01 November, 2020

“Scriptural Realism,” “Idealism” and Irrationality

  

Herman Hoeksema (1886-1965)

  

[Source: The Standard Bearer, vol. 20, no. 9 (February 15, 1944), no. 10 (March 1, 1942) and no. 11 (March 15, 1944)]

 


(I)

 

Dr. Clarence Bouma, who informs us in Calvinalia, The Banner, Dec. 24, 1943, that he specialized in philosophy at the time when he was preparing himself for apologetics, in spite of this special preparation, appears to have special difficulty properly to evaluate any view that differs from his own.  And the result is, not only that those who disagree with him often become the victims of a pen-lashing administered by him, instead of receiving appreciative, sympathetic, and properly-motivated criticism, but also that the criticism he does offer is frequently vague and besides the point.

 

A fair example of the pen-lashing, breathing a spirit of intolerance, I consider the editorial on “Wilson and Roosevelt Vindicated,” in the Calvin Forum of December last.  And a striking illustration of his failure to understand and properly to evaluate a view he criticizes, one may find in the January number of the same paper.  I refer to the following paragraph:

 

Nor is a truly realistic approach found by many who repudiate Modernism and Barthianism both.  The “orthodox” are ever in danger of an unrealistic approach to the truth of the Word of God, though their distortion is orientated quite differently.  The denial of common grace by some and the dreaming of Judaistic-chiliastic dreams by others—all of them very “orthodox”—is but another form of idealism run rampant for lack of integration with a truly biblical realism.  These differ from the modernists in that their idealistic, optimistic onesidedness is not grounded in the belief in the inherent goodness of man in his present state (as was the case with the humanist and modernist), but in a divorce between the wicked world and the ideal as God sees it and as it will be realized only among the elect, whether on earth or ultimately in the future.  There lies an essential Anabaptism at the bottom of the denial of common grace as well as at the base of all Dispensationalism.  When the true realism of the Scriptures is not grasped, a distorted form of Christianity results also among the orthodox.

 

Now we may, first of all, observe that all these sweeping statements, by which we, who believe that what Dr. Bouma conceives to be the true realistic view of the present world is a pure dream, are classified as Anabaptists, who present “a distorted form of Christianity,” that is, besides, characterized by an “idealistic, optimistic onesidedness,” and that is, moreover, “grounded in a divorce between this wicked world and the ideal as God sees it,”—that all these sweeping generalities are offered by the editor of Calvin Forum with absolutely nothing to support them but the authority of the writer, which may have weight with himself, but means nothing to us, and should have no significance for the readers of his paper.  However, let us examine them somewhat more closely.

 

The heart of the matter appears to be that Dr. Bouma ascribes to us a view that fails to understand and to evaluate properly this present wicked world, and that separates it from the ideal world as God sees it.  And all this is supposed to be due to our denial of common grace.

 

But reading this, and bearing in mind that this is written with the tacit assumption that Dr. Bouma’s conception of the relation between the present world and the ideal “as God sees it,” is certainly the only correct view, one cannot help but wonder what his conception of this relation may be.

 

We may assume that by “the ideal as God sees it,” he means the ideal world as it will be realized in the future.  It also appears rather certain that he has in mind the ideal of the new creation that is to come after the parousia, for he writes: “as it will be realized only among the elect.”  It is, therefore, the ideal of “special grace,” to speak in Dr. Bouma’s terms, that he has in mind.  Now, it is not entirely correct—in fact, not at all correct—that we divorce this present from that world to come.  Dr. Bouma may know better than that, and, as a professor of apologetics, he ought to state the views of those whom he wants to criticize correctly before he offers his criticism.  But we conceive of this relation thus: that the “ideal as God sees it,” can be realized from and through this present world, not by way of gradual development, but only by the Wonder of grace.  And one is rather curious to know how, as a Reformed man, Dr. Bouma can possibly have a different conception of this relation.  Really, this is a very important question, and Dr. Bouma, if he has some new light on this point, could do Reformed theology a service if, instead of writing in high-sounding phrases on the proper realistic approach and telling everyone that differs with him where he errs, would inform us about his own conception of the relation between the present world and the world to come.

 

Strictly speaking, “common grace” runs dualistically alongside of the line of “special grace,” according to Dr. Bouma’s conception, unless he is of the opinion that our modern “culture” and its products—our science and art, our automobiles and airplanes, our telephone and radio, our tanks and guns and bombs—are to be carried into the New Jerusalem.  The “common grace” ideal is strictly different from the “ideal as God sees it, as it will be realized only among the elect.”  It is the realization of the original creation ordinance.  Hence, I may safely say that his common grace theory cannot help him to develop a proper conception of the relation between the present world and the world to come.  The former is surely going to be utterly destroyed in the final world-fire.  And it is only the Wonder of grace that can save God’s world out of the present world.

