Salvation Through Reason: Did Thomas Teach It?

Salvation Through Reason: Did Thomas Teach It?

In 2016, I took an introduction to philosophy course at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. It was a Master’s-level course, because at the time I was on track for an MDiv (that is, before I changed degree programs). At that time, it was being confidently asserted by faculty that Thomas Aquinas believed man could reason his way into God’s saving graces. Allegedly, Thomas believed that if a man was sharp enough to do so, he could hypothetically reason his way into the gospel, so to speak. I am not altogether certain where this characterization came from. Reading the first few pages of Thomas’ Summa Theologiae would give one an entirely different impression.

This post is a brief reader consisting of Thomas’ own words concerning the necessity of special revelation within the scheme of man’s redemption. Contrary to the caricature mentioned above, Thomas quite expressly believed Scripture is the principium of saving knowledge. Here are the relevant texts, complete with references.

Summa Theologiae

On the contrary, It is written (2 Tim 3:16): All Scripture inspired by God is useful for teaching, for reproving, for correcting, and for instructing in justice. Now Scripture, inspired by God, is no part of the philosophical disciplines, which were discovered by human reason. Therefore it is useful that besides the philosophical disciplines, there should be another science inspired by God. I answer that, It was necessary for man’s salvation that there should be a teaching revealed by God beyond the philosophical disciplines, which are investigated by human reason. First, indeed, because man is directed to God, as to an end that surpasses the grasp of his reason: The eye hath not seen, O God, besides Thee, what things Thou hast prepared for them that love Thee (Isa 64:4). But the end must first be known by men who are to direct their thoughts and actions to the end. Hence it was necessary for the salvation of man that certain truths which exceed human reason should be made known to him by divine revelation… It was therefore necessary that besides philosophical science built up by reason, there should be a sacred science learned through revelation (ST, I, Q. 1, Art. 1).

This is the very first response to the very first set of objections under Q. 1 of the Summa. It stands to reason, therefore, that those who repeat the caricature mentioned in our introduction have most likely never even picked up this primary resource on the matter.

So it is that sacred doctrine is a science because it proceeds from principles established by the light of a higher science, namely, the science of God and the blessed. Hence, just as the musician accepts on authority the principles taught him by the mathematician, so sacred science is established on principles revealed by God (ST, I, Q. 1, Art. 2).

Summa Contra Gentiles

And consequently, although human reason is unable to fully grasp things above reason, it nevertheless acquires much perfection if at least it hold things, in any way whatever, by faith (SCG, I, Ch. 5).

In the above quotation, we see a very clear distinction between reason and faith, reason being unable to attain unto that which comes to us by faith.

Now, though the aforesaid truth of the Christian faith surpasses the ability of human reason, nevertheless those things which are naturally instilled in human reason cannot be opposed to this truth (SCG, I, Ch. 7).

In other words, though special revelation takes us beyond where nature can take us, yet the two will never contradict one another. Though faith is suprarational, it is not irrational.

Commentary on Romans (CoR)

For true knowledge of God, by its very nature, leads men to good, but it is bound, as though held captive, by a love of wickedness through which, as the Psalm says, truths have vanished from among the sons of men (Ps 11:1)… First, therefore, he says: rightly do I say that they have suppressed the truth about God. For they did possess some true knowledge of God, because that which is known of God, i.e., what can be known about God by men through reason, is manifest in them, i.e., is manifest to them from something in them, i.e., from an inner light. (CoR, C. 1, L. 6, 1:16-20).

The above regards not the articles of faith necessary unto salvation, but the natural truths God reveals concerning Himself through nature. Thomas never suggests this knowledge, known through reason, is sufficient for salvation. The “inner light” is the habit/capacity by which man knows God through what is made. He goes on in the same place—

Here it should be noted that one man manifests something to another by unfolding his own thought by means of such external signs as vocal sounds or writing. But God manifests something to man in two ways: first, by endowing him with an inner light through which he knows: send out your light and your truth (Ps 43:3); second, by proposing external signs of his wisdom, namely, sensible creatures: he poured her out, namely, wisdom, over all his works (Sir 1:9).

