Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Clarifications (Under Fire), of St. Augustine's Eucharistic Doctrine, and a Counter-Challenge to Protestants Who Try to "Co-Opt" Him

The image “http://www.st-augustine.org/pics/saint-augustine.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.

"Sola Scriptura's" words will be in blue; my cited words will be in green.

This came about as a result of a vocal Protestant at the Catholic Answers forum (in the thread: "SPLIT: The Real Presence"). Randy Carson, a Catholic regular there, cited several of my papers, and then informed me of the thread. I then posted (through him) material from my older papers, and add now some largely new observations, since I've been challeged and the (almost inevitable) charge was made (by "Sola Scriptura") that I cited Protestant historians J.N.D. Kelly and Philip Schaff out of context:

I tried to make it clear in that post that Augustine believed in a “real presence” and not just that the Lord’s Supper was symbolic. So there is your both/and, however it is equally true that Augustine did not believe the bread was changed into the body of Christ, that is a physical presence of Christ’s body was present on earth during the Supper. Kelly is right on the money. Augustine use of sacramental language is the same as biblical use of sacramental language. The Scriptures calls the cup, the blood. It calls circumcision, the covenant. It doesn’t mean these things are changed into the other, but because of the sacramental union it perfectly just to refer to the sign(i.e. visible element) to the thing signified(i.e. spiritual truth ). It is beyond debate for anyone who reads Kelly on this issue that he does not believe Augustine believed in a physical presence, because Kelly separates the ECFs into two camps. Those who believed in a spiritual real presence and those who believed in a physical real presence. He clearly puts Augustine in the category of Tertullian and others that believed in a spiritual presence.

Not only did Mr. Armstrong misuse Kelly in this way, but he did the exact same thing to Protestant Scholar Philip Schaff. Mr. Armstrong sees the word realism or real presence and assumes physical presence. However, Schaff goes on to make the same point that Kelly made.

. . . How Mr. Armstrong could even attempt to use Schaff as affirming his cause is beyond me, especially when Dr. Schaff says Augustine is closer to the Orthodox Reformed doctrine.


Earlier, I had stated, concerning this (Calvinist) challenger:
He's just repeating himself now and spinning his wheels. St. Augustine believed in a simultaneous symbolism and realism, side-by-side, as I have explained in my papers: like the "sign of Jonah" also being real, literal, and physical: the Resurrection. It's "both/and." . . . Kelly (showing his natural bias a bit) stresses the symbolism part too much, over against Augustine's realism. . . . But your opponent won't accept that. He wants to torture all the quotes into symbolism only. It can't be done. He won't change his mind . . .

The problem is his "either/or" mentality. That's why facts (even if presented by Protestant scholars -- you provided nine from my materials) are ineffectual to get him to see what Augustine believed. He can't comprehend Augustine's dual "both/and" view because his premises don't and won't allow him to do so. We can accept both sides of the equation but he can only accept one, and so has to pretend the other doesn't exist, or explain it away by special pleading. He can't simply follow the facts of patristic beliefs to where they clearly lead. He'll keep asking questions forever. But that doesn't mean he has prevailed in the debate.
The following constitutes my latest complete response. It can also be regarded as additional commentary and a fuller clarification on these two past papers:
History of the Doctrine of the Eucharist: Nine Protestant Scholarly Sources

St. Augustine's Belief in the Real Presence
It is incorrect (to put it mildly) to say that I have provided citations improperly. Schaff and Kelly both clearly show their Protestant bias, and come down more on the side of a symbolic eucharistic belief of Augustine. Yet they acknowledge that he was (in some sense) a "realist" or "literalist" too. This is the key: they admit that he had both elements in his view. Catholics are saying that they can be harmonized: that there need not be any conflict or need to suppress one aspect at the expense of the other.

Kelly in particular, exhibits considerable confusion. I think he himself doesn't know how to put the two strains of Augustine's thought together. He seems to think they conflict, so he opts more for the "symbolic" aspect (as we would expect a good Protestant to do). I cite the revised 1978 edition of Early Christian Doctrines (San Francisco: HarperCollins):
His thought about the eucharist, unsystematic and many-sided as it is, is tantalizingly difficult to assess.

(p. 446)

Commenting on the Psalmist's bidding that we should adore the footstool of His feet, he pointed out that this must be the earth. But since to adore the earth would be blasphemous, he concluded that the word must mysteriously signify the flesh which Christ took from the earth and which He gave us to eat. Thus it was the eucharistic body which demanded adoration.

(p. 447)
Several questions arise at this point:
1) If what is adored is not the "earth" (which is idolatrous), then what IS adored, in St. Augustine's view? Is it not Christ Himself?

2) If the latter, how is this any different from the Catholic view (in that respect)?

3) If St. Augustine thought adoration of the consecrated Host was proper, why does not Calvin (or even the later Luther) follow him in this?

4) Was St. Augustine's example of adoration not followed because Augustine was in fact an idolater (much as Calvin accused -- alongside the despised "papists" -- also Luther and Lutherans of being, because they believed in the real, substantial presence)?

5) If St. Augustine was an idolater because of his belief in eucharistic adoration, then why is he cited as a supposed precursor to Calvin's mystical / spiritual eucharistic view (and supposedly more so in line with Calvin than with, say, St. Thomas Aquinas)? He should, rather, be classed as a corrupt "superstitious", etc., etc. Catholic, in Calvin's usual derogatory fashion.

6) Thus, the only reasonable, self-consistent choice seems to be that St. Augustine was much closer to the current Catholic view (in terms of Real, substantial Presence, as opposed to transubstantiation, which was more fully developed later), or else that his statements on the nature of the Eucharist, eucharistic adoration, and eucharistic sacrifice must be explained in a fashion that are contrary to received Catholic teaching.

7) The latter is impossible to do; therefore, Augustine must be classed as a (less-developed, but still highly-advanced for his time) Catholic, and the attempt to co-opt him as a forerunner of Calvin's eucharistic doctrine must be abandoned by the honest historical inquirer.
St. Augustine wrote:
Nobody eats this flesh without previously adoring it.

(Enarr. in Ps. 98, 9)
But the great historical revisionist John Calvin thought the following about those, like Augustine, who believed in adoration:
. . . the abominable Idolatry, when bread is pretended to assume Divinity, and raised aloft as God, and worshipped by all present! The thing is so atrocious and insulting, that without being seen it can scarcely be believed . . . A little bit of Bread, I say, is displayed, adored, and invoked. In short, it is believed to be God, a thing which even the Gentiles never believed of any of their statues! And let no one here object that it is not the Bread that is adored, but Christ who becomes substituted for the Bread the moment it has been legitimately consecrated.

. . . At last, behold the Idol (puny, indeed, in bodily appearance, and white in colour, but by far the foulest and most pestiferous of all Idols!) lifted up to affect the minds of the beholders with superstition. While all prostrate themselves in stupid amazement . . . What effrontery must ours be, if we deny that any one of the things delivered in Scripture against Idolatry is inapplicable to the Idolatry here detected and proved! What! is this Idol in any respect different from that which the Second Commandment of the Law forbids us to worship? But if it is not, why should the worship of it be regarded as less a sin than the worship of the Statue at Babylon? . . . how can it be lawful to keep rolling about in such a sink of pollution and sacrilege as here manifestly exists?

. . . Away, then, with those who, on the view of a missal-god of wafer, bend their knees in hypocritical adoration, and allege that they sin the less because they worship an idol under the name of God! As if the Lord were not doubly mocked by that nefarious use of his Name, when, in a manner abandoning Him, men run to an idol, and he himself is represented as passing into bread, because enchanted by a kind of dull and magical murmur!

(On Shunning the Unlawful Rites of the Ungodly, and Preserving the Purity of the Christian Religion;1537; translated by Henry Beveridge, 1851; reprinted in Selected Works of John Calvin: Tracts and Letters, Vol. 3: Tracts, Part 3, edited by Henry Beveridge and Jules Bonnet, Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1983; citations from pp. 383, 386-387, 393)
And about the sacrifice of the mass, which Augustine also fully accepted, Calvin stated:
. . . the mere name of Sacrifice (as the priests of the Mass understand it) both utterly abolishes the cross of Christ, and overturns his sacred Supper which he consecrated as a memorial of his death. For both, as we know, is the death of Christ utterly despoiled of its glory, unless it is held to be the one only and eternal Sacrifice; and if any other Sacrifice still remains, the Supper of Christ falls at once, and is completely torn up by the roots . . .

Will it still be denied to me that he who listens to the Mass with a semblance of Religion, every time these acts are perpetrated, professes before men to be a partner in sacrilege, whatever his mind may inwardly declare to God?

. . . Taking the single expression which gives the essence of all the invectives which the Apostle had uttered against Idolatry -- that we could not at once be partakers at the table of Christ and the table of demons -- who can deny its applicability to the Mass? Its altar is erected by overthrowing the Table of Christ . . . In the Mass Christ is traduced, his death is mocked, an execrable idol is substituted for God -- shall we hesitate, then, to call it the table of demons? Or shall we not rather, in order justly to designate its monstrous impiety, try, if possible, to devise some new term still more expressive of detestation? Indeed, I exceedingly wonder how men, not utterly blind, can hesitate for a moment to apply the name "Table of Demons" to the Mass, seeing they plainly behold in the erection and arrangement of it the tricks, engines, and troops of devils all combined . . . I have long been maintaining on the strongest grounds that Christian men ought not even to be present at it!

. . . will you represent the Supper under the image of a diabolical Mass? Will you persuade us that in an act in which you ignominiously travesty the death of the Lord, you observe his Supper, in which he distinctly exhorts us to shew forth his death?
(Ibid., 383, 386-388)
But Augustine thought, in contrast:
Christ is both the priest, offering Himself, and Himself the Victim. He willed that the sacramental sign of this should be the daily sacrifice of the Church.

