Paleo vs. Neo-Reformed (continued)
March 4th, 2009 by Darryl G. HartThe paleo/neo distinction for Reformed Protestants is not only useful for discerning different attitudes toward evangelicalism, but even for figuring out distinct understandings of Calvinism itself. After all, the Kuyperian or world-and-life-view form of Calvinism has always been known as neo-Calvinism. That reputation implies a distinction with paleo-Calvinism, and furthers the wariness that should accompany the use of the prefix “neo” — as in neo-conservative, neo-evangelical, and neo-orthodox.
Neo-Calvinists are prone to dismiss paleo-Calvinists as warmed over Lutherans because of either the two-kingdom doctrine or the spirituality of the church. This is not the place to elaborate on either of these, except to remark that when paleo-Calvinists distinguish between the sacred and the secular, the spiritual and the natural, the temporal and the eternal, neo-Calvinists go batty and think that paleo-Calvinists are following Luther and restricting Christianity to the realm of religion and ethics. (As if Luther’s view of vocation and the goodness of work in this world doesn’t suggest that neo-Calvinists are confused about Luther and Lutheranism.)
True enough, paleo-Calvinists do distinguish between redemption and creation and think of Christianity the way the Bible does, as a religion of redemption and not a program of cultural and social renewal (which is why so many neo-Calvinists are tempted by theonomy and a view of Israel as a program of cultural and social renewal). But paleo-Calvinists do recognize the goodness of creation. They simply don’t think that creation is the place to look for redemption.
At the same time, paleo-Calvinists understand that redemption goes beyond creation. Creation as good was not the aim of God’s plan. The idea was to go higher to a place of blessedness that was even better than goodness. Sin messed up that plan. But redemption puts glorification back into play by promising that saints will one day inherit what Adam would have had he kept the covenant of works. The Garden of Eden was not the goal, nor was Old Jerusalem, Grand Rapids, or New York City. The new heavens and new earth was.
Paleo-Calvinists object to neo-Calvinists, then, for not understanding that consummation goes beyond creational norms and structures. Neo-Calvinists seem to want to go back to the Garden. Paleo-Calvinists believe that the Garden was not and is not all there is to man’s chief end. Pale0-Calvinists also sense that ne0-Calvinists are not really comfortable with the goodness of creation as creation. That’s why they keep talking about the need to redeem the culture, or redemption as cultural or social renewal. The implicit point seems to be that if something can’t be saved, then it’s no good. The neo-Calvinist seems to have no place for an in-between state — one between holy and profane such as common or good.
Neo-Calvinists should not despair. Paleo-Calvinists have just what they need, that is a dose of paleo-Calvinism from the most paleo of Calvinists, John Calvin, who made a distinction that neo-Calvinists are loathe to make:
. . . whoever knows how to distinguish between body and soul, between this present fleeting life and that future eternal life, will without difficulty know that Christ’s spiritual Kingdom and the civil jurisdiction are things completely distinct. Since, then, it is a Jewish vanity to seek and enclose Christ’s Kingdom within the elements of this world, let us rather ponder that what Scripture clearly teaches is a spiritual fruit, which we gather from Christ’s grace; and let us remember to keep within its own limits all that freedom which is promised and offered to us in him. For why is it that the same apostle who bids us stand and no submit to the ‘yoke of bondage’ (Gal. 5:1) elsewhere forbids slaves to be anxious about their state (1 Cor. 7:21), unless it be that spiritual freedom can perfectly well exist along with civil bondage? . . . . By these statements he means that it makes no difference what your condition among men may be or under what nation’s laws you live, since the Kingdom of Christ does not at all consist of these things.
This quotation points precisely at an in-between realm that is neither wicked nor holy — it is temporal, earthly, and provisional. It recognizes that some things in life are good even if they are not holy, and that their proper place is simply to be good and not to be saved (or made holy). It is the difference between a good meal and a holy meal. And the ability to see the difference between an exceptional home-cooked meal and the Lord’s Supper is one that allows paleo-Calvinists to see the difference between the creational realm of culture and society, and the redeemed world of the church. It is, in fact, the only way to make sense of statements like this one from the Belgic Confession:
Now those who are regenerated have in them a twofold life (2 John 3:6): the one corporal and temporal, which they have from the first birth and is common to all men; the other spiritual and heavenly, which is given them in their second birth (John 3:5), which is effected by the word of the gospel (John 5:23, 25) in the communion of the body of Christ: and this life is not common, but is peculiar to God’s elect (1 John 5:12; John 10:28). In like manner God has given us, for the support of the bodily and earthly life, earthly and common bread which is subservient thereto and is common to all men, even as life itself. But for the support of the spiritual and heavenly life which believers have, he has sent a living bread which descended from heaven, namely, Jesus Christ (John 6:32-33, 51), who nourishes and strengthens the spiritual life of believers when they eat Him, that is to say, when they apply and receive him by faith and in the Spirit (John 6:63). (BC, Art. 35)
Why? This is another reductio argument. I don’t seem hampered at all by endless ethicizing, nor by busy-bodiness (maybe a little, but not anti-socially so), and yet I also think I’m right, or at least on to something.
So either my position doesn’t entail an extreme position, or else I’m cheerfully but thoughtfully inconsistent.
I think the former. I think it’s possible to begin with the basic premise that God’s Word is sovereign over all of life, that it sits at the center of all human activity, and yet accord others the basic freedom to be wrong.
In fact, I’ll go one step further. I think the Reformed position allows for a tremendous amount of freedom because it distinguishes Scripture from one’s own interpretation of Scripture. That distinction allows me to be personally “theonomic” — that is, to desire to be ruled by Scripture equally in the private and public spheres — and also to allow others to disagree with me, without having to accuse them of selling out the Scriptures or demanding that they conform to my worldview.
It also allows me to obey laws that are wrong without having to be bound in conscience to them.
Zrim, one of the arguments you’ve made several times is that when I pass a law as a magistrate, I’m binding the conscience of another. This is not fully true.
Certainly, if I’m requiring someone to do something unethical, then I’m binding their conscience. But if I pass a law requiring, say, the labeling of nutritional information on containers of food, then my law is not passing moral judgment on other possible labels, or on no label at all. Instead, it is simply requiring a certain kind of behavior, not a certain kind of belief.