In an earlier part of Lecture 6, he outlines the way in which salvation is conferred—

The second consideration is how the Gospel confers salvation, namely, through faith, which is indicated when he says, to everyone who believes. This happens in three ways. First, through preaching: preach the Gospel to every creature. He who believes and is baptized will be saved (Mark 16:15). Second, by confessing the faith: with the mouth confession is made unto salvation (Rom 10:10). Third, by the Scripture; hence even the written words of the Gospel have a saving power, as Barnabas cured the sick by placing the Gospel upon them.

Preaching of the gospel, confessing the faith (Rom. 10:10), the Scriptures themselves, e.g. as they are read, applied, etc. In other words, the gospel is transmitted via these means. But the more important point is that here, Thomas teaches the gospel is what confers salvation by or through faith. He does not believe reason apprehends the gospel, nor does he allow another way, other than the gospel, for the conference of salvation.

Commentary on Second Timothy (CoST)

For if you consider its principle, it has a special place above all writings, because others are given through human reason, while Sacred Scripture is divine. Therefore he says Scripture is inspired of God. For prophecy came not by the will of man at any time; but the holy men of God spoke, inspired by the Holy Spirit (2 Pet 1:21); the inspiration of the Almighty gives understanding (Job 32:8) (CoST, Ch. 3, L. 3, 3:12-17).

Catena Aurea (CA)

But we do not therefore believe him to have been born of the Virgin, because by no other means he could have truly lived in the flesh, and appeared among men; but because it is so written in the Scripture, which if we believe not we cannot either be Christians, or be saved (CA, Ch. 1, L. 1).

Commentary on Dionysius (CoD)

For Denys, in his doctrine, is supported by the authority of sacred scripture, which has strength and power according as the apostles and prophets were moved to speaking by the Holy Spirit revealing to them and speaking in them (CoD, Ch. 1, L. 1).

Here, Thomas shows something of his integrated theological method. His historical theology is informed by His exegetical theology. It seems to be the case Thomas lays the authority of Scripture as the foundation while inquiring of the thoughts of men.

Opuscula I – Treatises (OI)

First, as to the origin of the spiritual substances, Christian tradition teaches most firmly that all spiritual substances—like all other creatures—were made by God, and this is proved by the authority of the canonical Scriptures. For it is said in the Psalms: Praise him, all his angels, praise him, all his host (Ps 148:2). And after all the other creatures have been enumerated, it is added: For he spoke and they were made; he commanded and they were created (Ps 148:5) (OI, II, Ch. 18).

Notice how Thomas states the dogma of the tradition, but he looks to the Scripture the proof of the dogma. Again, he is informed by the authority of the “canonical Scriptures.”

Conclusion

This is by no means everything I could have compiled on this subject. Yet, it suffices to show how Thomas most certainly made a distinction between reason and faith, what can be known through nature and what can be known only through Scripture. Thomas, therefore, did not teach that man, through reason alone, could be saved.

Benjamin Keach’s Employment of Aristotle in ‘Tropologia’

Benjamin Keach’s Employment of Aristotle in ‘Tropologia’

In the below verbiage, it becomes clear that our Baptist forefather, Benjamin Keach, positively and helpfully employs Aristotle. However, what is equally obvious, particularly in the first few references, is that his positive reception of Aristotle is not wholesale. But, then again, neither was the medieval reception of Aristotle wholesale. Keach, then, is following very much in the footsteps of the medieval scholastics in terms of his method of appropriation of heathen sources such as Aristotle. In Tropologia, he likewise makes positive use of Cicero and Thomas Aquinas. Aquinas appears positively invoked in ch. 4 of Gold Refined, his treatise on baptism.

Preface Page v

Do we think that Jehovah will use inductions as Plato, syllogisms as Aristotle, epiphonemas as Cicero, subtleties as Seneca, or any artificial syntax? 