(City of God, 10, 20)

Not only is no one forbidden to take as food the Blood of this Sacrifice, rather, all who wish to possess life are exhorted to drink thereof.

(Questions of the Hepateuch, 3, 57)
Kelly summarizes St. Augustine's thought on the sacrifice of the mass:
The self-same Christ Who was slain there is in a real sense slaughtered daily by the faithful, so that the sacrifice which was offered once for all in bloody form is sacramentally renewed upon our altars with the oblation of His body and blood.

(Ibid., 454; further sources: Ep. 98:9; cf. C. Faust, 20,18; 20:21)
One can't have it both ways. The revisionist, anachronistic game must cease as the indisputable relevant historical facts are brought to light.

Jaroslav Pelikan shows the same confusion, in interpreting St. Augustine's eucharistic doctrine:
    It is incorrect, therefore, to attribute to Augustine either a scholastic doctrine of transubstantiation or a Protestant doctrine of symbolism, for he taught neither - or both - and both were able to cite his authority.

    (The Emergence of the Catholic Tradition (100-600), Univ. of Chicago Press, 1971, 305; emphasis added)
Historian Philip Schaff also opts (his Protestant bias showing) for a Calvinist-like eucharistic doctrine in St. Augustine. I stated that myself in my paper of nine Protestant historians: "Schaff had just for two pages (pp. 498-500) shown how St. Augustine spoke of symbolism in the Eucharist as well . . ."

It's true that I overlooked to some extent the less literal sense of "real presence" utilized by Protestant historians like Kelly and Schaff. Upon re-reading, I can see that. I have my natural Catholic bias, too (and would never think of denying that). But this was an innocent mistake (based on confusing differential uses of "real presence"), not a deliberate mis-citation of anyone "for polemical purposes" or any other reason. My earlier papers are now clarified in this one.

Nevertheless, in any event, Schaff's treatment of St. Augustine's view on the sacrifice of the Mass shows (like both Kelly's and Pelikan's summaries) ambiguity and is quite inconsistent with a fully "eucharistically-Calvinist" Augustine:
Augustine . . . on the other hand [in contrast to the memorial aspect] he calls the celebration of the communion 'verissimum sacrificium' of the body of Christ. The church, he says, offers ('immolat') to God the sacrifice of thanks in the body of Christ. [City of God, 10,20]

. . . The subject of the sacrifice is the body of Jesus Christ, which is as truly present on the altar of the church, as it once was on the altar of the cross, and which now offers itself to God through his priest . . . Augustine, however, connects with this, as we have already said, the true and important moral idea of the self-sacrifice of the whole redeemed church to God.

(History of the Christian Church, vol.3, A.D. 311-600, rev. 5th ed., Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, rep. 1974, orig. 1910, pp. 507-508)
Note, then, how Schaff sees very "Catholic" or substantial, "material" elements in St. Augustine's view alongside the symbolic aspects. If any Calvinist thinks this can be harmonized with Calvin's eucharistic theology, try to find Calvin ever speaking in terms of the "sacrificial altar" or "sacrifice of Jesus being made by the priest" and so forth. And he also states:
As to the adoration of the consecrated elements: This follows with logical necessity from the doctrine of transubstantiation, and is the sure touchstone of it.

. . . Ambrose speaks of the flesh of Christ "which we to-day adore in the mysteries," [Ps 98,9] and Augustine, of an adoration preceding the participation of the flesh of Christ.

(Ibid., 501-502)
These patristic scholars tell us that St. Augustine taught little or nothing of the "transformationist" view (later more highly developed as transubstantiation), yet we can find a statement such as the following in the great Father's teachings (this one to the newly-baptized):
What you see on the Lord's table is, so far as external appearances go, the same as you are wont to see on your table at home. For the sight of a thing is one thing, its real meaning another . . . Up to the present it is, as you see, bread and wine. But the sanctifying words reach it and that bread will then be the Body of Christ and the wine will be His Blood. The Name of Christ, the grace of Christ, does this; with the result that what you see remains the same to sight, but its power and efficacy are quite other than they were.

(from St. Augustine of Hippo, Hugh Pope, Garden City, New York: Doubleday Image, 1961; from the 1937 original, p. 64. Primary source: Sermones Moriniani ex Collectione Guelferbitana, 4096, ed. Morin, 1917, vii, 1)
* * * * *

Mr. Armstrong is confused on a number of points.

If that is so (I'm not convinced until I read your reasoning), then I am delighted that you are gracious enough to help me get back on the right track again. I appreciate it.

First he claims Schaff and Kelly show their Protestant bias by coming down on a more symbolic belief for Augustine.

Why is that seen as some extraordinary or objectionable claim? Of course they have a bias, just as I do and just as everyone else does. I admitted mine. We all interpret the Bible and the Church Fathers' beliefs through the lens of our own particular commitments. We can try to be as fair and accurate and objective as possible, but it still colors our views. It is foolish to deny it.

This is false. Both Kelly and Schaff deny Augustine had a symbolic view even though he does speak of symbols , signs, and figures.

Now (giving credit where it is due), it is true that you succeeded in showing that Schaff and Kelly use the term "real presence" more or less as you do yourself. I hadn't realized that because of my own definitions of "real presence" as a Catholic. That's a case study of my own Catholic bias causing an inadvertant mistake in part, in how I took their words (or rather, not realizing that they were using a traditional Protestant understanding of the meaning; particularly Kelly, as an Anglican).

But now you are accusing me of claiming that Schaff and Kelly think Augustine had "a symbolic view." I didn't write that. Your own citation of my words above shows that I used the words "more symbolic", that is, relatively more so, as opposed to a purely symbolic Zwinglian or Baptist sort of position. It's the Calvinist "intermediate position." For this insight I thank you, but I still think your overall view of Augustine's position (and theirs) is incoherent in light of Augustine's views on adoration and the sacrifice of the mass.

The both affirm Augustine believed in the real presence. How many times do I have to repeat this? Their point is that Augustine’s “real presence” is not a physical presence, but instead a spiritual presence. And there is no suppression in this view. Is Mr. Armstrong reading the response or just responding to what he thinks I’m saying?

I understand that Calvinists wish to define the term in that fashion. That's why I try to remember to use the phrase "substantial presence" (but I don't always think to do this) because it highlights the essential difference between the two positions.

Kelly in particular, exhibits considerable confusion. I think he himself doesn't know how to put the two strains of Augustine's thought together. He seems to think they conflict, so he opts more for the "symbolic" aspect (as we would expect a good Protestant to do).

Kelly has no problem attributing views to the fathers that go against Protestant views throughout the book. Even on this topic he does the same,


That's not my immediate point, which is that Kelly himself states that Augustine's view is "
tantalizingly difficult to assess" (p. 446). He ultimately interprets it as falling in line more or less with Calvin's view (as does Schaff), because that is the view they lean more to, or espouse themselves. Likewise, I interpret Augustine's views as more in line with my Catholic ones. It's the classic struggle of both sides to co-opt Augustine as one of their own. But I think that my view is more historically accurate in light of Augustine's other eucharistic positions, as I have argued. We'll see how you deal with that.

but all of sudden with Augustine on the Eucharist he lets his Protestant biases get in the way. According to you the same thing is true of Philip Schaff. This is special pleading on your part.

Not at all. How is it special pleading when one takes the position that when a writer says himself that he is confused about someone else's thought, that his own bias will most likely be a factor in how he interprets them? All I've done is say the same about them that I say about myself: the completely incontrovertible claim that bias is universal and can either be denied or admitted. If I am "special pleading" about them then I am about myself, which makes no sense. I simply state my views because I am the world's biggest expert on them.

Kelly is a much more unbiased source than Mr. Dave Armstrong any day of any week.

That may be, but I have, for example, written no less than sixteen papers either defending Martin Luther or agreeing with him. I've written two defending Lutherans; I've written papers like "My Respect for Protestants" that get published in one of my books (More Biblical Evidence for Catholicism). I've cited many papers in links by anti-Catholic apologists like James White, who wouldn't dream of ever linking to any paper of mine, even if he entirely agreed with it. I've publicly defended people on principle many times, even though they themselves were personally at odds with me. I think all that shows that whatever my bias is, it doesn't cause me to be unfair in how I approach those of differing theological views (or even those personally ticked off with me).

How many papers (or posts) have you written defending your Catholic brothers and sisters or their theology when it is misrepresented by others (assuming you think we are Christians at all), or other Protestant groups? Perhaps you have; I'm just asking. But I have definitely done that myself, and you can read many such papers on my blog.

However, I don’t see where Augustine is saying we should worship the host. . . .
Nowhere in John 6 does Augustine interpret “flesh” as used by Jesus to be the actual bread, so I don’t see how one would think He is speaking of worshipping the bread/host.

You can move over to another "symbolic"-oriented citation if you wish. The problem remains for anyone (Protestant or Catholic) to synthesize the various statements of Augustine into a coherent whole. We think we can do that; but you simply ignore the literal statements about flesh and blood or pretend that they were not intended literally.

It's even more difficult to do that when talking about the sacrifice of the mass and eucharistic adoration because if that is not Jesus Who is involved, then it is gross idolatry, according to the standard Protestant outlook on those things. You can think whatever you want. But according to Schaff (whose views you love when he talks of Augustine's eucharistic doctrine being akin to Calvinist, because that's agreeable to you), the following is true:
As to the adoration of the consecrated elements: This follows with logical necessity from the doctrine of transubstantiation, and is the sure touchstone of it.