That’s one reason that I am not paralyzed by the prospect of accidentally imposing my Christian ethics on non-believers. At a behavioral level, I have to impose *some* kind of ethics via the law, and Christian ethics is the only kind I know (not really — but it’s the only kind I want to use!). At a conscience level, they’re free to believe whatever they want.
So I have no problem with requiring people not to murder, but allowing them the freedom to worship another “god.” The first is a restraint of behavior; the second is an issue of the heart.
JRC
Jeff,
If I understand your concern it is the suggestion that there is 2K/SOTC and then there is everything else. And you perceive this to be an extreme posture, which also seems to assume there is something wrong with extreme postures. While I’m not much for the implications of being an extremist, I have to admit that you rightly perceive that 2K/SOTC confronts fairly stridently the human default setting. But that seems pretty consistent with the narrowness, exclusivity, intolerance and counter-intuitive nature of Christianity in the first place, at least to my mind.
I think the grocery store analogy is a good one for exploration…In fact, there are private and public aspects to Cagledom. However, being in public does not nullify the private aspects…One of our private rules is, “We are loyal to each other.” In public, I would, Lord willing, honor that private rule even if a “common good” could be served by breaking it…So it turns out that the answer to your question, “Is it necessary to bring Caglehood to bear…” is not simple.
Yes, but “being loyal to each other” is a common rule that Cagles and non-Cagles share, like not stealing butter. Not/eating Ida Reds is peculiar. My point was to ask what relevance peculiarity has on common endeavor. My suggestion is none, only commonality has relevance to common endeavor. Moreover, what is common on the part of Cagles, loyalty and not stealing, is grounded in Caglehood for Cagles. Little Cagles not only don’t steal because, like non-Cagles, they all generally agree stealing is no way to get along but also, and perhaps more importantly, because mom and dad say so. Cagles have indicatives that are distinct from non-Cagles. Their imperatives may look the same but their indicatives are really what distinguish them.
No they don’t, and not for the same reasons (necessarily) if they do. In fact, if we all shared the same rules, then there would be precious little need for government (above and beyond distribution issues). We have the police for a reason: we don’t all share the same ethical values, and we don’t all practice the ethical values we claim.
Or to use your language, the indicatives will out.
JRC
In fact, if we all shared the same rules, then there would be precious little need for government…
No, because human beings need governing. That’s the principle. The application (i.e. how) varies. We all already share the same fundamental rules, we just differ on how they should be applied.
We have the police for a reason: we don’t all share the same ethical values, and we don’t all practice the ethical values we claim.
We have police because we have criminals. Everyone agrees that stealing is wrong, even those who violate the rule. (Indeed, Madoff depends on stealing being wrong, otherwise he’d never come into stupid amounts of money.) The point isn’t to get everyone to agree on ethics because we already do; the point is to punish evildoers.
Jeff, I’m a bad correspondent right now. So here are a jumble of thoughts.
Why is it that a guy who is “personally” theonomic would only advocate nutritional labels on food? What about capital punishment for fornicaters? And if you’re only privately theonomic, would you execute someone in your family who violated an OT capital offense but gladly live in a liberal democracy where such offender would receive only a fine (at most)?
I don’t see you thinking enough about power and it could because you’re thinking so much about ethics. What is your jurisdiction as an elder, father, teacher, citizen? This is a version of what is your vocation? But not all rules or ethics fit all vocations. As a father I would hope you would not turn the other cheek if your son slapped you. The same would go for the classroom. But what about a magistrate (and what does the sermon on the mount do to your personal theonomy)? What about you as a neighbor or citizen?
I think the either-or ness of my position comes from the distinction between what the Bible requires and what it doesn’t leaves us with freedom. I see no instruction for national politics in the Bible. I see instruction for church polity — whether Israel’s or Christianity. But only one nation had rule over matters religious. So the rest of the nations have liberty. The created order and the law written on our hearts help fight complete antinomianism in the civil realm. But the lesson still applies; the church may only require what the Bible either explicitly commends or condemns. After that believers have freedom to eat meat offered to idols or not, to put up a stop sign or a stop light.
Then don’t forget the category of wisdom. In between what the Bible instructs and Christian liberty is what is most fitting according to the created order. This is a much tougher call and one that is almost impossible to execute in the church. But it is one that would allow the Cagles to say they are doing a better job as parents than the Zrims.
One last thought — you need to see the downside of every piece of legislation or policy. Nutritional labels look good and wholesome. Who could be against them? Well, the farmer who doesn’t want pay for the paper work to get licenses, or to have labels on the milk he sells to local residents. It is possible that government can prevent bad things from happening. But it also prevents good things too. A farmer or local businessman who carries on on the basis of trust and reputation rather than regulation is someone who might find your labels unethical and if not an abuse of power unwise for the health of a local community.
Well, I understand where you’re coming from. This will dovetail with Obj 3. Here’s something to think about: suppose that natural man suppresses knowledge of God and becomes really determined to do so. In that case, would it not be possible that he would *resist* agreement on anything smacking of God’s law? It is my contention that we’ve arrived at that point.
JRC
Ha! I think I’ll wait about 30 years before attempting to evaluate that one.
…suppose that natural man suppresses knowledge of God and becomes really determined to do so. In that case, would it not be possible that he would *resist* agreement on anything smacking of God’s law? It is my contention that we’ve arrived at that point.
If I understand, this sounds like there are sinners and then there are sinners. But my Calvinism only understands two categories: saints and sinners. I don’t perceive there to be variations of either. I understand some sinners to also be saints, perplexing and mysterious as that reality can be.
What do you mean “we’ve arrived at that point”? Is this a commentary on the world state of affairs? If so, I don’t believe that the world gets better or worse as time either progresses or retreats (or as place differs); coupled with my Calvinism, my amillennialism isn’t given to either sunny or gloomy views of human history. There is nothing new under the sun when it comes to human beings and their world. What we see now is what we would see the day after we were sent packing east of Eden and what we’ll see right before the last trumpet.
Zrim, maybe Jeff is referring to the state of this discussion — where we are now. Ha!
Jeff, even the most depraved of persons seems to have a keen sense of fairness. Where do you think that comes from? And don’t you think that’s fairly constant?
Case and point, Jeff. I thought of that crack before Darryl did, but even in the midst of my total depravity I refrained and let him because it’s only fair to let a blog host have such honors.
Wait, hold on. I’m NOT referring to the current state of the discussion, but of the current state of theories about government current in Western society. More to come.