The Divine Authority of the Holy Scriptures, Page xi

And shall we indeed think, that the great God would use inductions, as Plato; syllogisms, as Aristotle; elenchs, as the Carmeades; epiphonemas, as Cicero; subtleties, as Seneca; or words far fetched, joined together with an artificial syntax, with respect to weight, number, and sound? 

The Divine Authority of the Holy Scriptures, Page xii

What pitiful, crooked, and imperfect lines have the wisest and best of mere men, as Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Tully, Seneca, Plutarch, or any others, drawn in their fairest documents, both moral and divine, compared with this complete and transcendent rule of holy living! 

Chapter VI: Of a Metaphor in General, Page 37

But in proportion, two answers two, as Aristotle in his second book of the soul compares a root to the mouth, because it performs the same office to a plant, as the mouth does to a living creature. 

Human Actions Ascribed to God, Page 63

So much of the external actions of sense, whose affections are sleep and watchfulness; for as in sleep the actions of sense are still and quiet, so in watchfulness they are provoked to their respective operations, as Aristotle says.

Of Metaphors Whereby Things Are Proposed, as Persons, Which Are Not Persons, Which Kind They Call Prosopopeia, Page 88

What was the sense of your arms?” Aristotle defines this metaphor, “that which is in act, bringing in inanimate things doing something, as if they had life and sense;” but we will follow the distinct classes of scripture examples.

Metaphors Taken from Some Generalities of Living Creatures, Pages 146–147

He is called a mighty hunter, Gen. 10:9; who abuses his power violently to oppress and subdue men, or is a tyrant; Illyricus, Venatio habet simile quiddam bello, &c., hunting has some resemblance to war, as Xenophon says in his instruction of Cyrus; “yea, it is a kind of war: and, on the other hand, war is a kind of hunting of servile and disobedient men,” as Aristotle in his last book of politics says: “Therefore when Nimrod is said to be a mighty hunter,” it is to be interpreted a warrior, which appears from the text itself, for it is applied in this place to the principal cities of that kingdom, which may not be properly said of a hunter, but of a king or general of an host who built strong cities, when he subdued the countries. 

Of Metaphors Taken from the Kinds of Living Creatures, Page 154

Of the kinds of volatiles, the turtle dove denotes the people of Israel, or the church, Psal. 74:19, “O deliver not the soul of thy turtle dove unto the multitude:” (of which he spoke verse 18,) that is, thy church and people, who worship none but thee, as a turtle dove, that never entertains conjunction with another, and who in their affliction, like a turtle dove, (Isa. 38:14;) express their grief in solitary groans and sighs to thee: and which is unarmed, weak, simple, and meek like a dove, yea, like a turtle dove, which is esteemed the least among the species of doves as Aristotle says. 

Of the Figures of a Word, Page 199

The word Σχημα Schema, principally and properly signifies the garb, habit, or ornament of the body; and by a metaphor is translated to signify the beauty, or ornament of speech, as Aristotle and Cicero say. 

Of the Figures of a Sentence in Logism, Page 206

The perfect is, when the proper person is wholly laid aside, and another person or thing is introduced as speaking; or when the very formal words of the person introduced are recited, which from Plato and Aristotle, de poetis, is called μιμησις, or imitation: in the sacred scripture either the true person is introduced as speaking, or an inanimate thing: the first is done openly or covertly: openly, as when the verb of saying is premised, and a clear intimation given that another person speaks; covertly, when the verb of saying is omitted; in an apert prosopopœia, the speech is uttered of the thing itself; or else feigned and framed to signify another thing: the former is either good and true, or false and evil. 

The Church Compared to a Dove, Page 683

That is, thy Church and people, who worship none but thee, as the turtle-Dove, that never entertains conjunction with another, and who in their affliction, like a Dove, express their grief in sighs and solitary groans to thee; and which is unarmed, weak, simple, and meek, like the turtle-Dove, which is esteemed the least among the species of Doves, as Aristotle says. 

Wicked Men Debtors, Page 794

Nay, Aristotle saith, Debtors wish their creditors to have no being, wish they were dead, so that they might thereby be freed from their Debts.

