Douglas J. Douma's Blog, page 19

Some Old Books

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I recently acquired a great donation of a number of books ranging in date from 1647 to 1935. These will be added to our growing collection for the library at our ministry, Sola – Appalachian Christian Retreat.

If there is some volume, however, that you are particularly interested in, let me know and I may be willing to sell and use the proceeds for the ministry.

The collection includes the following:

Attack on Everest, by Hugh Ruttledge, 1935

The Covenants and The Covenanters, by James Kerr, 1896

The Presbyterian Standards by Francis Beattie, 1896

The People’s History of Presbyterianism in All Ages, by Robert P. Kerr, 1894

Presbyterians, by Geo. P. Hays, 1892

United Presbyterianism by William J. Reid, 1881

Sabbath Day Readings, by Julia Corner, 1875

The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1874

The Scriptural Form of Church Government, by C. C. Stewart, Second Edition, 1872

Ecclesia Lutherana: A Brief Survey of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, by Joseph Seiss, 1868

Presbyterian Quar. Review, Vol. IX., 1861-62

Typology of Scripture (2 Volumes), Patrick Fairbairn, 1854

The Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan, 1853

Repentance Explained to the Understanding of The Young by Charles Walker, 1851

Sermons on Several Occasions, by John Wesley, Vol. II, 1847

Religious Letters of Samuel Rutherford, 1826

A Digest … of the General Assembly of the PCUSA, 1820

Wordsworth’s Ecclesiastical Biography (6 volumes), by Charles Wordsworth, 1818

The Speech of the Right Honourable Charles James Fox at a General Meetings of the Elects of Westminster, Assembled in Westminster-Hall, July 17, 1782

A Master-Key to Popery by D. Antonio Gavin, Third Edition, 1773

Practical Discourses on the Parable of the Ten Virgins by Benjamin Colman, 1767

A Complete History of England from the Descent of Julius Caesar to the Treaty of Aix La Chapelle, 1748 by T. Smollet, The Third Edition, Volume the Sixth, 1759

A Discourse of Angels, Their Nature and Office, or Ministry, 1701

A Discourse Upon the Form and Manner of Making, Ordaining, and Consecrating Bishops, Pirests, and Deacons, by Thomas Comber, 1699

A Discourse Concerning the Knowledge of Jesus Christ by William Sherlock, 1674

Clavis Homerica (in Latin), 1647

Review of “Fair Sunshine” by Jock Purves

Fair Sunshine, Character Studies of the Scottish Covenanters by Jock Purves, Edinburg: The Banner of Truth Trust, 1968, new edition 2003, 194 pp.

Fair Sunshine is a collection of twelves essays or chapters on various Scottish Covenanters of the 17th century. In that much of its emphasis is on the martyrdom of these Covenanters the book might easily be compared with the famous Foxe’s Book of Martyrs. Purves, a Scottish Presbyterian himself, certainly evidences a passion for the truths the Covenanters fought for, but such evident passion makes his work here less than an objective history. Some interesting events in Covenanter history are mentioned in the book, but the accounts being not chronological the book lacks much explanation of Covenanter history in general and so lacks context for the individual accounts. Despite these faults, Purves accomplishes the goal of the books subtitle in showing the character traits — bravery, steadfastness, holiness, etc. — of some of the Gospel-preaching men of old Scotland.

Review of “The Unlisted Legion” by Jock Purves

The Unlisted Legion, Part of the its witness in the Karakoram and the Khyber by Jock Purves, Edinburgh: The Banner of Truth Trust, 1977, 195 pp.

Twice recently I came across the name “Jock Purves.” First, my colleague in the Reformed Presbyterian ministry, Anthony Dallison, wrote to me that Jock Purves was a “faithful elder” in his congregation in Scotland in the 1970s and noted that together they “spoke forthrightly in the defense of the Westminster Confession of Faith” at the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland in 1974. Second, in my recent query into “Who teaches American Presbyterian history?” I found that one seminary assigns a book by Jock Purves, Fair Sunshine: Character Studies of the Scottish Covenanters.

As it turn out, Purves has written two books, the second of which is the one presently under review.

The Unlisted Legion is a very readable book in forty-three short chapters. It tells of the travels and missionary endeavors of its author in remote places around northern Pakistan and Afghanistan in years 1926-1930. I was struck by the horrendous conditions under which the missionaries labored. They dealt with lice (at times grabbing it off of their clothing by the handful), rats, and “house bugs” – a red-colored and incredibly stinky pest that would fall down on them from the ceilings of houses as they slept and bite them with the feeling of an electric shock.

Though Purves missionary travels recounted in the book seemed to me often like ill-planned wanderings, their forthrightness in presenting Christ crucified at all occasions was impressive. While the book contained various interesting episodes, it didn’t make for much of an overall story. It reminded me of another book I recently read — Demon Possession by John L. Nevius — in that it was largely a rather jumbled collection of short travelogue stories.

Review of “The Triumph of Grace in the Theology of Karl Barth” by G. C. Berkouwer

The Triumph of Grace in the Theology of Karl Barth by G. C. Berkouwer, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1956, 414 pp.

The Triumph of Grace in the Theology of Karl Barth is a very difficult book to read. In fact, having four times attempted to read it and yet without success, this review can only be a partial one. The percentage of this book which I found intelligible was low and it is certainly not a book that can be recommended but for scholarly studies into Barthian theology. For my own work—whether I’m scholarly or not others can judge—this book is of importance in showing Berkouwer’s views on Barth, something I’m interested in exploring in a long article I’m working on titled “Gordon H. Clark Among Reformed Critics of Karl Barth.”

Though Berkouwer might be considered an advocate of Barthianism by some, this book evidences not an uncritical assessment of Barth. Though Gordon Clark never reviewed this book in full, he did make one comment on it that backs this understanding. He wrote, “[Berkouwer’s] volume, The Triumph of Grace in the Theology of Karl Barth, is a triumph of scholarship.” (Religion, Reason, and Revelation, p. 234) Perhaps Berkouwer’s balanced scholarly approach—rather than Cornelius Van Til’s all-out attack of Barth—served as a model of sorts for Clark’s later work Karl Barth’s Theological Method.