—
What a great example of what I mean! The word “fair” is entirely broken in our society. What is a “fair” tax code? Flat amount? Flat rate? ueber-Progressive? No-one can define it.
What is a “fair” amount of time for students to get to take their SATs? Equal time for all? Extra time for kids with disabilities? (Read “Harrison Bergeron” for an extreme take on this). No-one can say because the word “fair”, in the end, means “I like it.” It is the ultimate in subjectivist ethics.
(We’ve been recently working on the 5-year-old to stop saying “it’s not fair!” about Every Single Little Thing she doesn’t like …)
The basic sense of fairness is a reflection of the law of God written on the hearts of men. But the results of sin are such that a sense of fairness alone does not get us to a governmental theory. The Natural Law, such as it is, gives us a “First Use” function (as in Romans 2), but not a civil government.
Well, this is far afield from where we started.
JRC
Jeff, I’m not sure how far afield this idea is, especially the one you introduced when you suggested we have reached a time when natural man is so bad that we can’t even begin to agree of ethical standards. Interestingly enough, this seems also to be related to the other conversation about justification and sanctification. Oddly, it is the 2k people who seem to take sin more seriously in the realm of soteriology and keep pointing out how sanctification is imperfect, and hence the need for the priority of justification. But in the civil realm, the idea of man’s depravity is not as troubling to 2kers, and so we’re not as depressed about the current state of affairs — in fact, our expectations for the civil realm were never that high (at least once adjusted for our theology). But you Jeff seem much more hopeful about progress in the Christian life and more despairing about the state of civil society than I do (I think Zrim would agree). Either way, I think there’s enough in man’s instinct for fairness on which to base some form of civil government. No, it won’t be as pretty as the government and order of our churches — ahem — but it will still allow for a measure of order and stability.
Btw, for a great article on the relationship between the 2k view and the ordo salutis, see Dave VanDrunen’s inaugural lecture in the current Westminster Theological Journal.
Jeff,
I knew you weren’t talking about the state of the discussion but rather how you see the world shaking out these days. My point then is still relevant and stands, even as you appear to be posturing yourself to take on particular ideological, political, social or cultural specifics.
I think the “fair” point was simply one about the fact that sinners all have an enduring sense of what is right, true and good however obscured it may be and however other sinners like to think they have a better handle on it. And, at the risk of sounding like an overly Sunday-schooled snot, the right answer to Darryl’s question is, “God.”
Nevertheless, your point is very well taken. Like my Catholic friend regularly points out, justice and mercy are far superior, and biblical, categories to use. If experience counts for anything I will suggest to you a bit of due caution in exorcising your 5-year-old of her bad linguistic habits. It scraped me for years, too. But sometimes it is just shorthand for, “I don’t like that; I disagree; you are frustrating me; I’m mad as hell and I’m not gonna take it anymore.”
Vonnegut is a literary genius. He makes me seriously question the doctrine of re-incarnation, as he is the modern manifestation of Mark Twain (kinda like Hart is to Machen).
Darn, I wanted to be Mencken. (He died only three weeks before my birth. Coincidence? You tell me.)
No thanks, providence has a thing about trying to figure it out.
Driscoll and I share the exact same birth date (really). I wonder what that means (not really). We’re both Libras…after that, I don’t know what we have in common.
I quite agree, yes. But probably only because I think you are right.
Jeff, if I told you I had a proximate justice in one hand and an exact one in the other, which would you choose?
Yes, I have an intuitive sense that the whole WSC project: W2K, the upholding of ordo and downplaying of union, the definite stance on Kline v. Murray, and Horton’s work on justification are all inter-related. But I don’t have a clear picture yet.
JRC
Yes, that is my concern exactly (about ‘W2K’ — is ‘SOTC’ the ‘Spirituality of the Church’?). There is nothing wrong with extreme postures per se, but you’ve already given up the extreme posture by conceding that the public and private spheres overlap to some extent. Having conceded that, the only question left to settle is, “to what extent, and how do we know?” (That question is precisely the one that SF leaves unanswered.)
So the problem is one of (apparent) inconsistency. On the one hand, W2K demands pristine sphere separation from others and criticizes them for not obeying the proper jurisdictions of each sphere. On the other, it admits that the spheres overlap BUT it fails to provide a clear account of the overlap.
What we’re left with looks like, to an outsider, that Zrim and DGH are the ultimate arbiters of sphere sovereignty: if someone else commingles the spheres, they are wrong. But if we press the issue, we discover that the spheres can be commingled after all.
The forgoing is an uncharitable take, I admit. I suspect that there’s more to your view than just arbitrary sniping at others! But I want to provoke you to put your cards on the table here and talk about how we go about determining the proper overlap of public and private.
JRC
Jeff,
This may cause fits, but 2K/SOTC (yes, SOTC is ‘Spirituality of the Church’) is perfectly at ease with what you call “apparent inconsistencies” and imply as contradictions, as well as arbitrariness. This is because 2K understands that the individual believer is the nexus of the two kingdoms. He has a foot in both kingdoms. Instead of trying to resolve the tension of this inherent paradox by bringing one kingdom to bear on the other, 2K lets the believer straddle his dual citizenship and live with the tension. It’s easy to lose balance when one is trying to bring the spheres together instead demanding they don’t move and are left to be what they are. Where you see inconsistency, contradiction and arbitrariness we see paradox, tension and, well, the complications that come with being at once a sinner and saint. That really isn’t too unlike what it means to be simply human, with various demands that need to be sorted out each day and that nagging feeling that not everything was neatly resolved at day’s end.
But you also have to remember that we are also triadalists. Remember the Venn analogy? There is a common sphere. It’s so vast most seem to forget they inhabit it. What you seem to be holding us to is being Fundamentalists who radically separate the spheres such that ne’er the twain shall meet or admit that special revelation is necessary to general revelation. But that’s the leading edge to liberalism where the spheres melt into each other.
But I feel your pain. 2K is not the default setting. It’s hard work. I recognize myself in your slogging through it.
No fits here.
But I don’t buy it.
Consider: let’s take at face value “2K is perfectly at ease with inconsistencies, contradictions, and arbitrariness, because it recognizes that we live in the midst of paradox.”
I’m perfectly fine with this.
But now consider W2K criticisms of others. As I pointed out above, the problem is that if anyone expresses the paradox, immediately he is shoved into an extreme group. So for example, if I express that Scripture does not permit a clean separation between public and private, then all of the sudden I’m a busybody.