Wicked Men Compared to Lions, Page 811

And we may see what the intent of a person is, by his looks; many are in this respect Lion-like: they have, as Aristotle saith of the natural Lion, clouds and storms hanging about their eye-brows; it was a threatening against the Jews, in case of disobedience, that God would send against them, “A nation of a fierce countenance, which should not regard the person of the old, nor show favour to the young,” Deut. 28:50.

Wicked Men Compared to Vipers, Page 821

Young Vipers, as Aristotle, Pliny,† Rhodogin, and others affirm, eat their way into the world through their mother’s belly, though some seem to doubt of the truth of this generally received opinion: so the Scribes and Pharisees cried out, we are Abraham’s children, &c., and from thence concluded, they were meet subjects for baptism, and should be saved: they, like Vipers, as one observes, would needs find a way to heaven through the bowels of their ancestors, or by the faith of their parents: but what said the Baptist? 

The Devil a Dragon, Page 925

Besides, we have approved histories and historians, which treat of them, as Ælianus, Aristotle, Pliny, Mantuan, Gesner, Ovid, &c.

The Devil a Serpent, Page 926

Aristotle and Galen define a Serpent to be Animal sanguineum, pedibus orbatum, et oviparum; that is, a bloody beast, without feet, laying eggs.

Resources:

Benjamin Keach, Tropologia: A Key to Open Scripture Metaphors (London: William Hill Collingridge, 1856), v–926.

Jeff Johnson, Moved Movers, & Ghostly Paradoxes

Jeff Johnson, Moved Movers, & Ghostly Paradoxes

In his counter to Ed Feser’s article written in response to The Failure of Natural Theology, Jeff Johnson writes, “Aquinas accepted Aristotle’s foundation that God is the unmoved mover, but Aquinas did not embrace Aristotle’s logical conclusion that God could not have been the moving cause of the universe.” In other words, it is irrational to assert, on the one hand, God’s immobility while yet understanding Him to be the “moving cause” of the universe. He goes on to explain—

By holding Aristotle’s starting point and rejecting Aristotle’s conclusion, Aquinas’ philosophical theology was filled with all kinds of irresolvable tensions. As I explain in my book, Aquinas was unable to show how God could be Pure Act (unmoved mover) and, at the same time, the moving cause (effectual cause) of a world that was made out of nothing. How can Pure Act do something that is not essential to his own pure actuality? How can Pure Act do anything that is not necessary? Aquinas never gave any good answers to these questions. Aristotle sure didn’t think Pure Act could be the moving cause of the universe.

Johnson seems to believe there is an apparent contradiction in need of explanation. There is, as it were, a paradox in need of resolution. But, as we shall see, there is no such paradox unless the doctrine of pure actuality is approached through materialist and, might I say, Newtonian assumptions. Beyond a ghostly apparition, lacking all substance, this apparent contradiction is nonexistent. 

Thomas’ Flow of Thought

Johnson alleges Thomas fails to explain the “tension” between God as a pure act on the one hand and the temporal reality of His effects on the other. If God produces effects, it is assumed, He must undergo some kind of motion in order to bring them about. Thus, to say God is immobile while attributing the work of temporal, mobile creation to Him appears to be a contradiction in terms in need of serious philosophical and theological explanation.

Thomas, however, did not sense such a burden. For Thomas, God’s effects were and are to be interpreted in light of who God is. Rather than utilizing the finite characteristics of creation as an interpretive grid for the doctrine of God, there are fundamental things which cannot be true of God, e.g. contingency, finitude, change. We should understand God, as unchanging, necessary Being, as that which conditions creation rather than understanding creation as that which conditions or limits God—which it would do if God required motion (the actualization of a potential) in order to create. Such a divine priority is set forth in what Thomas writes here:

From what precedes, it is shown that God is altogether immutable. First, because it was shown above that there is some first being, whom we call God; and that this first being must be pure act, without the admixture of any potentiality, for the reason that, absolutely, potentiality is posterior to act. Now everything which is in any way changed, is in some way in potentiality. Hence it is evident that it is impossible for God to be in any way changeable (ST, I, Q. 9, Art. 1).

