child of hell as you are" (Matt 23:15).

Similarly, when the Christ-centered disciple is called to stay stateside and live a normal life, he does so, and serves God faithfully where he is. He does not seek to do less than what Christ requires, but at the same time, he is not concerned with doing more (such as going overseas). Like the disciple who faithfully goes overseas, the disciple who stays home is simply "doing his duty." On the other hand, the "radical disciple" who stays home feels guilty about it, for the simple reason that living a normal life is not nearly as radical as going overseas, or selling all of one's possessions, or doing something of the like. He spends his days feeling guilty about not doing enough with his life, always seeking ways to atone for his lack of radical commitment. Such a disciple makes a great church member, being there every time the door is open, participating in all of the events, and doing whatever is requested of him by the church leadership. But whether such a disciple makes a good follower of Christ is another question altogether.

The Antidote to Nominal Christianity

So, if not guilt-driven legalism, what is the solution to nominal Christianity? What is the pastor or teacher to do change the hearts of the congregation? The answer is simple: preach the Word. Proclaim the Good News. Proclaim and exalt the grace of God. Exalt Christ, and proclaim His excellencies. Feed the flock with the knowledge of God, for in this is the substance of eternal life (Jn. 17:3).

"But," the "radical" proponent might object, "how is this supposed to cure people of nominal Christianity?" Where is the pressure to get out of the easy chair and "put one's hand to the plow"? The simple answer is that such is not the emphasis of the message, for the simple reason that the motivation for good works should come ultimately from Christ, and not from men. This comes down to the difference between human wisdom and divine wisdom. Human wisdom says "put the people under a burden of guilt, for guilt is an effective motivator." Divine wisdom, on the other hand, says "Bring people to Christ, and let Christ change them, and provide them with proper motivation." Divine wisdom glorifies God because it keeps the pastor from getting the glory for the change in the hearts of the congregation. The proponent of "radical discipleship" can rightfully say "Look at what I have accomplished!" The true pastor of the flock, however, cannot take credit for whatever positive change God brings about, for he is merely the instrument though which God works to press His Word home to the hearts of His people, and effect change in them.

The cure to nominal Christianity, then, is Christianity. That is, the preaching and exposition of the whole counsel of God. In hearing and taking the Word of God to heart, one comes to know God. And in coming to know God, one develops a love for God. And in developing a love for God, one begins to do that which God would have one to do. If one loves God, obeying His commands is not a burden (1 Jn. 5:3), and if one knows God, one will listen for His voice and follow where He leads.

That is the solution, as simple as it is. Christ is the heart of Christianity. To have true Christianity, Christ must be exalted and placed at the center. The whole counsel of God must be proclaimed. If, on the other hand, "radical discipleship" is exalted and placed at the center, one will have Radicalism, not Christianity. When people focus primarily on how "radical" their walk with Christ is, they cease to follow Him, turning instead a standard of works-righteousness that they have set up for themselves.

May we see the things that are preached and taught for what they are, and never tire of contending for the "faith that was once for all delivered to the saints" (Jude 3).

Soli Deo Gloria!