Early in the book Berkouwer notes an interesting distinction in Barth’s thought between “a neutral use of philosophical conceptions” and “a use of them which involves acceptance of the ideas which they represent.” The argument is that one can use the terminology of various philosophers without necessarily accepting their positions. In critiquing Barth on this point however, Berkouwer notes, “It seems to me that in making this distinction Barth underestimates the material influence of neutral philosophical elements in theological activity.” (p. 20) To the extent that this applies to Barth’s own theology it helps support the view of Cornelius Van Til (and others) that Barth departs from the Scripture in his being too heavily influenced by the various philosophies from which he borrows much of his terminology. Yet, in what seems to be obviously false, Barth claims to have “cut himself loose once and for all from the philosophical foundation of Christian doctrine.” (p. 42)

The main contention in The Triumph of Grace in the Theology of Karl Barth is that “the theme of the triumph of grace … dominates the whole of Barth’s dogmatic thinking.” (p. 52) It is here that I believe one must be careful. If one lets a particular conception dominate their thinking it needs to be precisely Biblical or it can lead one astray. Therefore, it seems to me, any slight error in Barth’s concept of the triumph of grace will broadcast itself loudly in later errors. Is, for example, his emphasis on the triumph of grace so overdone that he ends up a universalist? (Later it will be seen that Berkouwer thinks Barth’s view result in universalism.) I contend that rather than allowing any one theme to dominate our theology we are to compare Scripture with Scripture in all its themes. Then any overemphasis (or underemphasis) on a particular theme might be corrected through an accurate use of some other theme or themes. To critique Barth’s approach, as I must do, is not to say that the role of grace or of Christ is not important to Christianity or to its interpretation. But to make “the triumph of grace” essentially the sole interpretive lens through which to read the Bible does not seem in any way superior to using some other Biblical theme, say God’s sovereignty or the work of the Holy Spirit or man’s sin. Again, rather than choosing one Biblical paradigm through which to interpret the rest, I believe we must employ them all in each their own proper relation. The best place to start with interpreting Scripture is to accept all of it. That is, to accept all of it as true, which is not a presupposition Barth would like to accept. Barth’s approach, so heavily leaning on his doctrine of Christ as to be called by some a “Christomonian” is, in my opinion, entirely imbalanced.

In each their own chapters Berkouwer shows the relation of the “triumph of grace” to creation, election, reconciliation, and eschatology. Here it seems to me Barth reads back into these various doctrines his idea of the triumph of grace and this results in a number of unorthodox conclusions. To give just one example—one that is less disastrous than some of the others and which I haven’t seen noted elsewhere—Barth believes that demons are not fallen angels and declares the Biblical passages which indicate as much to be “obscure.” (p. 80) Despite these chapters being mostly descriptive, Berkouwer does critique the apparent universalism (denied by Barth) in Barth’s theology. He writes, “There is no alternative to concluding that Barth’s refusal to accept the apokatastasis cannot be harmonized with the fundamental structure of his doctrine of election.” (p. 116) There is also somewhat of an interlude chapter on Barth’s long battle against Roman Catholicism. In this chapter I felt a little bit like I was stepping into the middle of conversation at a party with those conversing all specialists in some field I am only vaguely familiar with. The discussion here regarding analogia entis and analogia attributionis and the theologies of Barth, von Bathasar, and Quenstedt certainly seems interesting and might even been understandable if only I hadn’t come so late the party.

In a chapter on “Ambiguous Triumphs of Grace in the History of Theology” Berkouwer asks, “Is a favorable judgment over a theology which emphasizes the grace of God so centrally and consistency not a matter of course?” (p. 196), and notes that “every theology of grace must be tested on the score of its scriptural legitimacy. Simply to posit the theme of the ‘triumph of grace’ does not in itself guarantee the purity of a theology. … Every theme must be tested in terms of the question: how does it function in the whole of the theology concerned?” (p. 197) He then aptly contends that “In [Marcionism, antinomianism, perfectionism, and universalism] the triumph motif occupied a central place but, because of the total theological structure in which it was given this place, justice was not done to the grace of which the Bible speaks.” (p. 204-205) Showing the error of those four views Berkouwer notes that “a speaking about the triumph of grace and the love of God is always complex speaking.” (p. 212)

In a number of places Berkouwer finds Barth’s views not to be supported by Scripture. He finds Barth’s view of sin as an “ontological impossibility” unacceptable “because the Bible speaks in a wholly different way about the ‘reality’ of sin.” (p. 233) And notes, “We do not in the Bible gain the impression that the battle is all ‘an emptied matter’ in the sense in which Barth speaks of it.” (p. 237) Furthermore, Berkouwer speaks positively of the criticism of Barth by H. Van Oyen (p. 247) and R. Prenter (p. 250). So it is clear that Berkouwer, at least at the time of writing this book, was not a Barthian.

Review of “The Marrow Controversy and Seceder Tradition” by William Vandoodewaard

The Marrow Controversy and Seceder Tradition, Atonement, Saving Faith, and the Gospel Offer in Scotland (1718-1799) by William Vandoodewaard, Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage Books, 2011, 313 pp.

The central aim in William Vandoodewaard’s The Marrow Controversy and Seceder Tradition is to show theological continuity between the Marrowmen of the 1720s and the later Seceder ministers of the 18th century. In this I judge he has succeeded, though on another subject he touches on in the book and which I will address later in this review I have great concern.

The first part of the book (pages 9 through 110) is on the Marrow Controversy, an exceedingly complex theological discussion during the 1720s in the Church of Scotland. Here Vandoodewaard’s writing is far more accessible that David Lachman’s massive tome The Marrow Controversy.

The Marrow Controversy and Seceder Tradition impressed on me (more than my previous readings on the subject) just how complex the Marrow Controversy was. In Vandoodewaard’s explanation of some of the pertinent theological views of both proponents and opponents of Marrow (that is, the theology of the book The Marrow of Modern Divinity) it is evident that there was a variety of beliefs on the law of God, the atonement, saving faith and assurance, and the offer of the gospel among other topics. Because of the diversity of views I’m now more hesitant to say I accept the majority’s position at the time in the Church of Scotland, for the majority itself was not uniform in its beliefs on these matters.