. . . Ambrose speaks of the flesh of Christ "which we to-day adore in the mysteries," [Ps 98,9] and Augustine, of an adoration preceding the participation of the flesh of Christ.

(Vol. III, 501-502)

1) If what is adored is not the "earth" (which is idolatrous), then what IS adored, in St. Augustine's view? Is it not Christ Himself?
Of course it is Christ, but this is far from saying the bread is Christ’s body and therefore it is worshipped.

This is where you are very confused indeed. Adoration is precisely directed towards the consecrated Host; otherwise it can be directed towards the non-physical Father in heaven at any time. Eucharistic adoration is specifically that directed towards the Incarnate Christ substantially present in the consecrated elements: the "eucharistically-substantiated" Christ. By definition it involves, then, this host that was bread and this wine that was wine, but which are both now the Body and Blood of Christ. St. Augustine makes this crystal-clear (downright undeniable) in the context of the passage that these scholars cite in order to support their contention that Augustine espoused eucharistic adoration. Here it is: Exposition on Psalm 99:8:
"O magnify the Lord our God" (ver. 5). Magnify Him truly, magnify Him well. Let us praise Him, let us magnify Him who has wrought the very righteousness which we have; who wrought it in us, Himself. For who but He who justified us, wrought righteousness in us? For of Christ it is said,"who justifies the ungodly." Romans 4:5 . . . "And fall down before His footstool: for He is holy." What are we to fall down before? His footstool. What is under the feet is called a footstool, . . . in Latin Scabellum or Suppedaneum. But consider, brethren, what he commands us to fall down before. In another passage of the Scriptures it is said, "The heaven is My throne, and the earth is My footstool. Isaiah 66:1 Doth he then bid us worship the earth, since in another passage it is said, that it is God's footstool? How then shall we worship the earth, when the Scripture says openly,"You shall worship the Lord your God"? Deuteronomy 6:13 Yet here it says, "fall down before His footstool:" and, explaining to us what His footstool is, it says, "The earth is My footstool." I am in doubt; I fear to worship the earth, lest He who made the heaven and the earth condemn me; again, I fear not to worship the footstool of my Lord, because the Psalm bids me,"fall down before His footstool." I ask, what is His footstool? and the Scripture tells me, "the earth is My footstool." In hesitation I turn unto Christ, since I am herein seeking Himself: and I discover how the earth may be worshipped without impiety, how His footstool may be worshipped without impiety. For He took upon Him earth from earth; because flesh is from earth, and He received flesh from the flesh of Mary. And because He walked here in very flesh, and gave that very flesh to us to eat for our salvation; and no one eats that flesh, unless he has first worshipped: we have found out in what sense such a footstool of our Lord's may be worshipped, and not only that we sin not in worshipping it, but that we sin in not worshipping.
It's undeniable because the entire thrust of his argument has to do with (my summary) "what is the footstool that God says we can worship?" It is clearly something physical, having to do with the earth. But Augustine notes that we are not to worship the earth. So Augustine brilliantly connects God to the earth by noting the Incarnation: "For He took upon Him earth from earth; because flesh is from earth, and He received flesh from the flesh of Mary." Then he says that Jesus gave us "that very flesh to us to eat for our salvation" and concludes that the footstool is the eucharistic elements that become Christ's body and blood; therefore can be worshiped as God, even though they have an earthly connection, precisely because of the Incarnation.

Then he denies that it is a sin to so worship and adore, and goes further and says it is a sin if we do not: "we have found out in what sense such a footstool of our Lord's may be worshipped, and not only that we sin not in worshipping it, but that we sin in not worshipping." Therefore, it is unarguable that this is unmistakably eucharistic adoration: the very thing which Calvin detested as an idolatrous abomination.

That's why there can be no middle ground on this matter: I contend that Augustine must be accepted as a full-fledged Catholic or not at all. But Protestants (particularly Calvinists) want to play games and ignore or overlook these "outrageous" Catholic elements in Augustine's doctrine and pretend that he was almost like a Calvin in the 4th century, with regard to the Eucharist. It's not true. If you disagree, then please explain the passage above. Schaff understands it as adoration, and he certainly thinks little of the doctrine itself. But he is honestly presenting what Augustine believed. I don't accuse Kelly and Schaff or any reputable Protestant historian of dishonesty. I say only that they have a natural bias, as I do myself. It is you who have accused me and apologists as a whole, in tendency, of dishonesty.

2) If the latter, how is this any different from the Catholic view (in that respect)?

Very different. Augustine never argues or say the bread is changed into the body of Christ. On the contrary he says the very opposite, that is the bread is not the true body of Christ. It is sign of the signified body of Christ.

This is untrue. You've already been shown that in several citations by many folks, and the one that ended my last reply. Here is another:
For not all bread, but only that which receives the blessing of Christ, becomes Christ's body.

(Sermons, 234,2; from William A. Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1979, vol. 3, 31)
When Augustine says the consecrated Eucharist is a sign, that is not contrary to it also being substantively real. It is a sign also. The Catholic Church teaches the same thing. You know how we regard the Holy Eucharist. But we, to, think it is a sign, just as Augustine did (see CCC: #1333-1336, 1412) and a memorial (CCC #1099, 1362-1366), even, indeed, a foretaste or sign of the Resurrection (CCC #1000) and an analogy to the Paschal meal of the risen Jesus (CCC #1347). Obviously, then, the notion of "sign" is not intrinsically contrary to substantive presence, as if it wipes it out, like the relationship of water to fire, etc., or a zero-sum game.

Augustine thought adoration of the consecrated Host was proper, why does not Calvin (or even the later Luther) follow him in this?

I’m not convinced that Augustine is saying the consecrated Host is what is worshipped.

Very well, then. Please explain the above exposition on Psalm 99:8.

Furthermore, neither am I’m saying Calvin would agree with Augustine on every single point. However, what I am saying is that Augustine general view is more in line with Calvin than Rome.

I understand that, but it's not true. I, of course, am arguing that his view is far more like the Catholic Church's position than Calvin's, or any Protestant. Luther believed in substantial presence, too (in a different manner), yet he eventually abominated eucharistic adoration, and always stood against eucharistic sacrifice (of the mass). You cannot prove that Augustine did not espouse those doctrines. Until you do, your argument will fall flat. We can explain Augustine's language of signs and his more literal language, as a harmonious package. You cannot. You must deny or "spiritualize away" his more literal, substantive statements.

Augustine says it too many times that the bread is not Christ. Furthermore, when Augustine explains his sacramental language one understands what he means when he does say the bread is Christ’s body.

There is a distinction to be made between Christ's body when He walked the earth, and sacramental, eucharistic, substantive presence. The former is a natural body, the latter a supernatural, sacramental one. I believe that can account for Augustine's distinctions. It's nothing different than what the Catholic Church holds.

3) Was St. Augustine's example of adoration not followed because Augustine was in fact an idolater (much as Calvin accused -- alongside the despised "papists" -- also Luther and Lutherans of being, because they believed in the real, substantial presence)?

Doesn’t it naturally follow if someone worships something other than God he is an idolater? I assume you would even agree with that no matter how sincere they were in their beliefs.

If the person is consciously worshiping something other than God he is an idolater (he may mistakenly think it is God, but that is a whole 'nother issue and discussion). Calvin's mistake, however, lies along a different order altogether. He is accusing Catholics of worshiping bread; therefore, committing idolatry of the gross sort: akin to the worship of a stone amulet or the golden calf. But this doesn't follow at all. Catholics (and Orthodox) are worshiping the true God through elements believed to be miraculously transformed into the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ the Incarnate God.

They are not worshiping anything other than God. No Catholic who knows anything at all has ever worshiped or venerated either a piece of plaster (a statue) or a piece of bread or glass of wine (the Eucharist). They worship God. Since idolatry is a heart matter, it is wildly incorrect to say that Catholics consciously worship a piece of bread; therefore, they are rank idolaters. But Calvin does this all the time. He even said it about his fellow "reformer" Martin Luther and Lutherans:

. . . if Luther has so great a lust of victory, he will never be able to join along with us in a sincere agreement respecting the pure truth of God. For he has sinned against it not only from vainglory and abusive language, but also from ignorance and the grossest extravagance. For what absurdities he pawned upon us in the beginning, when he said the bread is the very body!

And if now he imagines that the body of Christ is enveloped by the bread, I judge that he is chargeable with a very foul error. What can I say of the partisans of that cause? Do they not romance more wildly than Marcion respecting the body of Christ? . . .

(Letter to Martin Bucer, January 12, 1538; in John Dillenberger, editor, John Calvin: Selections From His Writings, Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Co. / Anchor Books, 1971, 47; Calvin’s letter to Martin Bucer in 1538 was translated by Marcus Robert Gilchrist)

In their madness they even drew idolatry after them. For what else is the adorable sacrament of Luther but an idol set up in the temple of God?

(Letter to Martin Bucer, June 1549; in Jules Bonnet, editor, John Calvin: Selected Works of John Calvin: Tracts and Letters: Letters, Part 2, 1545-1553, volume 5 of 7; translated by David Constable; Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1983; reproduction of Letters of John Calvin, volume II {Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1858}, p. 234)
Martin Luther, earlier on, had accepted eucharistic adoration, but later he forsook it. The second letter, however, was written after Luther's death. It is interesting, then, how Calvin continues to attribute to Luther belief in an "adorable sacrament" that amounts to an idol. Perhaps he is simply being consistent, as Augustine was, in seeing that substantial presence logically leads to adoration of the Host, whereas Luther became less consistent later in his life.

So why do you act as if Calvin was saying something so horrible?

Because it doesn't apply to fellow Christians at all, who are worshiping God by virtue of an incarnational (and utterly biblical) understanding that incorporates the Holy Eucharist. Your problem is one of great internal inconsistency. I have shown how Augustine accepted both adoration and the sacrifice of the mass. Calvin (your master, far as I can tell) thinks both are abominations, idolatries, and gross superstition.