(Not personally offended — I’m just pointing out the issue re: myself because I know my own views best. I could speak comfortably about either Frame or Bill Davis also).
That suggests to me that far from being comfortable with paradox, you want purity. And in fact, you say as much: “I have to admit that you rightly perceive that 2K/SOTC confronts fairly stridently the human default setting. But that seems pretty consistent with the narrowness, exclusivity, intolerance and counter-intuitive nature of Christianity in the first place, at least to my mind.”
I’m suggesting that if you’re *really* comfortable with paradox, then you’ll feel comfortable giving others space at being somewhere in between, without having to force them to be in a “neo-” or “paleo-” camp.
People really can believe that God’s word is normative for all of life, without believing that the Church ought to run the government. Heck, Calvin believed in two spheres and also thought that the magistrate ought to execute heretics. What kind of “pure” 2k theology is that?!
So my objection, I think then, is directed at the rhetoric rather than the concept, if I can take at face value that W2K admits overlap between the spheres. I just think that admission is at odds with the rhetorical strategy.
JRC
Jeff, the paradox and apparent inconsistency is not as arbitrary as you allege. If you start with the nature of church power and state power. Church power is ministerial and declarative. It ministers the word of God. The church bears the sword. They have different kinds of power and their jurisdictions are distinct. The church doesn’t rule over the civil courts or legislature. The same can be said for the state.
But then you have this trick situation of church member being in both the church and the state. This is the tension and paradox that 2k views address. It’s not always easy to sort this out. Mind you, it’s not even easy for Kuyperians and sphere sovereignty to negotiate the overlapping spheres of family and church.
The other thing that may be throwing you is the 2k distinction between matters that are holy, common and profane. These distinctions derive directly from the command to keep the Lord’s Day holy. Work that is otherwise fine during the week (common), is not fit for the Lord’s Day (holy), and so becomes illegitimate (profane) if performed on the Lord’s Day.
What the 2k view is doing is rejecting the absolute categories laid down either by theonomists, world-view thinking, or Frame’s biblicism that rejects all “dualisms” of any kind and tries to make the Lord Lord of everything equally. The Lordship of Christ works out differently in different persons, different days, different jurisdictions. 2k tries to respect and account for this diversity. Wolters and Frame, though, try to force everything into a Christian world view or the Bible applies to all of life shoe box.
Speaking of arbitrary, physicial heal thyself after claiming to be a theonomist but only personally.
Hm. I’ll need to chew further on the latest response. Certainly, I’ve never said it was easy to sort the spheres. However, I currently doubt that W2K is the only (theory) or even best (pragmatism) tool for doing so. I think you may be underestimating the power of Frame’s framework, for example, to sort out spheres by appeal to situational knowledge.
You may not think it consistent (I do), but it’s not arbitrary. God’s commands given to me are not equivalent to God’s commands given to others. By this, I don’t mean that God gives me special commands or anything, but rather that I am not held to account for the obedience of others.
In other words, God’s commands to me do not include, “Make sure that DGH obeys.” That’s why I don’t accept that my view entails busy-bodiness.
An example: in Eph. 5, Paul gives commands to husbands and wives. One of the annoyances of “Christian culture” is that men and women frequently take responsibility for each others’ commands. The husband demands respect and obedience from the wife; the wife, love and sacrifice from the husband.
Nonsense. The command to wives is given to the wives, not the husbands. And vice-versa. “Who are you to judge another man’s servant?”
So there’s nothing arbitrary about saying that I am bound by Scripture, but that I will not bind the conscience of another. It is a limitation principle that shares much in common with your notion of jurisdictions.
But speaking of jurisdiction, that principle looks different in my role as elder. So if we can form a point of contact here, it will be on the point of who has a right to bind consciences about what. But I think I can do that without denying that Scripture informs all of life.
And in fact, you think this also; else, why would you want to use Rom 13 and Matt 22.21 as the source for your meta-theory of Church-State relations? You crypto-transformationalist, you!
JRC
P.S. My limitation principle applies to this conversation also. Even though I am engaging and contesting W2K, in the end, I think you have the space and freedom to try to work out the difficult area of Church-State relations without needing my imprimatur. At the end of the day, if we still disagree, I won’t walk away muttering “Heretic!” I understand you’re trying to find wisdom about a hard issue that is not entirely clear in Scripture.
So my objection, I think then, is directed at the rhetoric rather than the concept, if I can take at face value that W2K admits overlap between the spheres. I just think that admission is at odds with the rhetorical strategy.
Jeff,
I think you’re getting a little winded. Given that these exchanges rest upon a series of objections on your part, I think it is fair to say that you, in point of fact, do not agree conceptually. If you did the rhetorical strategy wouldn’t bother you.
Again, let me try and pare this down to a simple question: do you think the Bible is necessary or relevant to making everything from a salad (trivial) to society (enduring)? I don’t. I think everything in that wingspan is temporal and the only book needed in “that most elegant” one called general revelation. Special revelation is what is needed to administer eternity, something we are programmed to yearn for but are completely paralyzed to effect.
Bill Clinton once used a thumbnail to determine one’s party devotion: if you think the 60s were mostly a good thing, you’re likely some form of Democrat; if you think the 60s were mostly a liability, likely some form of Republican. The thumbnail here is if you think the Bible has relevance for temporal purposes you are probably a form of theonomist; if you think its relevance is eternal, probably some form of 2Ker. Those are admittedly huge brush strokes, but that’s what a thumbnail is.
Jeff, you in your own office may not think you need to make sure that DGH obeys the law, but what about if you were a Christian magistrate? Isn’t that what started your objection to 2k thinking? Depending on how you answer Zrim’s question, if you think the Bible applies to all of life (as Frame does), and if you have jurisdiction as a magistrate over lots of those spheres of life, don’t you have an obligation to take your private theonomy public?
Also, my objection to Frame’s analysis, as well as other Kuyperian approaches, is an effort to make the Bible relevant to public life (see James Skillen as one example). What ends up happening so often, aside from applying the Bible in areas where I believe it does not apply (again a jurisdiction question), is that the real laws of the United States and the broader history of how we got those laws, from the Romans and Greeks on down through the West, receives little attention. But those laws are the ones that are binding on American, legislators, and jurists — not a biblical set of principles concocted by Reformed ethicists.