Why is God altogether immutable? “Because it was shown earlier,” he says, “that there is some first being, whom we call God; and that this first being must be pure act…” In other words, Thomas does not argue as thus: “Creation came into being. Coming into being entails motion. Therefore, there must be a ‘first motion’ in God.” Such an order would be wrong-headed to a medieval scholastic like Thomas because it imposes what is proper only of composed, contingent being upon God—who is altogether simple and therefore necessary.

Does Creation Necessarily Imply a “First Motion” in God?

Johnson asks, “How can Pure Act do something that is not essential to his own pure actuality? How can Pure Act do anything that is not necessary?” If pure act is already “done,” so to speak, how can it “do” any more? To do that which He has not yet done, e.g. to create, would seem to imply some movement from “not doing” to “doing” in God. But to assume God must undergo motion Himself in order to produce motion in another is to place Him squarely within the order of contingency. Most obviously because God would depend on movement in order to bring about His effects. More subtly, however, is the sneaking suggestion that God, like His creatures, would theoretically take on all the marks of what is termed a subordinate cause. Johnson seems to think God is the “moved mover,” which Bernard Wuellner defines as “a cause of motion in another which is itself also moved by another while imparting motion.”[1]

To suggest motion in God as requisite to motion in the creature has three main (read: fatal) implications:

1) God is an admixture of act and potency. He is in act, that is, He exists. But there is some potential or capacity in God to be actualized prior to and for the purpose of creation. This means God is dependent upon two parts or principles to be what He is—act and potency.

2) God is conditioned by motion. If God wants to create, He is required to move from one state of being, “not-Creator,” to another state of being, “Creator.” In other words, given motion in God, (1) comes back to haunt us, that God is composed of act and potency. Motion, after all, is but the actualization of a potential.

3) God is conditioned by His creation. For God to bring about creation, He must undergo motion, and this implies creation determines or conditions God similar to how a builder is conditioned by His building project. His building project determines him while likewise he determines his building project. Just as the builder and his project have a give-and-take causal relationship, God is assumed to have a similar relationship to the world at large. If God would not undergo “creative motion” prior to creation, then creation is at least partially responsible for the actualization of the potential to create in God. If this is so, God would depend on His creation and would thus not be self-existent or a se.

All of this cashes out in a contingent or dependent god who relies upon that which is not God to be God. He would be composed of act and potency, two principles which make him to be what he is. He would be reliant upon motion itself as a requisite to the fulfillment of his goal. And he would be reliant on creation since, in order to create, he must meet certain conditions, i.e. motion. Creation determines, defines, or conditions him, thereby decimating the doctrine of self-existence (cf. Ex. 3:14).

On these grounds, any kind of coherent theism would be impossible. And, if I might employ the help of Anselm’s ontological argument: If there is something greater than a being conditioned to create through act/potency, the actualization of a potential (movement), etc., then that Being is God, and not the one conditioned by motion and creatures. I can conceive of a God that does not require motion in order to create, that is, a God that is actus purus. Thus, the moving, conditioned god is not God. The unconditioned Conditioner is God.

Conclusion

The issues raised by Johnson are not really issues at all. His problems with classical theism assume a certain order of dogmatic theology classical theists would consider incoherent. God, as pure act, cannot be subjugated to categories and properties proper only to contingency and finitude. If God is pure act, unchangeable, and infinite, it follows that He is the unconditioned Conditioner of all that is not God. While creation is a means by which we derive creaturely or ectypal knowledge of God, it itself is not the measure of God. Subordinate causation, i.e. moved movers, a feature of contingency, should not be projected upon God simply due to the profound and inescapable experience creatures have with them. Instead, features proper to contingency ought to be unquestioningly removed from the divine essence so that we do not erroneously promote the “creationalization” of God.

Much of the above, admittedly, addresses a confusion, the likes of which result from rhetoric more so than real disagreement on technicalia. I believe there is some real terminological confusion occurring in this conversation and a severe case of an overcommitment to thesis. Much of this could be resolved if Johnson and others were more amicable to the idea of two-way communication, dialogue, and debate on the issue. For my part, this offer will always stand.