There are only so many choices. You can disagree with Augustine and admit that Calvin wrongly includes him among the non-idolater "real Christians" or you can continue to maintain that Augustine was more like Calvin in this regard than Aquinas, and make counter-arguments about what I have presented. But there is no middle ground. If you want to pretend that Augustine had a mystical / spiritual-only view of the Eucharist, you still have to deal with adoration and sacrifice. It's an uphill battle. Eventually, I think you'll have to forsake the effort to co-opt St. Augustine for your purposes, just as Luther and Melanchthon eventually largely did: realizing that their views differed from his.

4) If St. Augustine was an idolater because of his belief in eucharistic adoration, then why is he cited as a supposed precursor to Calvin's mystical / spiritual eucharistic view (and supposedly more so in line with Calvin than with, say, St. Thomas Aquinas)? He should, rather, be classed as a corrupt "superstitious", etc., etc. Catholic, in Calvin's usual derogatory fashion.

He is cited as a precursor of Calvin’s msystical/spiritual Eucharistic view, because that is what he is.

Right. That remains to be proven, not merely asserted.

A precursor does not mean you agree on every single detail. So even if Augustine thought one should worship the host, I’m not convinced that is his position yet, it doesn’t take away from his saying the bread is not the actual body of Christ elsewhere.

Again, you don't seem to understand the implications of all these things considered together. We'll assume for the sake of argument that Augustine did believe in adoration (I think I have proven that beyond a doubt from his own words). So now we have a scenario where Augustine is calling for Christians to adore this bread and wine that he thinks are not actually the substance of Jesus' body and blood. He is calling for actual worship of the consecrated elements, yet they are not truly Jesus' body and blood, in substance.

Therefore, according to Calvin, this is idolatry, and cannot be otherwise. If he thinks that Catholics are guilty of idolatry despite our belief in transubstantiation (no bread and wine present at all after consecration) and Lutherans are also guilty of it (with bread and wine and Jesus' body and blood all present after consecration), then what will he think of such adoration with no substantive presence at all? He will consider it idolatry!

That's why your position, insofar as it mirrors Calvin's, is completely incoherent and internally inconsistent. There can be no place for such adoration (given these false Calvinist premises). If Augustine believes that, then he should be rejected as any sort of precursor to Calvin at all, because Calvin is at least consistent in disbelieving any substantive presence at all; therefore he utterly rejects adoration of Jesus in the Eucharist. But Calvin (the ultimate historical revisionist extraordinaire) simply pretends that Augustine did not accept sacrifice or adoration. He goes further than you do: claiming that Augustine is completely on his side:
I shall not heap up -- even out of Augustine -- everything that pertains to the matter; but I shall be content to show by a few testimonies that he is wholly and incontrovertibly on our side.

(Institutes, IV, 17, 28: "The Witness of Augustine")

Augustine himself in many passages interprets it as nothing but a sacrifice of praise.

(Inst., IV, 18, 10)

5) Thus, the only reasonable, self-consistent choice seems to be that St. Augustine was much closer to the current Catholic view (in terms of Real, substantial Presence, as opposed to transubstantiation, which was more fully developed later), or else that his statements on the nature of the Eucharist, eucharistic adoration, and eucharistic sacrifice must be explained in a fashion that are contrary to received Catholic teaching.
On the contrary, Augustine’s view on the distinction between the sign and the thing signified and his explaining this in reference to the Lord’s Supper and other things such as the Rock being struck by Moses as an analogy of the same is perfectly consistent with Calvin’s view. Calvin also believed in a “Real, substantial Presence”

He did not (certainly not, at any rate, as Catholics do, or as Augustine did). He thought that Jesus' body could not be substantially present in the Eucharist because it could only be located in heaven. He denies that Jesus can "come down to us" through the Eucharist, and so takes the view that believers in communion are, in effect, taken up to heaven. See: Institutes, IV, 17, 26-34.

so that doesn’t help your position at all. The difference is in the mode of the “real presence”. Augustine and Calvin are in agreement contrary to Rome that Christ’s body is not physically present in the Eucharist.

That's poppycock. How many citations does it take to prove this?

Furthermore, there were those who believed in a physical presence before, during, and after Augustine so the excuse about later development doesn’t work. He didn’t have to explain it in the terms and reasoning of Transubstantiation to confess Christ’s body was physically present as others did.

Transubstantiation is irrelevant to the discussion. That was more fully developed later. Substantial presence is the essential element in transubstantiation because it is the second part of the very word. Real, substantial presence means that Jesus is substantially present in the Eucharist. All transubstantiation adds to that is how the substantial change occurred.

We have seen enough to see that Augustine accepted substantial presence, and even some hints of a transformational view, as in his words I have cited: "But the sanctifying words reach it and that bread will then be the Body of Christ and the wine will be His Blood" and "For not all bread, but only that which receives the blessing of Christ, becomes Christ's body." "Becomes" and "will then be" are not - far as I can tell - all that different from the "trans" in "transubstantiation." Something changes. Either it is a complete transformation (Catholic view) a partial one (Lutheranism) or playing games with words and incoherent metaphysics (Calvin's and the Reformed view), or completely symbolic (Baptists and many low-church evangelical Protestants).

6) The latter is impossible to do; therefore, Augustine must be classed as a (less-developed, but still highly-advanced for his time) Catholic, and the attempt to co-opt him as a forerunner of Calvin's eucharistic doctrine must be abandoned by the honest historical inquirer.

Prejudicial language, if you don’t agree with Mr. Dave Armstrong then you are not an honest inquirer.

I didn't say that at all. That is your cynical interpretation. I backed myself up with Protestant historians who don't agree with Calvin that Augustine is "wholly and incontrovertibly" on Calvin's side vis-a-vis the Eucharist. That's honest scholarship. I simply gave my opinion. It's not saying that every Protestant who tries to co-opt Augustine is dishonest (not at all, rightly-understood). It depends on what a person knows. You know more now than you did before, so you are responsible for it. You can no longer deny that Augustine believed in eucharistic adoration. And so that has to be consistently incorporated into your overall understanding. If you want to also deny that he believed in the sacrifice of the mass, we can delve into primary material and context there, too. In any event, the following two propositions are quite different from each other:
1) I believe that honest, i.e., objective and fair-minded as possible (extensive) historical inquiry will lead to the view that Augustine was more like Catholics in the matter of the Eucharist than like Calvinists.

2) I believe that anyone who does honest historical inquiry regarding Augustine and the matter of the Eucharist and who concludes that he is more like Calvinists than Catholics, is dishonest, because they come to a different conclusion than I do.
#1 expresses my intent in my previous statement (that could have been worded more precisely, but then that is always possible for virtually any sentence of writing; this is why we clarify our meanings and intents through dialogue). I do not believe #2. I think there is a great deal of ignorance going around, and partisan biases perpetuate those by selective citations (all sides do this).

Non sequitur, Augustine must be classed as a less-developed Catholic.

It's my opinion, and you have not overthrown it, as far as I am concerned. You still have a lot of explaining to do. Simply repeating your opinions over and over (as you are doing more and more now) is not an argument, and doesn't impress anyone. I've provided actual relevant facts and data and what I think is a reasonable and coherent interpretation of them.

Monday, February 26, 2007

St. Augustine: Are Reformed Protestants or Catholics Closer Theologically to His Teaching?

I expressed to a Protestant apologist friend:

At the same time you (and people like R.C. Sproul - especially him -, as on his radio show today) pretend that Augustine and Aquinas were these wonderful, spiritual "proto-Protestants" and theological ancestors and overlook the fact that they are in actuality the quintessential Catholics. These are our guys! You can't respect them so much and claim them as your own, ignoring large aspects of their teaching which you claim to despise when others express the same thing, and then read their true legatees out of the Church. The whole enterprise is ridiculous, laughable (if it weren't so tragic and aggravating) and fundamentally intellectually dishonest.

I. Augustine and Sola Fide (Faith Alone)

To begin, I would like to cite at length Joe Willcoxson's excellent paper: Did St. Augustine Teach Sola Fide?:

In a previous tract on St. Augustine, I made the case that St. Augustine would properly be classified as Catholic and not Protestant. In their attempts to make St. Augustine into a Protestant, men like John Calvin and other Reformed Protestants (RP) have tried to make the case that St. Augustine taught justification by faith alone, also known by the Latin slogan "sola fide". RPs cite all the bountiful (but IMHO, selective) quotes of St. Augustine in Calvin's "Institutes of the Christian Religion" as proof that Augustine taught sola fide. Like all other myths, the myth that Augustine was some kind of proto-Protestant in the fifth century dies hard. I have found that proving that Augustine is a Catholic is like trying to prove Karl Marx was a Communist to someone who believes Marx was a capitalist.
Regarding St. Augustine, Luther wrote:

Augustine has sometimes erred and is not to be trusted. Although good and holy, he was yet lacking in the true faith, as well as the other fathers...But when the door was opened for me in Paul, so that I understood what justification by faith is, it was all over with Augustine.

(Luther's Works 54, 49)

It was Augustine's view that the law...if the Holy Spirit assists, the works of the law do justify...I reply by saying "No".