Though not his primary objective, it appears to me that Vandoodewaard supports the minority view of the Marrowmen on the doctrine of the Free Offer of the Gospel and thus joins the ranks of his fellow Associate Reformed Presbyterian minister Sinclair Ferguson (The Whole Christ), as well as John Piper (Does God Desire All to be Saved?), and John Murray and Ned Stonehouse (The Free Offer of the Gospel) in promoting the view known as the well-meant offer of the gospel (WMO) that God desires the salvation of all men.

It is with this doctrine that I have serious disagreement and concern. And while it is probably unfair to spend the majority of this review upon the topic, I believe the error sufficiently dangerous that it must be noted and opposed.

Of this doctrine Vandoodewaard writes, “In applying the biblical warrant to ‘go and preach the gospel to every creature under heaven,’ the author of The Marrow expounded, ‘That is, go and tell every man without exception, that here is good news for him, Christ is dead for him, and if he will take him and accept of his righteousness, he shall have it.'” p. 11.

It is my contention that this is not applying but mis-applying the doctrine. That is, it is not a legitimate deduction from “the Gospel is to be preached to all” to conclude that “God desires the salvation of all” nor certainly to the unlimited atonement view that “Christ is dead for him”; all men. (And this is not to mention the fact that “Christ is dead” is an heretical statement.)

Sadly, this error has become the view of the majority in Reformed circles today. But while David Engelsma’s masterpiece Hyper-Calvinism and the Call of the Gospel brilliantly dispatches with the arguments of the supporters of the WMO, you probably won’t find this book at a Ligonier conference or at Greenville Presbyterian Theological Seminary. Rather it is Ferguson’s The Whole Christ and to a lesser extent Vandoodewaard’s The Marrow Controversy and Seceder Tradition that are promoted.

While the WMO view of the Marrowmen was the majority position in the Christian Reformed Church ever since their 1924 Synod of Kalamazoo, in recently years CRC theologian John Bolt has taken the opposite position with his essay “Herman Hoeksema was Right.” In my opinion, Ferguson, Vandoodewaard, or another proponent of the WMO should try respond to Bolt’s essay. I would hope that in the process they realize their errors.

Of central importance, Bolt argues that the proponents of the WMO “usually fail to distinguish carefully between ‘call’ and ‘offer,’ and in so doing accept the Remonstrant definition of call as God’s desire and intention to save those who receive the call.” (p. 302) I made essentially the same arguments as Bolt, though not as eloquently, in a footnote on page 118 of The Presbyterian Philosopher. Bolt’s argument is that a clear distinction must be made between the doctrine of the General Call of the Gospel to preach to all men indiscriminately and the (erroneous) doctrine of the Free Offer of the Gospel (FOG) or Well-Meant Offer (WMO) that God desires each and every person’s salvation.

While perhaps, as Vandoodewaard notes, some of the theologians in the Church of Scotland during the Marrow Controversy did not sufficiently hold to the former (the General Call), it is clear that this doctrine is held by Hoeksema, Clark, Gerstner, Engelsma, and Bolt. And so while there might have been a hyper-Calvinist or two in the early 18th century, these defenders of Calvinism in more recent times are not hyper.

The acceptance of the well-meant offer is one of the greatest weaknesses in modern Reformed theology because it ruins an otherwise systematic faith. It is a doctrine that fits with Arminianism, Amyraldianism, and Universalism, but it does not fit with the system of Calvinism and its doctrine of particular redemption. Though a valuable book for its presentation of the history, without a warning against the well-meant offer doctrine of the Marrowmen (and in fact even an acceptance of it!) I cannot recommend The Marrow Controversy and Seceder Tradition as a doctrinally sound volume.

Review of “The Man Who Moved a Mountain” by Richard C. Davids

The Man Who Moved a Mountain by Richard C. Davids, Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1970, 253 pp.

The Man Who Moved a Mountain is the story of Bob Childress, an over-the-top Bill Brasky-like figure who—with a heart for his Virginia mountain people and a love the Bible—swore off alcohol and decided to become a minister. At the age of thirty and relatively uneducated, Childress had a long path set out before him. Not only did he need to finish high school, college, and seminary, he had not yet even been baptized! Through the work of a Presbyterian minister, Roy Smith, Childress found his denominational home, was baptized along with his (second) wife and children, and began his studies. Reading at night and attending school in the day, he quickly passed through high school and was accepted at Davidson College.

With only one year of high school and one year of college Childress with his wife and five children and without any money sought entrance to Richmond Virginia’s Union Theological Seminary. When they would not relax their standards to admit him, he borrowed money from his brother, rented a house nearby, and got special permission to sit in on classes.

Finally the mountain-accented Childress caught a break when first a cash donation came his way from a church lady and then, after making “a high record in every class” the Seminary gave him a scholarship as well as housing on campus.

After graduating from seminary Childress heads back to the mountains, to Buffalo Mountain, perhaps the most shoot-em-up place around. Slowly gaining the confidence of the people there Childress’ mission grew to establishing schools, starting a sawmill, and eventually building churches.

Though the book was certainly interesting from a historical perspective and comical at times, it was on page 79 that I suddenly realized that it was too hagiographic for my tastes. There it is noted that Childress admired the (socialist) President Woodrow Wilson. It was not so much that the book maximizes Childress, but that there is a real paucity of the Biblical religion in it.  Much like the stories of Peter Marshall or Bill Hill, this book evidences a doctrinally weaker side of the Presbyterian church. This is evidenced in, for example, Childress’ use of the un-Presbyterian practice of altar calls, and an over-reaction to Hardshell Baptist views in his denying the foreordination of all things (p. 113). Childress’ work seemed to be more focused on the social gospel than the actual gospel. A major goal was starting schools in the mountains. Another was the reduction of violence, particularly drinking and gunfighting. Yet another, building roads and bridges (p. 124, 130). Childress said to one man, “We can work together to make this place a better one to live in.” (p. 102) And, it was noted, “Bob told the people of Buffalo Mountain that they were ignorant, silly fools who needed the grace of God to civilize them.” (p. 120) And again, “Bob knew he couldn’t change the Buffalo overnight. There were too many things to tackle all at the same time. So he preached and talked about killing and drinking and stilling every chance he got, just as he did about roads.” (p. 137)

One might come away from reading this book thinking that the Gospel was such civilizing itself. If Childress was in fact also interested in preaching the genuine Gospel then perhaps it is the author Davids who overlooked that in favor of telling a story of one man’s grandeur, not God’s.