Resources:

[1] Bernard Wuellner, Dictionary of Scholastic Philosophy, (Fitzwilliam: Loreto Publications, 2012), 78.

Prudent Knowledge

Prudent Knowledge

The apostle Paul was an educator who deeply desired the intellectual growth of his brethren. A key reason for placing limits upon prophetic activity in the Corinthian church was, “that all may learn and all may be encouraged (1 Cor. 14:31).” He prayed for the Colossians church and disclosed his prayerful purpose in writing, “that you may walk worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing Him, being fruitful in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God (Col. 1:10).” Peter tells us that God’s “divine power has given to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who called us by glory and virtue (2 Pet. 1:3).” And it is to “virtue” that we are to add “knowledge (v. 5).” And this pays dividends in the form of growing in “the knowledge  of our Lord Jesus Christ (v. 8).” Peter goes so far as to command us to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (2. Pet. 3:18).”

Maturity in theological knowledge, i.e. “the knowledge of God (Col. 1:10),” is a central imperative and admonishment dictated to the church in general throughout the pages of Scripture. This isn’t a trademark of the New Testament only. Such a thematic emphasis finds its background in numerous calls to knowledge in the Old Testament as well. For example, the supplication of the psalmist, “Teach me good judgment and knowledge, For I believe Your commandments (Ps. 119:66).” And in Proverbs 1:22 it is not the faithful who hate knowledge, but fools, “How long, you simple ones, will you love simplicity? For scorners delight in their scorning, And fools hate knowledge.” Knowledge and the maturity therein is a pervasive concept in Scripture.

A Purposeful Ambiguity?

A quick read of the several “knowledge statements” found in both Old and New Testaments leaves one asking, “Okay, I know I should know. But, how much do I have to know?” Obviously, we would immediately want to include the essentials of the faith within the “things-we-must-know” category. But that’s not all we are called to know, and our first encounter with those precious doctrines is not to be our only encounter.

Such quantitative ambiguity appears to be intentional on God’s part. How much knowledge must we have beyond the essentials? The nebulous nature of this knowledge and the extent to which we are to know leaves room for a number of factors—from subjective aptitude levels to subjective levels of available information. Some people cannot learn the way others learn. First to fourth century Christians would have had severely limited access to a complete New Testament canon depending on their respective lifetimes and locations. Additionally, we live in a busy age, and most people are taken up with secular affairs and cannot afford to study like a seminary student, professor, or full-time pastor. Thus, Scripture doesn’t present us with a curriculum beyond the essentials of the faith which we are commanded to stringently teach and learn. Yet, we nevertheless know that the Christian is to yearn for more divine knowledge, and that such a love for God exists is clearly the spirit and goal behind the “learning imperatives.”

To Speak, or Not to Speak?

This raises an interesting question: Should we be content with the mere letter of the text of Scripture? In other words, isn’t it enough that we memorize Scripture, that is, the ink as it sits upon the page, rather than travel down deep theological holes? 

In light of the above biblical observations, the answer has to be, “no.” A man may memorize the entirety of Scripture, but that does not mean his learning has reached its end. The God Scripture reveals is infinitely glorious, and He has revealed Himself to us that we may know and unceasingly grow in knowing. Therefore, the text of Holy Writ boasts of fathomless depths which each and every Christian should desire to plumb. But this doesn’t mean every Christian must be equal in the extent to which they plumb. Jesus, in the parable of the talents, assumes God gives according to ability. Such language takes for granted not only differing abilities, but even various levels of the same ability, “And to one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one, to each according to his own ability; and immediately he went on a journey (Matt. 25:15).” And in Romans 12:6 Paul writes, “Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, let us use them…” And these gifts are given by God Himself, “A man can receive nothing unless it has been given him from heaven (Jn. 3:27).”

All Christians ought to press on to know God. Not all Christians will know God to the exact same degree. Some who know to a great degree will benefit others through the fruit of their intellectual labors. Others who do not know to a great degree may benefit from such fruits. Still, there are some who do not know to a great degree who desire to speak on things they do not yet understand to a sufficient degree. 