Not at all. We’ve gone back and forth between “OK, I admit that the public and private spheres overlap” and back to “special revelation is only relevant to eternity.” I’m just trying to get you to either lay out a consistent statement, or else explain why you are allowed to be inconsistent while demanding consistency from others.
But I think it is time to move on, lest we get wrapped around an axle here.
JRC
Perhaps but not necessarily. Could it not also be the case that applying Scripture to life as a magistrate could include granting freedom to others to make their own decisions? Or some of them? For example, I could conceive of a case for splitting out first table/second table issues on that basis. Or differentiating between “restraining evil” and “requiring good.”
JRC
Jeff, what possible hermeneutic would allow you to take some verses as guidance for magistracy but not others only two or three away? Is there a Bible verse that says that? Or are you relying on your own wisdom?
As for consistency, maybe the point of 2k is to recognize the paradoxical relationship between salvation and politics, between the city of God and the city of man, that what happens in the latter is not a sign of what’s happening in the former. If that’s the case, and I think it is, then inconsistency is par for the 2k course. It is also par for the Lordship or theonomic course. You can’t make the two cohere directly. So pointing out your inconsistency is only a form of trying to make you see the paradoxical relationship. Bottom line: if you think there’s a consistent position, you have lost sight of the way God is operating on two tracks — one of creation and providence, the other of redemption. And not to be missed, the former serves the latter whether creatures know it or not.
Jeff,
It may be that you have an over-realized premium for consistency.
But I will lay out something irreproachably consistent once you tell me how to reconcile the fifth commandment (”honor your parents”) with Matthew 10:34-37 (”Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to turn “‘a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law–a man’s enemies will be the members of his own household.’ Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”) And how do you reconcile the high demands place on marriage by Jesus with the fact that the very institution will be dissolved in the next age?
That doesn’t seem very consistent to me. In fact, it looks like God is, as DGH suggests, working on two tracks that simply do not harmonize well to the eye. If God can do that why can’t we?
OK. If we’re all allowed to be inconsistent, then I can be at peace with that.
JRC
Jeff, I think the point is that we must be inconsistent, not that we may be.
…and we must be inconsistent for the right reasons.
This is a very interesting point. I’ll want to chew on it for a while. Off the cuff, I think you are right to call for a closer examination of where our laws come from, and also for a high degree of respect or discretion given to the magistrate, no matter the state of his soul.
I think you mean that while inconsistency is inevitable, not all inconsistencies are allowed. And that is fine. But in saying so, you have taken on yourself a higher burden of proof. Arguments of the form, “You’re being inconsistent, and therefore wrong”, are now off the table. All of the (apparent) inconsistencies that you have hammered on in others’ positions can now be met with a shrug.
So you’ll have to spell out the kinds of inconsistencies that are and are not acceptable. Or to quote someone famous,
Which means that we have to have some idea of what those right reasons are.
—
Let’s sum up at this point.
I’ve objected that W2K calls for a total separation of public and private spheres, when in fact the separation of the two spheres is not sustainable Biblically.
To my surprise, you two immediately agreed with the latter while denying the former.
In your view, the co-mingling of the spheres is inevitable, and requires careful sorting out of the public and private. This leads to inescapable paradox.
In my view, this is an acceptable proposal and one that ought to be consistent with all manner of middle positions, ones which neither require absolute separation of public and private nor yet complete overlap of the two.
However, if co-mingling is inevitable, then your criticisms the positions of others are rendered less intelligible: why are their inconsistencies unacceptable, but yours acceptable? And why are you so wedded to the method of reductio in putting your objections forward?
The response is (implicitly) that your inconsistencies are for the right reasons.
Intuitively, my sense is that triadalism is the “marker” that you use to distinguish between acceptable and unacceptable co-minglings.
So there it rests. For my part, I think this is an area where you bear a greater burden of exposition. At some point, you’ll have to get out of the mode of “posing tricky problems” and into the mode of showing the rest of us exactly How to Carefully Sort the Public and Private.
If you gentlemen would like to add anything, or if I’ve erred in my summary, feel free; else, I’ll move to Obj 3.
JRC
Jeff,
I don’t have anything to add, etc., but I do want to get a straight answer to a simple question I posed at least twice but don’t think I received an answer: is the Bible necessary and/or relevant to any temporal enterprise?
Wait. I do have something:
I think this is an area where you bear a greater burden of exposition. At some point, you’ll have to get out of the mode of “posing tricky problems” and into the mode of showing the rest of us exactly How to Carefully Sort the Public and Private.
1. I still don’t understand why we are burdened in such a way while God can get away with telling us at once to honor our parents and that he came to set us against them.
2. You are assuming an onus onto 2K/SOTC that it never presumes for itself. Theonomists want to show the rest of us exactly how the private and public swallow up each other. 2K just wants to say that is a thing that ought not to be done. We don’t have a plan.
“Any” or “every”? For we agree, at least, that Rom. 13 is relevant to the temporal enterprise of being a citizen. And presumably, the 7th commandment is relevant to the temporal enterprise of being a prostitute.
But if you mean “every”, then I would answer: the norms of Scripture are always “on” for a Christian. Those norms may restrict liberty in some cases and permit liberty in others. So some temporal enterprises — say, being a burger-flipper — might have so many degrees of freedom that the norms of Scripture might not be frequently obviously relevant. But the norms don’t disappear because of that; they simply recede into the background.
In some circumstances, a Christian burger-flipper may have to think about stealing, or working as unto the Lord, or loving neighbor as self, or executing his calling to the glory of God. And in such circumstances, the norms come into the foreground; and at those moments, the burger flipper should think Christianly and not commonly.
And in fact, I think that’s what Heb. 5.14 is getting at: “But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.”
Because you’re not God.
But seriously, W2K is a meta-theory about governance. As such, it limits the freedom of Christians who engage in the public sphere — Christians are not free to co-mingle the spheres. A central principle of Reformed theology has always been that restrictions of liberty require a high burden of proof from Scripture.
It strikes me then that W2K will be at a decided disadvantage to other theories that *do* have a plan. That doesn’t make it wrong; it just makes it harder for you.
You’re in the uncomfortable position of declaring a paradox (understandable) and also casting people adrift to sort out the paradox without any guiding principles — except “don’t co-mingle the spheres” and “keep the Church spiritual” (also understandable, given your desire to not regulate), while at the same time admitting that the private and public spheres don’t actually have zero overlap.