An Introduction to the Life and Work of Gordon H. Clark

An Introduction to the Life and Work of Gordon H. Clark

by Douglas J. Douma

A speech given at Covenant College, April 6, 2018.

Imagine you are a student at Covenant College on summer break in 1973 and you hear a rumor, “Dr. Gordon H. Clark is coming to teach here next year.” For those of you here who are Covenant College students it should not be too hard to imagine that you are a Covenant College student. (You philosophers might call this the law of identity) But you will have to go back to 1973 when the college was not yet part of the PCA (the Presbyterian Church in America) but belonged to one of the PCA’s precursor bodies, the RPCES (the Reformed Presbyterian Church, Evangelical Synod). The college was surely smaller than it is today, yet similar in its Presbyterian tradition.

For many students at the time this was an exciting rumor to hear. And, after the rumor turned out to be true and Dr. Clark did join the faculty at Covenant College, the interest in his courses was considerable. In fact, some students would transfer here from other colleges just to take his courses.

Why though was Dr. Clark’s coming to teach at Covenant College of interest? A semi-retired man of seventy-one years of age coming to teach philosophy of all subjects. Why was this noteworthy? And why are we still talking about him and his philosophy decades later?

Though there might have been a considerable number of reasons why his coming to Covenant College was of interest, I will focus on three main ones and in the process I hope that I might adequately introduce to you the life and work of Dr. Gordon H. Clark.

The three reasons I will discuss are as follows:

I. He was one of the most notable Christian thinkers of his era.

II. He was a witness to many of the major events of 20th century American Presbyterian history.

III. He was a endearingly unusual individual.

And so it might have been one or more of these reasons why the rumor of his coming to Covenant College was of interest.

Now, I would like to pause for a moment to comment about this year, 1973. All records that I’ve found say that Gordon Clark started at Covenant College in 1973. Despite the records, I can’t seem to figure out how it is possible that he taught in 1973. According to his personal letters he spent a full month in October and November of 1973 teaching at Geneva College in Pennsylvania upon the invite of the retired philosophy professor Johannes Vos. I believe that Dr. Clark probably started at Covenant College in the Winter of 1974, but one might call that the 1973-1974 school year.

But let us return to the subject at hand.

Our first point:

I. He was one of the most notable Christian thinkers of his era.

In The Presbyterian Philosopher, the biography I wrote of Dr. Clark, I attributed the formation of Clark’s mindset to be principally of two factors: his upbringing under a father who was an Old-School Presbyterian minister, and his training in philosophy at the University of Pennsylvania where he earned his Ph.D in 1929. It is important to note that Christians do not often earn doctorate degrees in philosophy at secular universities. They do not often do so today and they certainly did not often do so in the year Dr. Clark graduated. A similar point was made in a letter Dr. Clark received from his friend and theological hero J. Gresham Machen in 1934. Machen wrote, “We can certainly be thankful for a man like you, who is not a minister and is even a university professor, and yet is not ashamed to be called a Christian!”

It might be said that for Clark, though not without a critical eye, Presbyterianism beat out secular philosophy as his worldview. Though he rejected the Scottish Common Sense Realism philosophy of his Presbyterian forebears, including his own father, he became even more convinced of the futility of non-Christian philosophies in establishing any knowledge whatsoever.

But this certainly did not mean that Clark eschewed secular philosophy or had no use for it. He, in fact, published two books on the history of philosophy, first as a contributor to A History of Philosophy in 1941 and then his own book Thales to Dewey in 1957. He also wrote a number of articles on the philosophy of Plotinus, and once during a low point in his career as a Christian academic thought that he might continue his work there and become, in his own words, “a mediocre Plotinian.”

By the time Dr. Clark came to Covenant College in 1973 (or be it 1974) he had, by my count, published 22 books. By the year of his death (1985) his output had swelled to include 38 published books. And another 14 or so so were published posthumously. In addition to his published books, he wrote at least 351 articles for various publications. His output, Carl Henry once wrote, was “A wide and deep swath.” He wrote on ethics, Christian education, the philosophy of science, the philosophy of language, logic, and historiography, and on Christian doctrinal questions including predestination, the Trinity, faith, sanctification, the atonement, and various others.

Throughout all of this Clark stood for the vow he had made to the Westminster Confession of Faith in his ordination first as a ruling elder in the mainline Presbyterian church in the 1920s and then as a teaching elder in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church in 1944.

Clark’s philosophy—alternately known as presuppositionalism, dogmatism, or Scripturalism—was, above all else, guided by the understanding of the Christian religion as outlined in the Westminster Confession of Faith.

If then, his philosophy was grounded in the historic confession of the Presbyterian Church, for what reason was his work particularly notable?

That is a difficult question to answer because he made contributions areas including the relationship of divine sovereignty to human responsibility, the inerrancy of the Scriptures, lapsarianism, and the problem of evil.

But above all else, what drew me first to Dr. Clark’s work and what continues to do so is his epistemology, his theory of knowledge.

And so for the necessary brevity that a speech such as this requires I will limit my explanation of Dr. Clark’s philosophy to a brief overview of his epistemology.

The best source for his views on epistemology is his 1965 Wheaton Lectures first published in his festschrift in 1968. There he explains the importance of foundational axioms in philosophy. That is, you have to start somewhere if you’re going to start. The argument is that all philosophies start with some assumed starting point or axiom. Empiricism starts with the validity of sensory perception, rationalism starts with pure logic, and Christianity starts with the truth of the Bible. And so when non-Christians complain that we start with an unproven assumption—the truth of the Bible—it is a problem they equally share, for every philosophy must start with some unproven assumption.

But, from each axiom a philosophical system is built. And, Clark thought, by comparing the various systems based on their logical consistency and explanatory power we can judge which is superior.

To prove an axiom would be to assume a prior axiom which would then itself need to be proven. The only way to avoid such an infinite regress is to understand that the initial axiom is not proven but assumed.