 

Of course, I know that Dr. Bouma believes in the philosophy of common grace.  And I can very well understand how this changes and distorts his view of the reality of the present world and its culture.  He certainly has a different conception of the efforts of certain “Christian gentlemen” than I have.  But this is not to be attributed to the fact that I do not grasp “the true realism of Scripture,” but rather to the fact that Dr. Bouma wears the colored spectacles of the common grace philosophy, the result of which is, not only that he cannot grasp “the true realism of Scripture,” but also that he has a distorted view of reality of present day history, the trend and significance of which are otherwise sufficiently plain to all that are able to willing to see.

 

 

 

(II)

 

Recently, as our readers will recall, the editor of The Banner wrote about a hymn and a latch.  In the issue of Jan. 14 he devotes an editorial to “a narrow bridge.”

 

That narrow bridge is the truth.  “He who would know the truth must walk on this narrow bridge.  On either side is a deep abyss from which there is no return.”

 

Although the editor informs us that this figure of speech is derived from an old Arab story, the phraseology reminds one rather strongly of Barth and his dialectic performances.  We say this without even remotely intending to accuse the editor of The Banner of any form of Barthianism.  Only the similarity is striking.  Barth prefers to think dialectically.  In fact, it is the only way one can think about God.  And he loves to illustrate this dialectic method by referring to the figure of a man walking on a knife-edge mountain ridge, on which he must continue to walk, and cannot stand still, lest he fall into the abyss on the right or on the left.  And not only is there a striking similarity in the figures employed by the editor of The Banner and Karl Barth, but also the actual method of thinking about God recommended by the former is similar to that of the latter.  Barth thinks dialectically.  He always moves on between the Yea and the Nay, and remembers that the truth lies beyond both in God, the only Yea and Amen.  We can state the truth only in the form of question and answer, and always in such a way that the answer contains a question; or in the form of a dialogue, with the two sides opposing each other; a conflict.  Somewhat similar to this is the method the editor of The Banner recommends to us in thinking about the matter of salvation.  He speaks in the form of a conflict.  The matter of salvation is Yea and Nay, and, therefore, it is neither absolutely Yea, nor absolutely Nay.  And the editor would have us walk on the “narrow bridge” of these dialectics in order to abide in the truth.  On the one hand, there are those that insist on saying only Nay, and they fall into the abyss on the one side of the bridge; on the other hand, some would say only Yea, with the result that they plunge into the abyss on the other side.  We must be careful, however, to remain on the bridge, and balancing ourselves by constantly saying Yea and Nay, keeping ourselves from dashing headlong into the abyss, “from which there is no return.”

 

Let me explain.

 

In the article referred to above, the editor first says Yea.  And we like to hear him say that, even from the depth of the abyss into which we have plunged according to him.  For when he says that, he is soundly Reformed, leaves the latch on the outside, and condemns the Arminians that are singing their hymns in the abyss opposite from us.  Just listen to this:

 

Our contention is that the latch is on the outside.  No person who is Reformed in his creed and holds that the gospel of “sovereign grace” believes otherwise.  Our doctrinal standards stress that man is by nature an enemy of God, not subject to the law of God, neither able to be (Rom. 8:7); that he is unwilling to believe and be saved unless Christ first makes him willing by sending the Holy Spirit into his heart to regenerate; in other words, that Christ must open the door to the sinner’s heart, take possession of it, and awaken a true saving faith.  He who puts the sinner’s act of faith before God’s act of regeneration—a doctrine clearly contradicted by what we read of in Acts about Lydia, namely, that God opened her heart in order that she might give heed to the message of Paul—makes the work of the sinner, rather than of God, primary in salvation.  Such a one can not consistently say that we love God because he first loved us; that we sought him because he first sought us.

 

And we, from the depth of our abyss, when we hear him thus pronounced his Yea, shout our Amen of agreement; and from the other side of the bridge, in the Arminian abyss, we hear loud exclamations of protest about this “deluded minister” on the bridge, that goes “haywire” about election.

 

But, alas! No sooner did we express our agreement, but we hear acclamations of great joy from the depth of the Arminian abyss, for now they hear the “walker-on-the-bridge” speak his Nay!  For hear him:

 

Now, all this is but one side of the gospel.  There is another side which the Scriptures stress not less strongly, namely, that the offer of salvation comes to all who hear the gospel, to the reprobate as well as to the elect.  We must hold to both sides if we would preserve our balance on the narrow bridge of truth.