JRC
Jeff, it feels like we’re back to square one when you say that the 2k view (I really think you’re being uncharitable and unbiblical to keep inserting the “W”) limits the freedom of Christians to engage the public square with the Bible or biblical ethics. What the 2k view is saying that the Bible itself limits the Christian. The Bible is the book of God’s people. The public square in our time intermingles God’s people and non-God’s people. To apply the Bible to people who don’t believe the Bible is to do something unbiblical. It is hard to find anywhere in Scripture where the Israelites or Christians when in exile insisted the non-covenanted regime adopt the laws of the Covenant without actually subscribing the Covenant.
Again, this is why I think even your personal theonomy is wrong because I believe you misread the Bible and its authority over different groups of people.
And we should be clear about the apparent inconsistency of the 2k view. It’s inconsistency stems from the in-between-times, when God’s people are in two cities, with two different jurisdictions. The people who want consistency keep wanting to inaugurate the eschaton and collapse those jurisdications — so that the Bible applies to plumbing, farming, baking and governing. One day those jurisdictions will be one. The Bible says as much. But the Bible also says we’re not there yet.
I don’t see why that 2k view should be so unacceptable to other Christians, except if they’ve caught the Corinthian theology of glory bug.
Jeff,
Actually, it’s not all that hard or uncomfortable to not sign up for the latest “take over or transform the world” seminar. It’s a cinch to just participate instead, fun too.
Lest I just start repeating myself since, as DGH suggests, we seem back to square one, perhaps you should move on to objection three.
I apologize! I stopped using “R2K” by request and was intending “W2K” as a neutral term to describe “the version of 2K theology taught at WSC.”
What term would you prefer, given that there is not one single version of 2K theology?
—
Well, because it seems like you’re telling me to ignore Scriptural norms when I am engaged in common activities. And that appears to be a betrayal of Christ: “If you love me, keep my commandments.” For you, there is no distinction between a Christian who is personally obligated to Scriptural norms and a Christian who demands that everyone else keep Scriptural norms.
But then you aren’t telling me that; but then again, you are. So it’s all really confusing. And when I ask for clarity, I’m told that there is no clarity to be had.
“Do not try and bend the norms. That’s impossible. Instead, only try to realize the truth.
“What truth?
“There are no norms.
“There are no norms?
“Then you’ll see, that it is not the norms that bend, it is only your jurisdiction.”
There’s something wrong when a reasonably bright guy can’t make heads nor tails of your system.
JRC
Jeff: Apology accepted.
It does seem that we are back to square one. It seems that the impasse is that you think I’m telling you you can’t consult Scripture. I’m not really saying that. What I’m saying is that you’ll look at Scripture for about 95% of the things you do in an average day and you’ll accomplish only 5% of those things because you still be looking in the Bible. I get up early to write, I turn on the radio, I make coffee, I feed the cat (Isabelle), I have breakfast while reading the New Republic . . .
Other than when I pray when I rise, and ask the Lord’s blessing on my food, where does the Bible tell me how to get up, turn on the radio etc. (I left out relieving my bladder).
Now, I fear you will come back with a host of texts to govern these matters. But if you do, I’m betting they will be of the most general kind and not directly relevant.
Our days are filled with such activities. Even my vocation, which is mainly writing history, is not governed by Scripture. I tried. I attempted a Reformed world view of historiography and it was a dud, not at all helpful for what I do in the ordinary work of history. Does that mean that I give up a belief in providence, in the laws of nature, in some kind of core of human nature, in a linear conception of historical development? No. But none of those things tell me what the biblical meaning is of Daniel Coit Gilman’s twenty-five year tenure as Johns Hopkins University’s first president.
I understand that lots of believers are predisposed to believe the Bible tells them about every jot and tittle of their lives, and so if you were to go out and stump for your view, you’d get bigger crowds than I. But I’d hope your booth was situated over near the snake oil salesman because your apparent idea that the Bible speaks to everything is not far removed from that salesman. (Don’t take this personally. I was on a roll and liked the analogy.)
Jeff,
I’d suggest that maybe you’re a dog-person since cat-people (like DGH) don’t make sense to dog-people. But I’m a dog-person, so there goes that theory. So how about trying some Catholic-people?
http://deregnisduobus.blogspot.com/2009/03/paradox-of-parallel-passions.html
Not personally taken. So what term can I use that is not offensive, but does convey a distinction between the species of 2K theology taught at WSC and the general family of 2K theologies?
That was my sole intent with “W2K.”
—
It seems to me that a view that sees a gradient (as I’ve described) could accommodate your view by saying that Scriptural norms are in the background, or at a low level of restrictiveness, for many of our activities. In other words, instead of drawing a bright line between sacred and common activities, we might instead think in degrees of liberty.
Thus, I might say that a Christian brushing his teeth might look very, very similar to a non-Christian because the norms of Scripture do not particularly restrict his activity — except when he squeezes the tube from the middle (again!) in despite of his wife.
—
It’s interesting to me that your take on historiography is at odds with Marsden’s, who sees Christians “doing history the secular way” as an implicit acceptance of non-Christian modes of thought.
I would imagine that you have vigorously contested Marsden’s view at some point, yes?
JRC
The middle paragraph has a specific mathematical meaning in my mind, and it may not be clear. So let me try an analogy.
At the atomic level, objects like “table” and “computer” are not distinct. Instead, we have atoms that experience interatomic forces with each other. What keeps the table, “the table”, instead of merging into the computer, is that the interatomic forces within the computer and within the table are a couple of orders of magnitude larger than the interatomic forces between the computer’s atoms and the table’s atoms.
In other words, everything sticks; everything is fuzzy; but at the end of the day, distinguishing the two objects makes sense because the forces within each object are so much greater than the forces between the two, that the sticking is negligible. I pick up the computer off of the table, and a negligible (but not zero!) number of atoms from the table stick to the computer.
You say, OK, why care?
Because under certain circumstances, the forces are no longer negligible. Here are two:
(1) If I slide the computer across the table, the sticking forces between the two show up as friction between the two, which is a real, measurable (and sometimes painful!) effect.
(2) If I replace the computer with a Jello computer, the atoms in the Jello have significant forces of attraction for the table. Thus, when I pick up the Jello computer again, I will lose a noticeable portion of the computer to the table. The object loses its integrity because it the “intra-object” forces keeping it together are of the same magnitude as the “inter-object” forces attracting it to the table.
NOW to the Christian brushing his teeth.