And so Clark writes,

“Axioms, whatever they may be and in whatever subject they are used, are never deduced from more original principles. They are always tested in another way. If a philosopher ponders the basic principles of Aristotle, Kant, or even Sartre, he will do so by considering how well the author succeeds in solving his problems. … So too it should be with Christian Revelation as an axiom. We must ask, Does revelation make knowledge possible? Does revelation establish values and ethical norms? Does revelation give a theory of politics? And are all these results consistent with one other? We can judge the acceptability of an axiom only by its success in producing a system. Axioms, because they are axioms, cannot be deduced from or proved by previous theorems.” (Gordon H. Clark, An Introduction to Christian Philosophy, p. 59-60)

Clark’s life work then is to show the inconsistency of various non-Christian philosophies and the consistency and explanatory power of Christianity.

This is not a feat that he believed could be done with a single argument, like those who employ the so-called Transcendental Argument for the Existence of God. Rather, Clark held, the various philosophies must be addressed each in their own right and proven false. While Clark could certainly not write against each and every philosophy mankind has ever devised, he did write against the main contenders. And by showing them false through their own logical contradictions and weak in their inability to answer the important questions of philosophy, he opens the door for a consideration of the Christian faith which he argues is consistent, is logical, and answers many of our most profound questions about God, about men, and about the things of this world.

When I first came across Clark’s writings I was struck by the immensity of this idea, of starting with, of assuming the truth of the Bible. This, I found, is something much greater than the so-called Reformed Epistemology of Alvin Plantinga and others. Plantinga’s work establishes that it is not irrational to be a Christian. Not irrational! That wasn’t good enough for me. That isn’t good enough for me. I want to know the truth. Seeking for truth I kept coming back to a phrase I had memorized in the Dutch language “De vreze des Heren is het begin der kennis.” (“the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge.” – Proverbs 1:7) And this is certainly a true phrase. But the proper fear of the Lord should lead one to distinguish God’s word from Satan’s lies. And so having a fear of the Lord is to believe in the truth of His Word, the Bible. And so from the propositions of the Bible and those propositions which can be logically deduced from the Bible considerable knowledge from God is available to man.

While this is an entirely too-short account of Clark’s epistemology I shall leave it there so that we can move on to our second of the three points.

II. He was a witness to many of the major events of 20th century American Presbyterian history.

When I started writing on Gordon Clark it was not for a biography at all but for a summary of his philosophy. It was not long however until I realized the importance of understanding the historical context of his philosophical work. And so the biography project began to make sense of the history. For some Covenant College students in 1973 it very well could have been the history rather than the philosophy that intrigued them when they heard of Dr. Clark’s coming to teach.

I’ve noted in the introduction of The Presbyterian Philosopher that Gordon Clark was directly involved in most of the major American Presbyterian denominational separations and mergers of his era.

To give a brief overview of Clark’s history prior to coming to Covenant College it is important to note first that he was the son of a Presbyterian minister who was himself the son of a Presbyterian minister. Clark grew up in Philadelphia and came to faith at age thirteen at a rally of the popular evangelist of the time and former major league baseball player Billy Sunday. In college he first studied French for his undergraduate degree and then Philosophy for his Ph.D. In the meantime he joined the cause of the Fundamentalists and looked up to J. Gresham Machen more than anyone else except maybe his dissertation advisor William Romaine Newbold. Clark and his father, a minister of a church in Philadelphia for forty years, was closely acquainted with Machen who led the Fundamentalist movement among the Presbyterians. Clark wrote to and received letters from Machen and met with him on various occasions.

But as a Christian teaching in the philosophy department at his Alma Mater, the University of Pennsylvania, he found opposition to his views in some administrators who prevented him ever rising from the rank of instructor to assistant professor.

And so in 1936 Clark took a position as a visiting professor at Wheaton College and the next year accepted a full time position there as an associate professor.

Though Machen had died young in 1937, the denomination of Fundamentalists that he had created continued forward. With the president of Wheaton College, J. Oliver Buswell, also involved in the movement Clark found an adversary and friend. He would then have some good and then some bad years at Wheaton. The good years were the first three while Buswell remained president. But when Buswell was fired in 1940 Clark found more outspoken opposition to his strongly Calvinistic views.

Yet while at Wheaton there was an almost uniquely gifted set of future Christian leaders who would study under Dr. Clark. Carl Henry, Edmund Clowney, Harold Lindsell, Paul Jewett, E. J. Carnell and others considered Clark their greatest influence as a professor. The late Billy Graham also took at least one class with Dr. Clark, but that did not go quite as well.

According to one student in the class (Samuel Faircloth) later interviewed for the Wheaton College archives, Billy Graham one day stood up in the back of the class and looked Clark right in the eye. Then he pointed his finger at Clark and said “Doc, you’re cold.” Clark, in his characteristically logical—almost Spock-like way—retorted “I prefer to remain cold.”

While “cold” meant something like “lacking evangelistic passion” for Billy Graham, it had connotations of level-headed consideration for a philosopher like Clark.

Nevertheless, Clark was forced to resign in 1943 when the complaints of the Head of the Bible and Philosophy Department, Henry C. Thiessen convinced the board of trustees of the danger of Dr. Clark’s views.

And so, considering his career direction in 1944 Clark applied for ordination in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. But there too he would find opposition, and from a somewhat surprising source – the philosophically minded professors at Westminster Theological Seminary.

The next four years have been called in history “the Clark – Van Til controversy.” And it was four unfortunate years of internal struggle in the church distracting Fundamentalist Presbyterians from many of their major goals.

The controversy ended with Dr. Clark’s ordination being upheld at both levels of the church courts – presbytery and General Assembly. Ultimately it was said that the challenges brought up against Dr. Clark’s ordination set a standare more precise than did the confession.

But disappointed in the direction of the denomination Clark took a job teaching philosophy at Butler University in Indianapolis and transferred his credentials to the United Presbyterian Church.