The first group is obeying God in seeking more knowledge. The second group is obeying God in seeking more knowledge. But the third group has a choice. It is not wrong to desire to teach that which is not yet understood by the would-be teacher. Teaching is a qualification for eldership after all, and the desire to be a teacher has to begin somewhere (1 Tim. 3:2). But those who speak publicly prior to first understanding the subject to be spoken of are disobeying God in speaking to things they do not yet understand. And this might result in a violation of the ninth commandment (Ex. 20:16), stumbling blocks in front of fellow saints (Mk. 9:42), slips into erroneous and dangerous doctrine, etc.

Therefore, while it is imperative we know God and grow in our knowledge of God, it is not imperative we all grow to the same degree. And it is especially not imperative we speak to doctrines we have not yet grown into. Quite the contrary. If we speak to that which we do not yet understand we may actually dishonor God, cause confusion among the saints, and fail to adorn the gospel of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Conclusion

Aquinas once wrote—

The existence of God and other like truths about God, which can be known by natural reason, are not articles of faith, but are preambles to the articles; for faith presupposes natural knowledge, even as grace presupposes nature, and perfection supposes something that can be perfected. Nevertheless, there is nothing to prevent a man, who cannot grasp a proof, accepting, as a matter of faith, something which in itself is capable of being scientifically known and demonstrated (Summa Theologiae, I, Q. 2, A. 2).

In other words, while some men, endowed by their Creator, may take pains to explore the contours of divinity revealed through nature, those unable to do so—for any of the limiting reason mentioned above—may instead accept the same truths otherwise deduced according to the light of nature by faith in the divine Word set forth in Holy Scripture. Thus, those things which might be known of God through both nature and Scripture may justifiably be known by one or the other, but not necessarily both.

It is fitting that man should know God through wherever he might learn of Him—either through nature or Scripture. And though this is expected of those whom God has called and endowed to perform it, it is not required of man generally. This same principle might be applicable even to knowledge derived from Scripture. Not everyone will go on to learn Hebrew, Aramaic, or New Testament Greek. Not everyone will write a biblical theology like those penned by the hands of John Owen, Geerhardus Vos, or Greg Beale. Why? Not only are some not intellectually incapable of doing so, but some are providentially hindered by other God-given responsibilities.

Let us, therefore, humbly go forth according to the grace God has given each of us.

A Note on Political Theology

A Note on Political Theology

The Noahic Covenant remains because no place in Holy Scripture abrogates it. On the contrary, it assumes its continuance in places like Romans 13. It’s institution is neither causal nor characteristic of the domain of darkness (1 Jn. 1:5). But neither is it’s administration granted to the Redemptive Kingdom (kingdom of God). This is because the sword is instituted in the Noahic Covenant, and this is nowhere said to be a power of grace and faith but of nature and law.

The civil sphere is of the Noahic administration (or civil/common kingdom), and a necessary part of creation (Cf. Gen. 9). It may contextualize the Redemptive kingdom (the kingdom of God is in the world, not of the world), but its ordinances do not belong to the Redemptive kingdom. Romans 13 gives the “sword” to civil government, “Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God (v. 1).” At no point does Scripture grant the powers of the sword to the kingdom of God.

So, there is a domain of darkness (principalities, powers, etc). But distinctly, there are two kingdoms both of which are afflicted by that same domain and influenced by it in different ways, yet neither are ever defeated—the common/civil kingdom being upheld by common grace, and the Redemptive kingdom through special grace.

The common kingdom is the Noahic institution and administration which remains until the consummation and judgment. The Redemptive kingdom is the New Covenant and all which comes through it. The domain of darkness is the realm of the devil and his demons who were defeated by Christ and have been immutably sentenced to eternal damnation. This realm affects both the common and the Redemptive kingdoms at present, yet the common kingdom remains good in itself, and the Redemptive kingdom remains good in itself. And the domain of darkness will be finally extinguished upon the consummation.