If we think of liberty as being on a gradient, with Scripture at times entirely circumscribing (0% liberty) and at times saying nothing direct at all (close to 100% liberty), then we can construct situations that look like your description of “common” — Scripture does not constrain the brushing of teeth. There are no forces to direct my teeth-brushing.
But change the circumstances, and the nature of the forces change. If my wife is amazingly particular about the direction of tooth-brush-squeezing (she’s not!), then the part of love is to squeeze from the bottom. The command to love the neighbor constrains my liberty.
Could you imagine such a view as being compatible with yours?
JRC
Jeff: Thanks for being a good sport with my ad hominem analogy. I don’t do emoticons. So sometimes humor comes across as invective. Sometimes they’re mixed.
I have actually responded to Marsden, even though George and I are good friends and he hired me for a post-doc right out of grad school. The project on which I was working was the secularization of American higher education. His book out of that was The Soul of the American University. I also got a book out of it, a little later, The University Gets Religion. It is a pretty different take on the issues involved in relating faith and intellectual life. Ironically, it was George’s generosity that gave me the chance to study the topic and disagree with the hand that fed me.
For a direct critique of Marsden and Noll (also a friend and a benefactor of sorts) see a piece I wrote in the 2000 Christian Scholars Review, an article that sent the neo-Calvinists ballistic. I’ll give away one point — why is H. Richard Niebuhr, a liberal Protestant, basically approaching Christ and culture the way Kuyper, an orthodox Calvinist, does? Does the anti-thesis mean nothing.
On squeezing the toothpast tube, Jeff, man up. Tell your wife to submit. Kidding mainly. But why wouldn’t Eph. 5 apply to that situation? Which sort of proves the point, that our consciences and vocations and circumstances vary. So the indirect Bible references to which we appeal will not be uniform or consistent — making it really hard to get a “Thus saith the Lord” on either toothpaste distribution or wife-loving.
Tricky one, that. In general, it’s her job to submit, not my job to tell her to submit. But then again, if it becomes an issue in the marriage, then it does become my job — but not on every little issue.
So you see, the whole question of liberty and norms is not a jurisdictional one, split across common and sacred. Instead, it transcends each jurisdiction.
Speaking of: when you pray tomorrow, remember my wife, who is going to visit ailing family.
Thanks,
Jeff
P.S. I’m holding off on #3 until I can get a reasonable name to replace “W2K.”
Jeff, I fear you’ve read too much Frame. He has a habit of discovering that ideas and arguments are not tidy, and so it is possible to make arguments and ideas even messier because they weren’t clean to begin with. Drama in worship? Well, a play is sort of like a sermon in certain ways, even dramatic, so go ahead, bring in all three acts.
If you would squeeze the tube of liberties and norms at the end, rather than the middle, you’d find that some jurisdictions are firmer than your affinity for fuzziness supposes. Will they always stay in place? No. Life is not mechancial. But if you begin to keep the Bible as the church’s sole norm, the church’s jurisdiction as ministerial and declarative (and extending to her officers and members), and allow that in vocations and secular life believers have diverse responsibilities and talents, you might get the norms and liberties you need and be able to keep the rest in the medicine cabinet.
Jeff,
I don’t know much about jello computers, and I’m not real clear on what toothpaste squeezing has to do with much of this, but I wonder if you’re beginning to broach a form of what I call the totem pole syndrome. One will hear believers speak of their vocational commitments as if they fall somewhere along a rigid and legalistic spectrum (e.g. “God, family, work, leisure”). The problem with the syndrome is that, first, it places godly devotion as an equal amongst many instead of seeing Christ’s lordship as over all things, that at some point devotion to God can be put on hold, and finally it also tends to betray and nurture an individualistic pietism. Second, and more to the point, it doesn’t take into account the reality that sometimes family trumps work, sometimes work trumps family, etc. In the real life I live my vocations are in constant (constant!) flux and different situations call for different attention spans.
And from what I observe this is true for everyone, even those who invoke the totem pole, even those who say the Bible is relevant and necessary to all of life. It’s not too unlike the point that theonomists (of any variety) actually live like 2Kers.
Nope.
Look guys, is there any reason you aren’t willing to supply a name for the species of 2K thought taught at WSC? I don’t want to be offensive, so I don’t want to use “W2K” if it causes offense.
But I need some noun to work with here. How about “The view formerly known as W2K?” That’s nice and snappy.
JRC
Jeff,
Well, I tried. I wasn’t sure what to do with the jello computers and toothpaste stuff, but most who think the Bible speaks to all of life instead of much more narrowly also seem prone to totem pole. So you’d agree that our vocational commitments are a series of competing loyalties whose tensions are not easily resolved? If so, what gives with the incessant need for consistency and allergy against paradox?
Re labels, I’m not personally averse to that particular dubya. It may not roll of the fingers, but I’ve taken a bit of shine lately to 2K/SOTC–sort of a hybrid of Lutheran/Reformed nomenclature. Still seems easier than going all Prince up in here.
The ethno-cultural school of American political historians, when writing on the phenomenon of high church Protestants and how they viewed society differently from evangelicals (i.e. revival friendly Protestants) called the 2k view liturgical or confessional, and the other side, pietist. I still think those categories work even if liturgical spooks too many low-church Presbyterians who otherwise affirm the spirituality of the church, and even if confessional sounds too much like creedal or doctrinal. What both are trying to get at is a churchly form of Protestantism that takes its cues for the direction of history and the meaning of human existence from the workings of redemption and the ministry of the church, not from social progress or political reform.
So how about Reformed Ecclesial Political Theology? REPT.
Yes, I agree. Go back and re-read my (incessant?!) comments not as a plea for purity, but as a push-back against the syllogism:
Non-2k-ers are not pure in their non-2k-ness
Therefore, they ought to just give in and admit that 2k is right.
I think you’ll find that my Obj 2 makes more sense in that light.
Works for me.
JRC
Obj 3: REPT drives an unnecessary wedge between philosophy and theology.
Here I should qualify carefully. First, I am only speaking to my experience. It may be that in the larger world, REPT advocates are building bridges to Christian philosophers. Second, philosophy is not the queen of the sciences or anything; I’m not arguing that it should have prominence.
But in my experience, REPT has a tendency to cut itself off from fruitful engagement with philosophy.
At a superficial level, one might point to the tendency to dismiss Christian philosophers such as Frame or Davis; or to DGH’s quip that philosophy has been given too much prominence over history in theology (and yes, I’m aware that Frame has complained in reverse).