Surprisingly it was there at Butler—for 28 years—not in a Christian college but in a secular university that Clark found his greatest independence. While his job as professor and head of the philosophy department was a stabilizing force in his life, the church struggles continued. The United Presbyterian agreed to a merger with the liberal church and so Dr. Clark led his congregation, of which he was then pastor on the side to his professor job, out of the denomination. They joined the small Reformed Presbyterian Church General Synod (RPCGS) which became the Reformed Presbyterian Church Evangelical Synod (RPCES) in 1965. At that time Clark was back in a denomination with J. Oliver Buswell and also another noted Christian thinker, Francis Schaeffer.

And so when Clark came to Covenant College in 1973 he had already been in five denominations and had been through many church struggles, including the one with his name in it.

Something else should perhaps be noted about his coming to Covenant College. He been forced to retire at Butler University because of their age restriction. But he was not done teaching, nor done thinking. He would come to Covenant and teach for ten years, spending the summers teaching at Sangre de Cristo Seminary in Colorado, and continuing to write books until his dying days.

Well, for other students maybe neither philosophy nor history was particularly interesting. But they would later find out that Dr. Clark himself was an endearingly unusual man.

III. He was a endearingly unusual individual.

To give you some indication of Dr. Clark as a person, he compartmentalized his food, eating one item fully before moving on to the next; he knew more of his neighbors’ dogs name than his neighbors’ names, he loved chess, chocolate, and scrapple (a pork, cornmeal, and spice dish popular in Pennsylvania).

He explained of himself in a letter to Nick Barker at Covenant College, “Outside professional philosophy I write terrible poems, paint worse pictures, and play mediocre chess.” Truthfully, it seems he was quite good at chess, even once winning his chess club’s tournament in Indianapolis.

About Dr. Clark in the classroom, one student commented, “When he taught Augustine, or Aquinas, or Spinoza, he was for a time the living incarnation of each thinker, defending a given philosopher’s affirmations against all counterattack, and driving us to formulate our criticisms ever more lucidly and logically.”

Dr. Clark had a great sense of humor and regularly made jokes in his lectures. One of my favorite of his jokes is appropriate for our philosophical audience here today. Following a lecture in which Dr. Clark explained Zeno’s Paradox, a sort of tortoise and hare situation meant prove that motion is in fact impossible, Clark spoke about his publisher saying that his book had not yet been published because the publisher “is the slowest person on earth” and that “he would have pleased Zeno the Eleatic with his exhibition of no motion.”

My favorite recollections of Dr. Clark, however, are from Covenant’s own art teacher Ed Kellogg.

Kellogg recalled, “Clark was so muscle-bound in his left hemisphere and atrophied in his right hemisphere; my impression was that artwork really frustrated him, that he couldn’t master it, that he couldn’t rationally figure out what the issues were here.”

Dr. Clark would regularly invite students to his home to discuss philosophy. There is a picture of such a scene at Wheaton College in circa 1940 that is included in The Presbyterian Philosopher. Recently, I spoke with one of Dr. Clark’s former students from the Butler University years. And I asked him, did you ever get invited to Dr. Clark’s house to talk philosophy. And he said, “No, some students in our class did go over to Dr. Clark’s house – 345 Buckingham Dr. But they didn’t talk philosophy. Rather, Dr. Clark pulled out his slide projector and showed them his pictures of the American Southwest, the place he most had a love affair with. Perhaps his favorite place was Boquillas Canyon in Big Bend National Park.

Mrs. Ruth Clark, Dr. Clark’s wife, was a botanist by training with a master’s degree in 1932 from the University of Pennsylvania. In fact, one lady I interviewed remembered Ruth Clark all the way back to about 1940. She recalled Ruth speaking French and someone saying, “She is so smart she could be president.” which prior to the recent presidents was a position which retained some dignity and much honor.

Well, Dr. Clark would spend much of his summers out in the American Southwest, and do landscape drawings and paintings of what he saw there. He was an artist in the sense that he did art, never in the sense that someone would pay for his art. Well, when he’d return from these trips in the Fall he’d show his artwork to Dr. Kellogg.

Dr. Kellogg recalled, “Clark had gotten a book on the perfect ideal composition in art. He came into my office once before class and almost slapped this book down on my desk and said, ‘According to this book, this is a perfect composition.’ He knew that the drawing or painting was just terrible, and it was. He knew it, and was very frustrated that he couldn’t approach it and do something that came so easy to him with his left-hemisphere approach.”

For those who are listening to this speech and have already read the biography, I want to note a few things that I’ve found since it was published. It is interesting how research goes. Once you get something published THEN people want to tell you more! And you might respond, “Where were you during my research!”

But anyway, I recently spoke with the son of one of Dr. Clark’s old Wheaton students. The student was Charles Svendsen, the son is John Svendsen. John explained that Charles had attended Wheaton College and lived for a time at Dr. Clark’s house. Having had a deaf father who was not an academic nor a reformed Christian, Charles found Clark to be a father figure of sorts for him. He fell in with the philosophy students including Paul Jewett and E. J. Carnell and followed them to Westminster Seminary after they all graduated from Wheaton. John said “Dad [Charles] would regale us with his stories of Clark. One time, Clark had come out to California and dad took him to Disneyland. And dad said ‘Don’t you want to hang out with [Paul] Jewett and [Edward] Carnell?’ And dad was serving a church ten miles from Fuller [Seminary]. Clark said, ‘No, no, they’ll just ask me a lot of questions and I want to have a good time.”

I might also note that since the publication of the biography we have also published a collection of Dr. Clark’s selected letters titled “Clark and His Correspondents.” It is a “best of” collection including letters with J. Gresham Machen, Cornelius Van Til, J. Oliver Buswell, Carl F. H. Henry, and many others.

Before I set out to write Dr. Clark’s biography, I had in my mind the idea of writing a summary of his thought. I even had a title chosen – The Ocotillo is not a Cactus. And so I thought I might end this speech where I started off on my work on Gordon Clark – thinking about cacti. And so here is a story of Dr. Clark’s, recorded on an audio lecture. It shows you something of his philosophy – the importance of definitions. It shows you also his passions – the American Southwest. And it should challenge you to think about what you know and what you don’t know.

This is from 1981 when Dr. Clark spoke at Gordon-Conwell seminary.