(Luther's Works 54, 10)

Well, why would Luther say Augustine erred by not teaching sola fide? Every RP knows that St. Augustine was a Protestant, right? Well, before we say that, let's take a look at what St. Augustine has written:

When you shall have been baptized, keep to a good life in the commandments of God so that you may preserve your baptism to the very end. I do not tell you that you will live here without sin, but they are venial sins which this life is never without. Baptism was instituted for all sins. For light sins, without which we cannot live, prayer was instituted. . . . But do not commit those sins on account of which you would have to be separated from the body of Christ. Perish the thought! For those whom you see doing penance have committed crimes, either adultery or some other enormities. That is why they are doing penance. If their sins were light, daily prayer would suffice to blot them out. . . . In the Church, therefore, there are three ways in which sins are forgiven: in baptisms, in prayer, and in the greater humility of penance.

(St. Augustine, Sermon to Catechumens on the Creed 7:15, 8:16)

In the above quote, Augustine writes that sins are forgiven in baptism, prayer, and in penance. Does that sound like sola fide to you? However, there is more:

CHAP. 18.--FAITH WITHOUT GOOD WORKS IS NOT SUFFICIENT FOR SALVATION.

Unintelligent persons, however, with regard to the apostle's statement: "We conclude that a man is justified by faith without the works of the law," have thought him to mean that faith suffices to a man, even if he lead a bad life, and has no good works. Impossible is it that such a character should be deemed "a vessel of election" by the apostle, who, after declaring that "in Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision," adds at once, "but faith which worketh by love." It is such faith which severs God's faithful from unclean demons,--for even these "believe and tremble," as the Apostle James says; but they do not do well. Therefore they possess not the faith by which the just man lives,--the faith which works by love in such wise, that God recompenses it according to its works with eternal life. But inasmuch as we have even our good works from God, from whom likewise comes our faith and our love, therefore the selfsame great teacher of the Gentiles has designated "eternal life" itself as His gracious "gift."

CHAP. 19 [VIII.]--HOW IS ETERNAL LIFE BOTH A REWARD FOR SERVICE AND A FREE GIFT OF GRACE?

And hence there arises no small question, which must be solved by the Lord's gift. If eternal life is rendered to good works, as the Scripture most openly declares: "Then He shall reward every man according to his works:" how can eternal life be a matter of grace, seeing that grace is not rendered to works, but is given gratuitously, as the apostle himself tells us: "To him that worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt;" and again: "There is a remnant saved according to the election of grace;" with these words immediately subjoined: "And if of grace, then is it no more of works; otherwise grace is no more grace"? How, then, is eternal life by grace, when it is received from works? Does the apostle perchance not say that eternal life is a grace? Nay, he has so called it, with a clearness which none can possibly gainsay. It requires no acute intellect, but only an attentive reader, to discover this. For after saying, "The wages of sin is death," he at once added, "The grace of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."

CHAP. 20.--THE QUESTION ANSWERED. JUSTIFICATION IS GRACE SIMPLY AND ENTIRELY, ETERNAL LIFE IS REWARD AND GRACE.

This question, then, seems to me to be by no means capable of solution, unless we understand that even those good works of ours, which are recompensed with eternal life, belong to the grace of God, because of what is said by the Lord Jesus: "Without me ye can do nothing." And the apostle himself, after saying, "By grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should boast;" saw, of course, the possibility that men would think from this statement that good works are not necessary to those who believe, but that faith alone suffices for them; and again, the possibility of men's boasting of their good works, as if they were of themselves capable of performing them. To meet, therefore, these opinions on both sides, he immediately added, "For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them." What is the purport of his saying, "Not of works, lest any man should boast," while commending the grace of God? And then why does he afterwards, when giving a reason for using such words, say, "For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works"? Why, therefore, does it run, "Not of works, lest any man should boast"? Now, hear and understand. "Not of works" is spoken of the works which you suppose have their origin in yourself alone; but you have to think of works for which God has moulded (that is, has formed and created) you. For of these he says, "We are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works." Now he does not here speak of that creation which made us human beings, but of that in reference to which one said who was already in full manhood, "Create in me a clean heart, O God;" concerning which also the apostle says, "Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. And all things are of God." We are framed, therefore, that is, formed and created, "in the good works which" we have not ourselves prepared, but "God hath before ordained that we should walk in them."

It follows, then, dearly beloved, beyond all doubt, that as your good life is nothing else than God's grace, so also the eternal life which is the recompense of a good life is the grace of God; moreover it is given gratuitously, even as that is given gratuitously to which it is given. But that to which it is given is solely and simply grace; this therefore is also that which is given to it, because it is its reward;--grace is for grace, as if remuneration for righteousness; in order that it may be true, because it is true, that God "shall reward every man according to his works."

(A Treatise on Grace and Free Will)

Now, if the wicked man were to be saved by fire on account of his faith only, and if this is the way the statement of the blessed Paul should be understood--"But he himself shall be saved, yet so as by fire"--then faith without works would be sufficient to salvation. But then what the apostle James said would be false. And also false would be another statement of the same Paul himself: "Do not err," he says; "neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor the unmanly, nor homosexuals, nor thieves, nor the covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the Kingdom of God."

(Enchiridion, Chapter XVIII, paragraph 3).

II. Augustine, Predestination, and Human Free Will

From the Catholic Encyclopedia (vol. II, 1907), TEACHING OF ST. AUGUSTINE OF HIPPO, by Eugene Portalie:

Absolute sovereignty of God over the will

This principle, in opposition to the emancipation of Pelagius, has not always been understood in its entire significance. We think that numberless texts of the holy Doctor signify that not only does every meritorious act require supernatural grace, but also that every act of virtue, even of infidels, should be ascribed to a Gift of God, not indeed to a supernatural grace (as Baius and the Jansenists pretend), but to a specially efficacious providence which has prepared this good movement of the will (Retractations, I, ix, n. 6). It is not, as theologians very wisely remark, that the will cannot accomplish that act of natural virtue, but it is a fact that without this providential benefit it would not. Many misunderstandings have arisen because this principle has not been comprehended, and in particular the great medieval theology, which adopted it and made it the basis of its system of liberty, has not been justly appreciated. But many have been afraid of these affirmations which are so sweeping, because they have not grasped the nature of God's gift, which leaves freedom intact. The fact has been too much lost sight of that Augustine distinguishes very explicitly two orders of grace: the grace of natural virtues (the simple gift of Providence, which prepares efficacious motives for the will); and grace for salutary and supernatural acts, given with the first preludes of faith. The latter is the grace of the sons, gratia fliorum; the former is the grace of all men, a grace which even strangers and infidels (filii concubinarum, as St. Augustine says) can receive (De Patientiae, xxvii, n. 28).

Man remains free, even under the action of grace

The second principle, the affirmation of liberty.... under the action of efficacious grace, has always been safeguarded, and there is not one of his anti-Pelagian works even of the latest, which does not positively proclaim a complete power of choice in man; "not but what it does not depend on the free choice of the will to embrace the faith or reject it, but in the elect this will is prepared by God" (De Praedest. SS., n. 10). The great Doctor did not reproach the Pelagians with requiring a power to choose between good and evil; in fact he proclaims with them that without that power there is no responsibility, no merit, no demerit; but he reproaches them with exaggerating this power. Julian of Eclanum, denying the sway of concupiscence, conceives free will as a balance in perfect equilibrium. Augustine protests: this absolute equilibrium existed in Adam; it was destroyed after original sin; the will has to struggle and react against an inclination to evil, but it remains mistress of its choice (Opus imperfectum contra Julianum, III, cxvii). Thus, when he says that we have lost freedom in consequence of the sin of Adam, he is careful to explain that this lost freedom is not the liberty of choosing between good and evil, because without it we could not help sinning, but the perfect liberty which was calm and without struggle, and which was enjoyed by Adam in virtue of his original integrity.

The reconciliation of these two truths

But is there not between these two principles an irremediable antinomy? On the one hand, there is affirmed an absolute and unreserved power in God of directing the choice of our will, of converting every hardened sinner, or of letting every created will harden itself; .... on the other hand, it is affirmed that the rejection or acceptance of grace or of temptation depends on our free will. Is not this a contradiction? Very many modern critics, among whom are Loofs and Harnack, have considered these two affirmations as irreconcilable. But it is because, according to them, Augustinian grace is an irresistible impulse given by God, just as in the absence of it every temptation inevitably overcomes the will. But in reality all antinomy disappears if we have the key of the system; and this key is found in the third principle: the Augustinian explanation of the Divine government of wills, a theory so original, so profound, and yet absolutely unknown to the most perspicacious critics, Harnack, Loofs, and the rest.

Here are the main lines of this theory: The will never decides without a motive, without the attraction of some good which it perceives in the object. Now, although the will may be free in presence of every motive, still, as a matter of fact it takes different resolutions according to the different motives presented to it. In that is the whole secret of the influence exercised, for instance, by eloquence (the orator can do no more than present motives), by meditation, or by good reading. What a power over the will would not a man possess who could, at his own pleasure, at any moment, and in the most striking manner, present this or the other motive of action? - But such is God's privilege. St. Augustine has remarked that man is not the master of his first thoughts; he can exert an influence on the course of his reflections, but he himself cannot determine the objects, the images, and, consequently, the motives which present themselves to his mind. Now, as chance is only a word, it is God who determines at His pleasure these first perceptions of men, either by the prepared providential action of exterior causes, or interiorly by a Divine illumination given to the soul. - let us take one last step with Augustine: Not only does God send at His pleasure those attractive motives which inspire the will with its determinations, but, before choosing between these illuminations of the natural and the supernatural order, God knows the response which the soul, with all freedom, will make to each of them. Thus, in the Divine knowledge, there is for each created will an indefinite series of motives which de facto (but very freely) win the consent to what is good. God, therefore, can, at His pleasure, obtain the salvation of Judas, if He wishes, or let Peter go down to perdition. No freedom, as a matter of fact, will resist what He has planned, although it always keeps the power of going to perdition. Consequently, it is God alone, in His perfect independence, who determines, by the choice of such a motive or such an inspiration (of which he knows the future influence), whether the will is going to decide for good or for evil. Hence, the man who has acted well must thank God for having sent him an inspiration which was foreseen to be efficacious, while that favour has been denied to another. A fortiori, every one of the elect owes it to the Divine goodness alone that he has received a series of graces which God saw to be infallibly, though freely, bound up with final perseverance.