Those are interesting divisions, and possibly cause for concern. After all, why would we want to divide up into neo-Corinthian camps like that? However, they are only surface issues.
I’m after something larger: REPT could benefit from a more robust engagement with philosophy. It appears insufficiently cogent because it does not acknowledge the concerns raised by philosophers.
Here are two examples.
Zrim, you’ve mentioned the Venn diagram twice now in connection with triadalism. That caught my attention, since Venn diagrams are commonly used both in mathematics and philosophy; the first being my profession and the second my avocation. You said:
Venn diagrams simply don’t work in this way. In a Venn diagram, the area in the middle consists of genuine overlap — all of the elements that partake of both properties. Using your sets, the overlap would have to consist of people that had both the property of being unbelievers and also believers; of being under judgment and under redemption, at the same time. We agree that this is impossible.
(In fact, in the classic Venn diagram, the things that partake of neither set of properties is the area outside both circles.)
Now, I’m not making a criticism of form, as if making a math error is a mortal sin.
Rather, the math error is related to the deeper concern about triadalism: What picture can we draw of the Christian in the “common” realm? Is he, or isn’t he, subject to God’s Law? etc.
I think we’ve hashed out that latter question as much as we can for now, so I don’t want to raise it again!
Rather, I want to point out that in this area, the expertise of a professional math educator (*coff*) ought to have counted for something. But it didn’t. It was dismissed.
No offense taken, mind; I’ve certainly earned my share of chutzpah points by challenging Dr. Hart here. And I don’t really care if you believe me personally.
But I think it could be really profitable if you could step back and ask, “If I really can’t represent triadalism as a Venn diagram, then how can I represent it?” And one of two things could then happen: (a) the explanation of REPT could be sharpened so as to be more persuasive to Christians who are willing to listen but concerned about some issues (me!), or (b) a real flaw in REPT could be exposed and remedied.
Either way, REPT wins from a robust engagement with symbolic logic.
I’m being very personal with those comments, so forgive me if I’ve overstepped a bound.
—
Second example: I’ve hinted before that there are features about American 21st century society that make REPT more challenging. I don’t subscribe to the view that society is always headed to hell in a handbasket. I would much rather live here, now, than in Germany in 1942 or in 942 for that matter.
But the prevailing view of governance in America is currently dominated by utilitarian ethics. As you know, this is the view that the Right Thing to Do is to bring the greatest good to the greatest number. “Greatest good” has been variously defined — J.S. Mill defined good as the presence of genuine pleasures and the absence of pain, but the most influential version today is “preference utilitarianism,” popularized by Peter Singer. For PU, the “good” is the satisfaction of preferences, whatever those happen to be. So that if, hypothetically, we had a preference calculator (read: voting booth), we could determine the Right Thing to Do simply by adding up satisfied and unsatisfied preferences, and choosing the course with the most total satisfaction.
There are philosophical problems with PU, but it currently holds sway in the halls of power, in academia, and in popular media (though Aristotelian “virtue ethics” is attempting a revival of sorts).
Here’s the problem: Preference Utilitarianism is a jealous god.
(1) For the PU-ian, there are no norms at all.
In PU, “ethical norms” serve only as guidelines for the average man so that he can satisfy preferences without having to think too hard. But in reality, there are no norms; and attempting to establish norms is positively wrong, since the norm might well not satisfy preferences under some situation or another.
So the Christian in the common sphere who attempts to reason from Natural Law will serve only the role of “useful idiot” — when Natural Law and PU agree, the Christian’s agreement will serve to establish the validity of PU. When Natural Law and PU disagree, then PU wins and the Christian is wrong for trying to erect a norm.
(2) PU is totalitarian.
Neither the U.S. Constitution (motto: “living document!”) nor the Church is a haven against the self-righteousness of the PU-ian who can cheerfully change the laws — no norms, remember? — so as to tax the Church, or demand that Christians call gay couples “married” if the couples so wish, or even judge God as wrong for making people suffer in Hell instead of forgiving them unconditionally.
Here is one amusing-but-real example of the totalitarian nature of PU.
(3) PU is incompatible with Christian ethics.
This seems odd, since utilitarians from Mill to Fletcher to Singer have all appealed to the principle of Utility as a simple extension of Jesus’ Golden Rule.
But in fact, Christian ethics is centered in covenant loyalty, hesed. For the utilitarian, there is no personal loyalty. If your child is in the burning building, and the cancer researcher whose unpublished work could save millions is in the burning building, then the PU-ian demands that you save the cancer researcher first. No relationships — only the relentless calculation of preferences.
To use the language of philosophy, Christians and Preference Utilitarians might agree on (many) ethical precepts, but they completely disagree on meta-ethics. Far from having overlap, they have incompatible views on what makes right, right and wrong, wrong.
—
In light of this situation, it becomes impossible for a Christian to go to work, adopt the “common” mindset of preference utilitarianism, with all it entails, and then return to Church and worship God. Unlike, perhaps, the situation in the 18th century when Natural Law in some form still made sense, the “common” way of going about decision-making in the 21st century is positively anti-Christian. We live in a situation in which the City of Man has made war on the City of God, and the part of wisdom is to be aware of the danger and resist it, not to make common cause with it.
This does not mean that I advocate rebellion; the form of our government is still, nominally, the rule of law under the Constitution. And I can uphold that.
But the underlying mechanism of our government is really direct democracy anymore: the satisfaction of preferences via the voting booth. (Anyone noticed the current administration’s tactics of going directly to the people? The Republicans are kicking themselves for not thinking of it first.)
DGH, you’ve suggested that church involvement in social causes was the primary means of liberalization in the mainline denominations. I would complement that thesis with this one: The growing cultural adoption of utilitarianism made the Social Gospel plausible. It was no accident that “Situation Ethics” made a big splash in the mainline churches, much more quickly than in the academy. The mainline churches were already primed to accept Fletcher’s argument that “love” was “the greatest good for the greatest number.”
I think we need to be wise about the current state of “common” reasoning, and recognize that it is not compatible with either Natural Law reasoning nor direct reasoning from Scripture.
—
The main point here is that philosophy has some things to say about the wisdom of the REPT project, Whether my analysis is correct, or somewhat correct, or completely off-the-wall, it only makes sense for you guys to get input from the philosophers instead of holding them at arms’ length.
JRC