“You know out west in Arizona, in Southern Arizona, in the deserts there are cacti and at this time of year or within a few weeks now the desert will not merely blossom like the rose it will much out do the rose. Therefore, cacti flowers are far more beautiful than any roses are and they are simply gorgeous. If you go out there at the proper time you will see a plant that goes about twelve to fifteen to twenty-feet tall, it’s name is the ocotillo and it has beautiful red blooms on it.

Well one day I went into a ranger station and looked at the exhibits there and in one of the rooms on the wall there was a painting an oil painting of an ocotillo and of course there were ocotillo growing outside and underneath amongst some other little bit of information on a placard it says the ocotillo is not a cactus. There is something an easterner wouldn’t guess you know, because the ocotillo has thorns you better be careful about touching it and to the unaided eye it looks very much like the other cacti. As I went to the ranger desk and there was a man there I said, “You have a picture in the other room there, a nice painting of a ocotillo and underneath it says it is not a cactus.” He said, “Oh, yes that is right; ocotillois not a cactus.” I said, “Would you please tell me what is a cactus?” He looked at me, “Nobody has ever asked me that question before.” Guess not many philosophers got there. He says, “I don’t know. But the head ranger is coming back in just a few minutes. If you can wait why, we’ll ask him.” I said, “Why, yes i’m not in any hurry and very beautiful and I just enjoy the view and all.” Well the main ranger did come back and so I said “would you kindly tell me sir, what is a cactus?” He said, “I don’t know, but I will look it up for you.” And so he got out some of these books and then he gave me a pretty fair statement of what cactus is. I later found a better statement than the one. But, he made a try.

So you have to define your terms you know. And in particular when you are doing apologetics you have to understand botany and know what a cactus is as oppose to an ocotillo which isn’t a cactus. I wish you can all go to Arizona this summer and see some ocotillos and some cacti. Uh let’s see. You might even, you might even, get so disgusted with this course that you might leave early and get there in the middle of May. And I think you might find more blooms in the middle of May than – you’ll still find some around the first of June. But, early May and middle of May is the best time to visit Arizona and pull this joke on the rangers because they don’t know what cacti are.”

And so perhaps more than anything, I’ve learned from Dr. Clark the importance of definitions. As he would say, “If you don’t define your terms you literally don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Audio of the Panel Discussion at the 2018 Gordon H. Clark Philosophy Symposium

https://www.sermonaudio.com/sermoninfo.asp?SID=47182010432

Thanks to Rev. Dr. Charles Roberts of Reedy River Presbyterian Church for uploading this audio of the panel discussion from this morning (4/7/2018) at the Gordon H. Clark Philosophy Symposium.

The panel consisted of myself, Dr. Bill Davis, and Dr. Bill Higgins and was moderated by Dr. John Wingard.

I failed to record audio of my speech on “An Introduction to The Life and Work of Gordon H. Clark” but there was a video camera recording it. So hopefully Covenant College will post that.

For the historical record, I wanted to note some of the people who attended the conference and had connections with Dr. Gordon H. Clark. There was his daughter Betsy George, her husband Wyatt George, their son Nathan Clark George, and Nathan’s son Jonathan. Former Clark students in attendance included Lenard Lewis, Bill Higgins, and Bill Davis. Also in attendance were David Hawley, Ed Kellogg, Henry Krabbendam, Tom Juodaitis, Steve Matthews, and David Reiter. There were also a couple dozen philosophy students from Covenant College and other schools in the region.

And thanks to Dr. Bob Case for his donation making the conference possible.

Review of “Demon Possession” by John L. Nevius

Demon Possession, John L. Nevius, Fleming H. Revell Company, 1894, 8th edition Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 1968. 367 pp.

John L. Nevius, a Christian missionary whose writing is of a cultured and educated style, begins his book on Demon Possession by noting:

“I brought with me to China [in 1854] a strong conviction that a belief in demons, and communications with spiritual beings, belongs exclusively to a barbarous and superstitious age.” p. 9.

The first three chapters then are stories of alleged demon possession told to Nevius by Chinese Christians; not stories that he was an eyewitness to.

Nevius then tells of his writing to other Protestant missionaries on the topic of demon possession, asking them about the particular symptoms they’ve encountered and what methods (both traditional Chinese and Christian) have been tried in exorcism. He records some of their many responses in chapters four, five, and six. Even these reports, however, are not first-hand eyewitness stories, but passed on with all the problems of a game of “telephone.”

I found it interesting that in many of the alleged cases of demon possession it is said the demons asked to be worshipped before they would depart. This request was often fulfilled as people were desperate to rid their family member of the evil spirit. Also of interest is that Christianity often benefitted as stories of its success in exorcizing demons spread. And, just like in the Bible stories, the demon-possesed in China were often said to have been chained up (chained to a tree in one case) to prevent them from hurting others.

Chapter seven, titled “other communications from various sources in China” includes a clipping from a Christian publication in China in 1880 on “A Chinese demon-possessed woman becoming a Bible-woman.” Chapters eight and nine then note cases of alleged demon-possessions in other countries.

That cases of alleged demon-possession predominated in rural areas, among the poor, and often with (hysterical) women and that these stories are usually third-hand does not bode well for the legitimacy of the events. But, of course, such things do not rule out the legitimacy of the events either. Also suspect is that such events rarely occur in Christian nations. But, Nevius notes of alleged cases of demon possession there, “though rare they are not wholly wanting” (p. 111) and he provides examples. Terrifying dialogue is noted of one case in Germany. This is worth quoting at length:

Another time when he invoked the name of Jesus the patient shivered, and a voice proceeded from her entirely different from her own, which was recognized by those in the room as that of the aforesaid widow [who had died], saying: ‘That name I cannot bear.’ Blumhardt questioned the spirit as follows: ‘Have you no rest in the grave?’ It answered: ‘No.’ ‘Why?’ ‘On account of my evil deeds.’ ‘Did you not confess all to me when you died.’ ‘No, I murdered two children, and buried them secretly.’ ‘Can you not pray to Jesus?’ ‘No; I cannot bear that name.’ ‘Are you alone?’ ‘No.’ ‘Who is with you?’ ‘The worst of all.’ (p. 114)

After giving some reason as to why these reports are genuine (in chapter ten), Nevius proceeds on to various theories (secular and Christian) of explaining the occurences in chapters eleven through fourteen. He believes that the Bible, taken in its “ordinary literal sense” represents actual occurrences of demon possession in Judea in the 1st century. (Earlier in the book he also notes some of the Ante-Nicene father’s comments on demon possession in the 2nd and 3rd centuries.) In showing many similarities between the stories of the Bible and those coming out of his time in China, Nevius makes the case that if the former are legitimate occurrences of demon possession, then the latter might be as well.