 

And all this would not be so serious, if the editor merely meant that the gospel is preached promiscuously to all, and that the “call to faith and repentance comes to every person who hears the message of salvation,” if the editor would only explain that according to the good pleasure of God this preaching is a savor of death unto death to the reprobate, as well as a savor of life unto life for the elect.  But this he does not mean, neither believe, still less teach.  On the contrary, what he now means is the very opposite of what he first taught, viz., that God seriously wills the salvation of all men, and well-meaningly offers it to them, which is in full accord with what he wrote in a previous article, that although Christ does not plead with sinners to do what they cannot, what He alone can do, He does plead with them to repent and believe, implying that they can do the latter.  And that this is, indeed, his meaning, is sufficiently evident from his quotation of II Pet. 3:9 in this connection: “not wishing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.  And does the editor here purposely quote from the Revised Version, and prefer the weaker translation “wishing” to the better and stronger “willing”?  No doubt, the Revised Version had the Arminian interpretation of this passage in mind when they so translated it, for the original (boulomenos) does not usually mean “wishing” but “willing deliberately.”

 

And does not the author of The Banner know that Reformed men never interpret that passage in this Arminian sense?

 

I might offer him my own exegesis of this passage, but, lest he refuse to listen to a voice out of the abyss into which he beholds us as hopelessly precipitated, I will quote from the very exponent of “common grace” who, in his earlier days wrote about this passage as follows.  (I translate):

 

And to demonstrate this, I will, in regard to II Pet. 3:9, leave it to the judgment of my opponents themselves, whether they will accept the inner contradiction one must face if one makes this scriptural passage say what they put into it.

 

For about the context and the way of argumentation in II Pet. 3:9 there can be no difference of opinion. 

 

In this passage, all admit this, the only subject is the long tarrying of the return of the Lord upon the clouds.

 

The church of those days had long expected this return …

 

And when they were disappointed in this expectation, and one year after another passed by, without heaven being opened and the Lord descending, unstable souls in the church began to murmur and to ask whether what the apostles had told them was the truth, and whether they had not published as a promise of Jesus’ return what was, after all, only the product of their own imagination and therefore false prophecy.

 

Now, if in this connection and argumentation I insert the conception: “Ye yourselves, and not God, are the cause of this tarrying about which ye murmur.  For why do ye not hasten your repentance?  For this ye surely do know, that first the last of the elect must come to repentance before that day can come”—then the whole argument runs perfectly smoothly, the chain of thought is unbroken, and everyone understands why and for what purpose the apostle employs exactly these terms.

 

But note now, how all this is lost, and the sense becomes completely unintelligible, if I, for other reasons, try to carry the idea of common grace into this passage.

 

Then I must come to the following unreasonable argumentation: “Jesus cannot come as yet, for the will of God must be fulfilled, and, according to this will, all men must first come to repentance!”

 

But … if Jesus cannot return before all men have come to repentance, then He will never come!

 

For, in the first place, thousands upon thousands have already died without repentance, for whom this postponement of Jesus’ return is of no avail.

 

Secondly, there are millions upon millions that will die tomorrow, or the day after, or next year, without ever having heard of Jesus, for whom this postponement neither is any profit.

 

And finally, if God without fixing a definite number, constantly causes new men to be born, and if the return of Jesus must await until also these have come to repentance, the return of Jesus may be postponed indefinitely.  And this is the more serious, in view of the fact that the population of the world increases every day, and it becomes more probable all the time that not all men come to repentance.

 

Hence, this does not jibe.  This does not harmonize.  That is the most unreasonable argumentation conceivable; it has neither sense nor solution.

 

No, if I want to demonstrate why the Lord God, humanly speaking, fulfills the promise of Jesus’ return somewhat later than we had imagined, then this can become intelligible only if I start to figure from a definite starting point.

 

For if the number of men that must be born is determined, and if God knows for whom out of all men a place must be prepared in heaven,—then, indeed, I can understand perfectly well that Jesus cannot return until they all have been brought in; and then the process of thought is perfectly pure, clear and lucid, if I say: “God tarries, for there still are some unconverted of those that are elect, and God surely wills not that any, be they ever so few, shall be missing from the number of His elect, but that they all shall have come to repentance before Jesus appears …”

 

There is, therefore, nothing left of this objection, and the meaning of II Pet. 3:9 can be nothing else than this: “Jesus cannot return until the number of the elect is complete, and while there are at present still many elect that have not come to repentance, He postpones His coming in longsuffering, not willing that through His early coming some should perish, but willing that all shall first be converted.” 