Assuredly we may reject this theory, for the Church, which always maintains the two principles of the absolute dependence of the will and of freedom, has not yet adopted as its own this reconciliation of the two extremes. We may ask where and how God knows the effect of these graces. Augustine has always affirmed the fact; he has never inquired about the mode; and it is here that Molinism has added to and developed his thoughts, in attempting to answer this question. But can the thinker, who created and until his dying day maintained this system which is so logically concatenated, be accused of fatalism and Manichaeism? It remains to be shown that our interpretation exactly reproduces the thought of the great Doctor. The texts are too numerous and too long to be reproduced here. But there is one work of Augustine, dating from the year 397, in which he clearly explains his thought - a work which he not only did not disavow later on, but to which in particular he referred, at the end of his career, those of his readers who were troubled by his constant affirmation of grace. For example, to the monks of Adrumetum who thought that liberty was irreconcilable with this affirmation, he addressed a copy of this book "De Diversis quaestionibus ad Simplicianum," feeling sure that their doubts would be dissipated. There, in fact, he formulates his thoughts with great clearness. Simplician had asked how he should understand the Epistle to the Romans 9, on the predestination of Jacob and Esau. Augustine first lays down the fundamental principle of St. Paul, that every good will comes from grace, so that no man can take glory to himself for his merits, and this grace is so sure of its results that human liberty will never in reality resist it, although it has the power to do so. Then he affirms that this efficacious grace is not necessary for us to be able to act well, but because, in fact, without it we would not wish to act well. From that arises the great difficulty: How does the power of resisting grace fit in with the certainty of the result? .... It is here that Augustine replies: There are many ways of inviting faith. Souls being differently disposed, God knows what invitation will be accepted, what other will not be accepted. Only those are the elect for whom God chooses the invitation which is foreseen to be efficacious, but God could convert them all: "Cujus autem miseretur, sic cum vocat, quomodo scit ei congruere ut vocantem non respuat" (op. cit., I, q. ii, n. 2, 12, 13).

Is there in this a vestige of an irresistible grace or of that impulse against which it is impossible to fight, forcing some to good, and others to sin and hell? It cannot be too often repeated that this is not an idea flung off in passing, but a fundamental explanation which if not understood leaves us in the impossibility of grasping anything of his doctrine; but if it is seized Augustine entertains no feelings of uneasiness on the score of freedom. In fact he supposes freedom everywhere, and reverts incessantly to that knowledge on God's part which precedes predestination, directs it, and assures its infallible result. In the "De Done perseverantiae" (xvii, n. 42), written at the end of his life, he explains the whole of predestination by the choice of the vocation which is foreseen as efficacious. Thus is explained the chief part attributed to that external providence which prepares, by ill health, by warnings, etc., the good thoughts which it knows will bring about good resolutions. Finally, this explanation alone harmonizes with the moral action which he attributes to victorious grace. Nowhere does Augustine represent it as an irresistible impulse impressed by the stronger on the weaker. It is always an appeal, an invitation which attracts and seeks to persuade. He describes this attraction, which is without violence, under the graceful image of dainties offered to a child, green leaves offered to a sheep (In Joannem, tract. xxvi, n. 5). And always the infallibility of the result is assured by the Divine knowledge which directs the choice of the invitation.

(4) The Augustinian predestination presents no new difficulty if one has understood the function of this Divine knowledge in the choice of graces. The problem is reduced to this: Does God in his creative decree and, before any act of human liberty, determine by an immutable choice the elect and the reprobate? - Must the elect during eternity thank God only for having rewarded their merits, or must they also thank Him for having, prior to any merit on their part, chosen them to the meriting of this reward? One system, that of the Semipelagians, decides in favour of man: God predestines to salvation all alike, and gives to all an equal measure of grace; human liberty alone decides whether one is lost or saved; from which we must logically conclude (and they really insinuated it) that the number of the elect is not fixed or certain. The opposite system, that of the Predestinationists (the Semipelagians falsely ascribed this view to the Doctor of Hippo), affirms not only a privileged choice of the elect by God, but at the same time (a) the predestination of the reprobate to hell and (b) the absolute powerlessness of one or the other to escape from the irresistible impulse which drags them either to good or to evil. This is the system of Calvin.

Between these two extreme opinions Augustine formulated (not invented) the Catholic dogma, which affirms these two truths at the same time:

the eternal choice of the elect by God is very real, very gratuitous, and constitutes the grace of graces; but this decree does not destroy the Divine will to save all men, which, moreover, is not realized except by the human liberty that leaves to the elect full power to fall and to the non-elect full power to rise.

Here is how the theory of St. Augustine, already explained, forces us to conceive of the Divine decree: Before all decision to create the world, the infinite knowledge of God presents to Him all the graces, and different series of graces, which He can prepare for each soul, along with the consent or refusal which would follow in each circumstance, and that in millions and millions of possible combinations. Thus He sees that if Peter had received such another grace, he would not have been converted; and if on the contrary such another Divine appeal had been heard in the heart of Judas, he would have done penance and been saved. Thus, for each man in particular there are in the thought of God, limitless possible histories, some histories of virtue and salvation, others of crime and damnation; and God will be free in choosing such a world, such a series of graces, and in determining the future history and final destiny of each soul. And this is precisely what He does when, among all possible worlds, by an absolutely free act, He decides to realize the actual world with all the circumstances of its historic evolutions, with all the graces which in fact have been and will be distributed until the end of the world, and consequently with all the elect and all the reprobate who God foresaw would be in it if de facto He created it.

Now in the Divine decree, according to Augustine, and according to the Catholic Faith on this point, which has been formulated by him, the two elements pointed out above appear:

The certain and gratuitous choice of the elect - God decreeing, indeed, to create the world and to give it such a series of graces with such a concatenation of circumstances as should bring about freely, but infallibly, such and such results (for example, the despair of Judas and the repentance of Peter), decides, at the same time, the name, the place, the number of the citizens of the future heavenly Jerusalem. The choice is immutable; the list closed. It is evident, indeed, that only those of whom God knows beforehand that they will wish to co-operate with the grace decreed by Him will be saved. It is a gratuitous choice, the gift of gifts, in virtue of which even our merits are a gratuitous benefit, a gift which precedes all our merits. No one, in fact, is able to merit this election. God could, among other possible worlds, have chosen one in which other series of graces would have brought about other results. He saw combinations in which Peter would have been impenitent and Judas converted. It is therefore prior to any merit of Peter, or any fault of Judas, that God decided to give them the graces which saved Peter and not Judas. God does not wish to give paradise gratuitously to any one; but He gives very gratuitously to Peter the graces with which He knows Peter will be saved. - Mysterious choice! Not that it interferes with liberty, but because to this question: Why did not God, seeing that another grace would have saved Judas, give it to him? Faith can only answer, with Augustine: O Mystery! O Altitudo! (De Spiritu et litterae, xxxiv, n. 60). But this decree includes also the second element of the Catholic dogma: the very sincere will of God to give to all men the power of saving themselves and the power of damning themselves. According to Augustine, God, in his creative decree, has expressly excluded every order of things in which grace would deprive man of his liberty, every situation in which man would not have the power to resist sin, and thus Augustine brushes aside that predestinationism which has been attributed to him. Listen to him speaking to the Manichaeans: "All can be saved if they wish"; and in his "Retractations" (I, x), far from correcting this assertion, he confirms it emphatically: "It is true, entirely true, that all men can, if they wish." But he always goes back to the providential preparation. In his sermons he says to all: "It depends on you to be elect" (In Ps. cxx, n. 11, etc.); "Who are the elect? You, if you wish it" (In Ps. Lxxiii, n. 5). But, you will say, according to Augustine, the lists of the elect and reprobate are closed. Now if the non-elect can gain heaven, if all the elect can be lost, why should not some pass from one list to the other? You forget the celebrated explanation of Augustine: When God made His plan, He knew infallibly, before His choice, what would be the response of the wills of men to His graces. If, then, the lists are definitive, if no one will pass from one series to the other, it is not because anyone cannot (on the contrary, all can), it is because God knew with infallible knowledge that no one would wish to. Thus I cannot effect that God should destine me to another series of graces than that which He has fixed, but, with this grace, if I do not save myself it will not be because I am not able,
but because I do not wish to.

Such are the two essential elements of Augustinian and Catholic predestination. This is the dogma common to all the schools, and formulated by all theologians: predestination in its entirety is absolutely gratuitous (ante merita). We have to insist on this, because many have seen in this immutable and gratuitous choice only a hard thesis peculiar to St. Augustine, whereas it is pure dogma (barring the mode of conciliation, which the Church still leaves free). With that established, the long debates of theologians on special predestination to glory ante or post merita are far from having the importance that some attach to them. (For a fuller treatment of this subtile problem see the "Dict. de theol. cath., I, coll. 2402 sqq.) I do not think St. Augustine entered that debate; in his time, only dogma was in question. But it does not seem historically permissible to maintain, as many writers have, that Augustine first taught the milder system (post merita), up to the year 416 (In Joan. evang., tract. xii, n. 12) and that afterwards, towards 418, he shifted his ground and went to the extreme of harsh assertion, amounting even to predestinationism. We repeat, the facts absolutely refute this view. The ancient texts, even of 397, are as affirmative and as categorical as those of his last years, as critics like Loofs and Reuter have shown. If, therefore, it is shown that at that time he inclined to the milder opinion, there is no reason to think that he did not persevere in that sentiment . . .