He writes,

“It was my hope when I began to investigate the subject of so-called ‘demon-possession’ that the Scriptures and modern science would furnish the means of showing to the Chinese, that these phenomena need not be referred to demons. The result has been quite the contrary.” (p. 262)

Ultimately I found this book to be quite dated, not particularly persuasive, and a bit boring in its later chapters. But it certainly would make for interesting conversation.

Review of “Letters of Francis A. Schaeffer”

Letters of Francis A. Schaeffer, ed. Lane T. Dennis, Westchester, IL: Crossway, 1985, 264 pp.

In the about the year 2009 I met a man at my church who was a philosophy professor at the University of Texas. Interested in his course on “Christian Philosophy” I asked him for  a copy of his syllabus. Receiving the syllabus, I found that it included Francis Schaeffer’s He Is There and He is Not Silent. (as well as Alvin Plantinga’s God, Freedom, and Evil). In the following years I read a number of Schaeffer’s books and ultimately visited his L’Abri Fellowship for two months in 2016.

I was much impressed with Schaeffer’s writings when I first began reading them. But while I found that he had some interesting insights I also came to believe that he was a bit sloppy in his thinking. In particular I am thinking of Schaeffer’s term “the mannishness of man.” This, for Schaeffer, was an appeal to the “brute factuality” (to use a term of his former professor Cornelius Van Til) of man’s nature. For Schaeffer the nature of man (as a rational being created by God) it seems was somehow obvious. But such an appeal is not much of an argument for the Christian worldview. A person in another culture (say Buddhist or Australian Aborigine) might equally find it obvious that man is of some completely other nature. And so we are left with the childish back-and-forth arguments of “no” and “yes.”

From about 2012 to 2016 I worked on researching and writing The Presbyterian Philosopher, The Authorized Biography of Gordon H. Clark. In that time I came to learn more about the history of the presbyterian church and of Francis Schaeffer’s involvement in the Bible Presbyterian Church. Schaeffer had studied at Westminster Theological Seminary with Van Til (and others) but left after his first year to attend the new Faith Theological Seminary with the BPC. He was their first graduate and their first ordained minister.

In my visit to L’Abri in 2016 I was shocked to find the state of Schaeffer’s ministry. There was no Presbyterianism there. The staff was all explicitly Arminian. There was little church attendance (Granted English-speaking churches are not plentiful in Switzerland), and it seemed to me that while officially opposed to post-modernism the leaders of L’Abri were greatly influenced by it (and perhaps oblivious to the fact). The greatest efforts were made to let the more fundamentalist Christians know that their views were “their interpretation.” Unbelievers were rarely challenged to consider the superiority (and exclusive truth I might add) of the Christian worldview.

Some of my conclusions on Schaeffer were written in this post: https://douglasdouma.wordpress.com/2016/05/27/francis-schaeffer-pseudo-calvinist/

Now I’ve turned to reading the Letters of Francis A. Schaeffer in hopes to understand more of the man and the history of his ministry with an eye to the ways in which its setup might have allowed it to go so wrong.

Though I came into reading this book with some cynicism, I must say that I was greatly moved by Schaeffer’s writing. Something similar to what was happening to him in the 1950s has been happening to me in the recent year or so. That is, I’ve been finding interest in the importance of the doctrine of Sanctification, and more greatly realizing that in emphasizing sanctification one can avoid legalism / works righteousness.

For those who are hoping to understand the history more exactly, Letters of Francis A. Schaeffer might be a disappointment. Since the “names are changed to protect the innocent” some of the letters’ historical value has been lost. Yet other valuable pieces of historical information remain. Of interest to me was in seeing that Schaeffer disconnected himself from the separationist movement in about 1955. That is when he left the Independent Board for Fundamentalist Missions. Schaeffer explains in his letters that while he continues to agree with the doctrine of the separationists, he believes that they lack charity with other Christians. Considering the types like Carl McIntire in the movement, it is hard to blame Schaeffer. But there is a certain irony in separating from the separationists. Nevertheless, I wonder if Schaeffer retained his ordination within the Bible Presbyterian Church because I know in the later history that he is involved with the denominations it merged into — the Reformed Presbyterian Church, Evangelical Synod and the Presbyterian Church in America.

Something must be said about the introduction to this book by its editor Lane T. Dennis. Dennis, it is clear, is a supporter of Schaeffer. His ill-defined use of the term “spiritual reality” in the introduction and for section titles reminded me of Schaeffer’s use of the phrase “mannishness of man.” But while in one letter Schaeffer uses the term “spiritual reality” once, Dennis uses it twenty-four times in the introduction alone! Nowhere, however, is it clear what Dennis hopes to convey by the term. It sounds nice, and the readers will certainly like it. (Who could oppose “spiritual reality”?) But will the readers all have in mind the same idea?

But, getting back to the topic of sanctification, I found much of interest on that topic in Schaeffer’s letters. He writes for one, “It seems to me indeed that we have put so much emphasis on justification that we forget that as God’s people we are called unto holiness.” (p. 88) And, “More and more it seems to me that there is no such thing as an abstract Christian dogma—that each Christian dogma can be experienced on some level.” (p. 76). And again, “Doctrinal rightness and rightness of ecclesiastical position are important, but only as a starting point to go on into a living relationship—and not as ends in themselves.” (p. 46). In all this reading I thought that Schaeffer would be appalled to see the aggressive online “apologists” for the Christian faith today.

Though there are some questionable (or just sloppy) doctrinal statements in Schaeffer’s letters there is also much to be appreciated. Many of the letters are Schaeffer’s responses to cries for help from former L’Abri students who were dealing with various spiritual issues back in their home lives. Schaeffer’s patience in writing them and his emphasis on Biblical answers is refreshing. The extent to which he cared for his friends is plainly evident. In putting Christianity into practice there are few equals to Francis Schaeffer.