 

(Uit Het Woord, IV, pp. 33-36)

 

Although we might, perhaps, follow another method of exegesis in some respect, the point Dr. Kuyper here makes is perfectly clear: All in II Pet. 3:9 does not denote all men head for head, but all the elect.

 

And the interpretation the editor of The Banner offers is the explanation of those who Dr. Kuyper in the above quotation opposes: the Arminians.

 

The editor makes his usual appeal to “mystery.”  And about this I hope to make a few closing remarks the next time, the Lord willing.

 

But in closing this time, I would like to point to a patent fact.

 

The editor of The Banner exhorts us to stay on the narrow bridge, and in his editorial, he supposedly gives us a demonstration how to accomplish this.

 

Instead, however, he tries to show how a man may perform the wonderful stunt of jumping off the bridge (as he presents it) on both sides, frantically and crazily hopping from one side to the other, and still stay on it.

 

I’d like to see a man perform that stunt on an actual bridge.

 

But neither can it be done on the “narrow bridge” of truth!

 

 

(III)

 

At the close of his article entitled “A Narrow Bridge,” the editor of The Banner makes the following remarks:

 

Let us not forget that though the truth of God is not irrational, it often transcends our reason.  There are many doctrines in Scripture which appear to be self-contradictory.  On that very ground the Unitarians deny the Trinity.  No believer in the Trinity has ever been able to show that it is in accord with human logic to believe that there are three distinct divine persons while there is only one divine being.  How many have plunged from the narrow bridge of truth because they could not harmonize the tri-personality with the unity of God and therefore rejected the first or the second!

 

Again, who can show that it is logical to believe that Jesus Christ is only one person, the Second Person of the holy Trinity, and yet has two natures, a human and a divine nature.  How many have sacrificed, in their thinking, the human nature to the divine or the divine to the human!  And as to the human nature of our Lord in the state of His humiliation, how impossible it is to maintain logically the absolute sinlessness of our Lord and His temptability at the same time!

 

We find ourselves in precisely the same kind of a predicament with respect to our conception on sinful man and of the way of salvation.  We accept, for example, the doctrine of total depravity but we also hold that the natural man by the common grace of God is able to perform some outward good.  Likewise, we believe in a particular atonement, but we also hold that there is a general offer of salvation and we plead with sinners to repent.  Again, we believe the doctrine of irresistible grace; we hold that a sinner’s heart must be opened by the Holy Spirit before he can believe; at the same time we summon him to faith and repentance and urge him to come to Christ.  All this sounds foolish to the man who applies the yardstick of human logic to divine truth.  It is not foolish to the man who accepts the Bible as the Word of God and believes that by the foolishness of the gospel God is pleased to save sinners.

 

Now I wish to state first of all that with the first sentence of the above quotation I wholeheartedly agree.

 

With emphasis, I would like to express agreement with the second clause of that sentence: the truth often transcends our reason.  And I may add that, ultimately, the truth always transcends our reason.  Of course!  How could it be different? The truth always concerns God, and God is the transcendent One, and as such He is the incomprehensible One.  It is the wonder of revelation that, while God makes Himself known to us, He at the same time causes us to discern clearly that we cannot comprehend Him.  And as one contemplates and searches this revelation of the infinite, he always confronts more inscrutable depths of mystery, which he can never fathom.  Nor does the believer have any spiritual or rational difficulty with those inscrutable mysteries of God which he knows and apprehends by faith, without ever comprehending them.  For, as the editor of The Banner admits, though they surpass our comprehension, they are not irrational.  Hence, in the measure and form that they are revealed to us, we know them, and in as far as they are incomprehensive, we worship and adore Him Whose depths they are, and Whom to know is life eternal.  To these mysteries certainly do belong the truths referred to above, that of the holy Trinity, and that of the unity of Christ’s Person in the divine and human natures.  And to these belong many other truths, and ultimately all truths, if we but make the attempt to fathom them.  We walk in mysteries.