(6) Does this mean that we must praise everything in St. Augustine's explanation of grace? Certainly not. And we shall note the improvements made by the Church, through her doctors, in the original Augustinism. Some exaggerations have been abandoned, as, for instance, the condemnation to hell of children dying without baptism. Obscure and ambiguous formulae have been eliminated. We must say frankly that Augustine's literary method of emphasizing his thought by exaggerated expressions, issuing in troublesome paradoxes, has often obscured his doctrine, aroused opposition in many minds, or led them into error. Also, it is above all important, in order to comprehend his doctrine, to compile an Augustinian dictionary, not a priori, but after an objective study of his texts. The work would be long and laborious, but how many prejudices it would dispel! . . .

We must note here that even Protestant critics, with a loyalty which does them honour, have in these latter times vindicated Augustine from the false interpretations of Calvin. Dorner, in his "Gesch. der prot. Theologie," had already shown the instinctive repugnance of Anglican theologians to the horrible theories of Calvin. W. Cunningham (Saint Austin, p. 82 sqq.) has very frankly called attention to the complete doctrinal opposition on fundamental points which exists between the Doctor of Hippo and the French Reformers. In the first place, as regards the state of human nature, which is, according to Calvin, totally depraved, for Catholics it is very difficult to grasp the Protestant conception of original sin which, for Calvin and Luther, is not, as for us, the moral degradation and the stain imprinted on the soul of every son of Adam by the fault of the father which is imputable to each member of the family. It is not the deprivation of grace and of all other super-natural gifts; it is not even concupiscence, understood in the ordinary sense of the word, as the struggle of base and selfish instincts against the virtuous tendencies of the soul; it is a profound and complete subversion of human nature' it is the physical alteration of the very substance of our soul. Our faculties, understanding, and will, if not entirely destroyed, are at least mutilated, powerless, and chained to evil. For the Reformers, original sin is not a sin, it is the sin, and the permanent sin, living in us and causing a continual stream of new sins to spring from our nature, which is radically corrupt and evil. For, as our being is evil, every act of ours is equally evil. Thus, the Protestant theologians do not ordinarily speak of the sins of mankind, but only of the sin, which makes us what we are and defiles everything. Hence arose the paradox of Luther: that even in an act of perfect charity a man sins mortally, because he acts with a vitiated nature. Hence that other paradox: that this sin can never be effaced, but remains entire, even after justification, although it will not be any longer imputed; to efface it, it would be necessary to modify physically this human being which is sin. Calvin, without going so far as Luther, has nevertheless insisted on this total corruption. "Let it stand, therefore, as an indubitable truth which no engines can shake," says he (Institution II, v, § 19), "that the mind of man is so entirely alienated from the righteousness of God that he cannot conceive, desire, or design anything but what is weak, distorted, foul, impure or iniquitous, that his heart is so thoroughly environed by sin that it can breathe out nothing but corruption and rottenness; that if some men occasionally make a show of goodness their mind is ever interwoven with hypocrisy and deceit, their soul inwardly bound with the fetters of wickedness." "Now," says Cunningham, "this doctrine, whatever there may be to be said for it, is not the doctrine of Saint Austin. He held that sin is the defect of a good nature which retains elements of goodness, even in its most diseased and corrupted state, and he gives no countenance, whatever to this modern opinion of total depravity." It is the same with Calvin's affirmation of the irresistible action of God on the will. Cunningham shows that these doctrines are irreconcilable with liberty and responsibility, whereas, on the contrary, "St. Austin is careful to attempt to harmonize the belief in God's omnipotence with human responsibility" (St. Austin, p. 86). The Council of Trent was therefore faithful to the true spirit of the African Doctor, and maintained pure Augustinism in the bosom of the Church, by Its definitions against the two opposite excesses. Against Pelagianism it reaffirmed original sin and the absolute necessity of grace (Sess. VI, can. 2); against Protestant predestinationism it proclaimed the freedom of man, with his double power of resisting grace (posse dissentire si velit - Sess. VI, can. 4) and of doing good or evil, even before embracing the Faith (can. 6 and 7).

From: Christ and the Soul: Augustine on Grace, Salvation, and Pelagianism by James J. O'Donnell. O'Donnell is a Professor of Classics (whether he is Catholic or Protestant I don't know), who runs the Augustine of Hippo website. Jaroslav Pelikan said of him, in his review of Gary Wills' biography of Augustine: ". . . James J. O'Donnell, the prodigy of current Augustinian studies, who has produced not only the definitive three-volume critical edition of the Confessiones but also the celebrated Augustine Web Site . . .":

Free Will

Readers with little taste for paradox find many frustrations in Augustine. Those frustrations are about to come to a peak. For the fallen human intellect to understand the workings of divine salvation is, for Augustine, a task destined to glorious failure. Failure, because such understanding will be incomplete, but glorious, because the more intensely that failure is realized, the closer the knowing person comes to God.

To begin with, as always for Augustine, there is God. To God, all that transpires is intelligible and reasonable. God is omniscient, but also omnipotent. All that is, is of God; creation is encompassed by God and dwarfed by him. Appearances are only complicated shadows cast by simple realities we will never fully comprehend. Human beings, created in the image and likeness of God, possess the faculty of reason, and in theory nothing should prevent them from sharing divine knowledge. But
in practice something does interfere. Sin leads to ignorance and misunderstanding, and in this life grace itself leads only to partial and incomplete restoration of the intellect.

But human beings pretend otherwise. They perceive small fragments of the reasonableness of divine creation and think they know the whole story. They grasp a piece of the truth and identify it with the whole. Then attention is drawn to a crucial theological puzzle, a system of logic fails to resolve all the issues that are raised, and scapegoats are sought. Men blame the system, blame the puzzle, blame God himself, but never blame themselves.

The problems raised by Augustine's theology of sin and grace and its limitations were thrust upon with most painful force in the last decade of his life, when some monks in Africa and Gaul, concerned that the value of their own self-denying way of life was undermined by what they saw as defeatist quietism, began propagating ideas that have received in modern times the inaccurate name of "semi-Pelagianism" . . . . The conclusion they reached was that God's grace is a reward for well-intentioned initial efforts by human beings. In other words, some limited role for human merit remains at the root of the theology of salvation. What matters about this opposition is not so much its conclusions as the line of reasoning that led to the dispute.

The monks observed that a thoroughgoing system of divine grace leads to logical difficulties. If grace is absolutely sovereign and human merit entirely nonexistent, does not freedom of the will disappear? Worse, does it not mean that it is God who chooses, not only who will go to heaven, but also who will go to hell? Cannot those who go to hell rightly blame the negligence and cruelty of a God who denied them the free gift given to others just as undeserving? Can God be just if such whimsy reigns? Is God really merciful?

A related question attacks the problem neatly: Is grace resistible? This would seem to suggest an attractive escape route, for if grace is resistible, then those who are damned are responsible for their own damnation. But if the answer to this question is affirmative, we must ask if that means that grace is also acceptable, that is, if it is in the power of human beings to reject it, is it not also in their power to accept it? And has not merit returned to the system? If it is not in our power to accept grace, but only to reject it, the justice and mercy of God remain in question, for God must foreordain which people will be allowed to resist and which will be compelled to accept--and divine whimsy, a terrifying notion, re-enters.

Augustine does not have a simple, comprehensive solution acceptable to all for these dilemmas. His principle, as in the question of original sin, is to cling to what he knows for certain, to attempt to provide explanations for difficulties, but then to stand with what he knows by faith even when logical difficulties remain. Here as always, revelation and experience are everything for Augustine; the arguments of the dialecticians have no authority.

With those warnings, we can turn with trepidation to the Augustinian solution. Augustine believes in predestination, but only in single predestination. God actively chooses certain individuals to be the recipients of his grace, confers it on them in a way that altogether overpowers their own will to sin, and leaves them utterly transformed, to live a life of blessedness. But God does not choose beforehand to send others to hell. God wills that all men be saved (cf. 1 Tim. 2.4), even as he takes
actions that save only certain individuals. Those who are damned, are damned by their own actions.

On these points, Augustine will not be shaken. His opponents (and a fair number of would-be friends) through the centuries will insist that this solution is indistinguishable from double predestination. It will be claimed that this view is pessimistic and proclaims a tyrannical and arbitrary God. Psychology will be invoked to explain the growing gloom of the aging Augustine.

Before we judge Augustine, however, we should attempt to understand him. He knew his answer could only be half a solution. Evil and its sources were still wrapped in mystery for him as the manifestation of non-being in the world of being. Augustine can only attempt to explain the workings of God and his goodness, which are clear and intelligible. To understand the condition of the evil creatures who will not win eternal blessedness is painfully difficult. All this makes hard doctrine.

If the divine deliberation by which some are saved and some are damned is a mystery, however, something less obscure can be said about the condition of the will of the redeemed creature. We must consider for a moment the nature of the faculty of will itself.

In practical terms, it is scarcely too strong to say that the will is the personality. The will is the part of the soul that chooses and acts. All choices are choices of will, and all acts are acts of appetite, hence acts of love, either the divinely inspired love Augustine calls caritas, or the sinful selfish love he calls cupiditas. Personal, conscious existence is not somewhere outside the instrumental faculty we call will, rationally deliberating how to employ that faculty to achieve its ends. Instead, existence, knowledge, and will are an indissociable whole, and all deliberation and choice is of the will--of love. Given this psychology, it is then logical to argue that the power of sin over the individual must be considered when freedom is assessed. The will is always free of external control. There is no such thing as a compelled act for Augustine, one that goes "against the will." Even when we are "compelled" to do something, it is only that the conditions in which the will freely operates are altered.