 

But I want to emphasize also the first clause of the above quotation: “… the truth of God is not irrational.”  To say that the truth is irrational is to deny the possibility of all systematic theology, of all knowledge of God, of revelation itself, and virtually to assert that God Himself is irrational.  It is quite impossible for us, whom God created rational beings, to apprehend that which is irrational, i.e., contrary to reason.  Nor are the truths which the editor of The Banner mentions in the above paragraphs irrational.  To us it appears that he partially contradicts his statement that the truth is not irrational, when he writes: “No believer in the Trinity has ever been able to show that it is in accord with human logic to believe that there are three distinct divine persons while there is only one divine being.”  If the editor had written that no believer has ever been able to comprehend the tri-unity of God, we would have no objection, but we do object to his statement now.  If the doctrine of the Trinity is not in accord with human logic, it is irrational, and cannot be a doctrine.  Contrary to reason it would be, and impossible for faith to apprehend, if the doctrine of the Trinity implied that one is three and three are one in the same sense, i.e., that one being is three beings and three beings are one being.  But this is not the case.  And there is nothing contrary to reason, even though it may far transcend our boldest comprehension in the doctrine that God is one in being, and three in persons.  And the same is applicable to the unity of the divine Person of the Son of God in the two natures, the divine and the human.  Readily we admit that also this truth far transcends our comprehension, but there is nothing illogical or contrary to reason in the doctrine that the eternal Son of God, who subsists eternally in the divine nature, also assumed the human nature.

 

But when the editor in the rest of the above quotation tries to make us believe that this principle, that the truth is never irrational though it transcends our comprehension, is also applicable to and involved in his contention that the atonement is particular and the well-meaning offer of salvation on the part of God is general and universal, that God wills to save only the elect and that He nevertheless wills that all men shall be saved, that man is totally depraved and that yet he is able to do good works, we must most emphatically disagree with him.

 

The editor, let me point out, does not do justice to the doctrine which has been adopted by the Christian Reformed Churches in 1924, and which he also tries to present to his readers.  When, for instance, he writes: “Again, we believe the doctrine of irresistible grace; we hold that a sinner’s heart must be opened by the Holy Spirit before he can believe; at the same time we summon him to faith and repentance and urge him to come to Christ,” he does not state the matter quite correctly from the Christian Reformed viewpoint.  If no more is said, there need be no logical contradiction involved in the statement, for when we urge a sinner to come to Christ, we do so on the supposition that God will draw him, and that otherwise all our urging is absolutely vain.  But the editor should have stated the matter as follows: “We believe the doctrine of irresistible grace, which God gives only the elect, and yet we believe that God [not we—HH] offers this grace well-meaningly to those whom He does not want to save.”  That is the doctrine of the Christian Reformed Churches.  Briefly: God well-meaningly offers salvation to those whom He does not want to have it.  Still more briefly: God wills to save those whom He will not save.

 

Now, this is not a deep truth, but a very superficial untruth.  It does not transcend our reason, but its falsity and nonsense lies quite within the scope of our reason.  Its untruth is so superficial that a child can not fail to recognize it.  It is irrational, indeed, and, therefore, incapable of being accepted by the rational mind of the believer.  No one can possibly believe both sides of a directly contradictory statement, for the simple reason that by accepting the one he has already rejected the other.  Either God wills that all men shall be saved in the sense that He is earnestly desirous of the salvation of all men, and in accord with this it is to teach that He offers salvation well-meaningly to all, a salvation which Christ merited for all, and the acceptance of which is left to the will of man; or He wills that only the elect shall be saved, and in harmony with this is the Reformed doctrine of particular atonement, and of irresistible grace.  But both cannot be true.  And no man can possibly believe both.

 

And, therefore, as long as the editor of The Banner tries to inculcate this contradiction into the minds of his readers, his attempt to fight Arminianism in the Christian Reformed Churches will prove fruitless.  They will not believe both sides of the contradiction he proposes but accept one of them only.  And that will be the Arminian side, which is far more appealing to the flesh than the Reformed truth.

 

That this is true, the editor of The Banner cannot fail to ascertain for himself, if he will but turn on the radio and listen to some of the programs that are broadcast from Christian Reformed Churches and under their sponsorship as “Hour of Praise” programs.  Just recently I happened to listen to one of them, which, while the message delivered on that occasion was a sad mixture of modernism and Arminianism, was concluded by singing:

 

There’s a Stranger at the door, Let Him in;

He has been there oft before, Let Him in;

Let Him in, ere He is gone,

Let Him in, the Holy One,

Jesus Christ the Father’s Son, Let Him in.

 

Open now to Him your heart, Let Him in;

If you wait He will depart, Let Him in;

Let Him in, He is your friend,

He your soul will sure defend,

He will keep you to the end, Let Him in.

 

And all this while the editor of The Banner is pleading with his readers: “Beware of taking your doctrine from the gospel hymns …”

 

I would, therefore, earnestly invite the editor: come on the narrow bridge of the truth with us, brother, and refrain from your strange acrobatic stunts by which you attempt to jump off on both sides, and to stay on the bridge at the same time!

 

 


 

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