So freedom of the will from external constraint is always absolute. Its freedom becomes impaired when it begins to choose the wrong kind of love and so to bind itself to inferior choices in a self-perpetuating, self-damning process. When divine grace intervenes, it liberates the individual from the bondage of wrong past choices. Precisely how this happens is a little unclear to Augustine, but it is clear that God, without ever tampering with the interior working of the will itself, can still direct its choices by altering, in perfect omniscience, the circumstances that affect the will.

The whole process of grace is seen by God, eternally knowing all things, as a single unity, but it appears to men as a series, sometimes a lifelong series, of events no one of which necessarily entails any further event. Thus when human beings speak of grace, they speak imperfectly. God's grace cannot be said to be working in the life of an individual even when that individual is destined, at a later date, to rebel, fall into sin, and choose damnation. Augustine describes this process best in another late treatise, The Gift of Perseverance. From a human point of view, the divine grace that effects salvation is best described as Initial Grace plus the Grace of Perseverance. From the divine point of view, it is better to say that unless the Grace of Perseverance is present, the Initial Grace is not finally grace at all but only some lesser gift . . .

Practically, therefore, the life of the Christian is lived on the horns of a dilemma. Grace must be firmly believed to be omnipotent; without grace nothing good can be done. All that is good in the soul must come from God, while all that is bad is of one's own doing. And yet all this appears to the individual as a matter of individual choices of that frustratingly free will. The faithful Christian, therefore, is one who believes utterly in God but who responds to the exigencies of daily life by living as though everything, salvation included, depends on his own actions. God is all-powerful and predestining, but the will is free, and the one who believes and hopes in God must act as though for himself, but act out of a completely disinterested, selfless love--caritas, not cupiditas . . .

One further irony must be faced. The dilemmas of predestination create an urgent sense of frustration by the absence of clear, logically compelling answers. Believers wonder at the ineptitude of the theologians, while skeptics take the failure of the Christians to settle the problem as evidence of the incoherence of the creed. The irony is that both positions are correct, but neither is complete. For what is most significant is precisely that insistence of the human mind on being given a straight answer. The human mind, here and now, naturally expects all problems to have solutions. Men expect, even demand, to make sense of the world. But that quality of the human mind is, to Augustine, a proud and Pelagian trait. The intellect does not willingly yield its control over action. Rebellion and skepticism are more characteristic, as is evident from (and explained by, Augustine would say) the story of Adam and Eve.

The Pelagian position on Christianity is finally a pagan one. God creates the world and issues his commands. Men are to learn the commands, obey them, and so win salvation. The situation is simple, requiring merely that the rules be clear and intelligible and devoid of paradox and confusion. The entire Augustinian system is radically opposed to this. That God appears to us as a master of paradox tells him something about mankind, but nothing about God. Faith, which is what grace instills in the heart, is the assertion that God is God, despite the paradoxes that make him seem arbitrary, unjust, or mysterious. For Augustine, God was always God, he was himself always a sinner, and paradox and mystery were the price he had to pay.

* * * * *

I assert, therefore, that the perseverance by which we persevere in Christ even to the end is the gift of God; and I call that the end by which is finished that life wherein alone there is peril of falling. Therefore it is uncertain whether any one has received this gift so long as he is still alive. For if he fall before he dies, he is, of course, said not to have persevered; and most truly is it said.

(On The Gift Of Perseverance)

He was handed over for our offenses, and he rose again for our justification. "What does this mean, "for our justification" So that He might justify us; so that he might make us just. You will be a work of God, not only because you are a man, but also because you are just. For it is better that you be just than that you be a man. If God made you a man, and you made yourself just, something you were doing would be better than what God did. But God made you without any cooperation on your part. For you did not lend your consent so that God could make you. How could you have consented when you did not exist? But He who made you without your consent does not justify you without your consent. He made you without your knowledge but He does not justify you without your willing it.

{Sermons 169,13}

Alister McGrath - certainly no enemy of Calvin (he published a biography of him in 1990) - writes:

Predestination, for Augustine, refers only to the divine decision to redeem, not to the act of abandoning the remainder of fallen humanity.

For Calvin, logical rigour demands that God actively chooses to redeem or to damn. God cannot be thought of as doing something by default: he is active and sovereign in his actions. Therefore God actively wills the salvation of those who will be saved and the damnation of those who will not.

[Reformation Thought, 2nd ed., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1993, p.125]

Salvation thus lies outside the control of the individual, who is powerless to alter the situation.

[Ibid, p.127]

Likewise, his description of Zwingli's belief seems to me to illustrate that he held to essentially the same idea:

Whether an individual is saved or condemned is totally a matter for God, who freely makes his decision from eternity.

[Ibid., p.121]

But to recognize that Calvin taught double predestination . . . is not to say that this must be taken to be the very centre of his teaching . . .

Calvin was never content with the statement that God, in his goodness, elected to salvation a certain number of men taken from the mass of sinners; he thought that those who had not been chosen had also been the object of a special decree, that of reprobation . . . on this particular point Calvin diverges from St. Augustine, for whom the elect alone are the object of a special decision which withdraws them from the 'massa perditionis,' while the reprobate are simply abandoned by God to the ruin they have incurred by their sins (De correptione et gratia, 7,12, M.L. xliv, 923).

[Francois Wendel, Calvin: The Origins and Development of His Religious Thought, tr. Philip Mairet, New York: Harper & Row, 1963, pp. 264, 280]

Calvin advanced beyond Augustine in two ways. The great African theologian had represented God as active in election to life only. The lost were simply passed over and left to the deserved consequences of sin. To Calvin's thinking, election and reprobation are both alike manifestations of the divine activity. In Augustine's estimate, not all believers even are given the grace of perseverance . . . Calvin's severe logic, insistent that all salvation is independent of merit, led him to assert that damnation is equally antecedent to and independent of demerit .... The sole cause of salvation or of loss is the divine choice.

[Williston Walker, John Calvin, New York: Schocken Books, 1969 (orig. 1906), p. 417]

Calvin goes beyond Augustine in his explicit assertion of double predestination, in which the reprobation of those not elected is a specific determination of God's inscrutable will . . . He feels under obligation to close the door to the notion that anything happens otherwise than under the control of the divine will . . .

He is not content to confine the function of God's will to his having 'passed by' the nonelect in bestowing his saving grace: the action of his will is not 'preterition' but 'reprobation' . . .

This passage briefly shows Calvin as FAVORING THE SUPRALAPSARIAN as opposed to the infralapsarian view of the decrees of God. The issue became controversial in the Netherlands shortly after Calvin's death.

[John T. McNeill, editor of Calvin's Institutes, from his own edition, tr. Ford Lewis Battles, Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960, v. 1, pp. lviii-lix, 469]

Deacon John Whiteford (Orthodox):

Even St. Augustine said that Adam's will was neither inclined towards evil or good, but as as such, a neutral power, as can either incline toward faith, or turn towards unbelief... (NPNF2, Vol 5, p 109).

He also says:

God no doubt wishes all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the Truth; but yet not so as to take away from them free will... (Ibid, p.109)

...if he had willed by his own free will to continue in this state of uprightness . . . without any experience of death and unhappiness he would have received by the merit of that continuance the fulness of blessing with which the holy Angels are also blessed; that is the impossibility of falling any more, and the knowledge of this with absolute certainty.

(On Rebuke and Grace, ch 28, NPNF2 5:483)

The first man had not that grace by which he should never will to be evil, but assuredly he had that in which if he willed to abide he would never be evil, and without which, moreover, he could not by free will be good, but which, nevertheless, by free will he could forsake. God therefore, did not will even him to be without his grace, which he left in his free will: because free will is sufficient for evil but is too little for good, unless it is aided by omnipotent good. And if that man had not forsaken that assistance of his free will, he would always have been good; but he forsook it, and he was forsaken. (Ibid., 484)

St. Augustine on merit:

The Lord made Himself a debtor not by receiving something, but by promising something. One does not say to Him "Pay for what You received," but, "Pay what You promised."

[Commentary on Psalms 83:16. From Jurgens, William A., ed. and tr., The Faith of the Early Fathers, 3 volumes, Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1970, vol. 3, p.19]

You are glorified in the assembly of your Holy Ones, for in crowning their merits you are crowning your own gifts. (En. in Ps. 102:7)

What merit of man is there before grace by which he can achieve grace, as only grace works every one of our good merits in us, and as God, when He crowns our merits, crowns nothing else but His own gifts?

[Ep. 194,5,19; in Ludwig Ott, Fundamentals of Catholic Dogma, p.265]

From my Biblical Treatise on Justification (part of my upcoming book, A Biblical Defense of Catholicism):

In 427 St. Augustine wrote a book entitled Grace and Free Will, in which he sought to instruct those "who believe that free will is denied, if grace is defended . . ." . . . Thus, he espoused a view on human free agency which is diametrically opposed to the positions of Luther and Calvin, even though they constantly attempted to cite him as their forerunner . . . St. Augustine's perspective (and that of the Catholic Church) on human free will is that it mysteriously and paradoxically coexists with God's sovereign prevenient grace, which encompasses it within the sphere of His Providence. It is one thing to acknowledge inscrutable mysteries, another altogether to thereby outright deny elements such as human free will, because we don't possess full understanding of God's ways.
From my "Dialogue on Grace and Predestination":

Calvinism claims to uphold the legacy of St. Augustine, yet St. Augustine wrote in one of his last works, Against Julian (c.428-430):

It is certain that in willing anything, it is we that do the willing, but it is He that enables us to will what is good . . . It is certain that in doing anything, it is we that act but it is He that enables us to act, by His bestowing efficacious powers upon our will.

[II, 157, CSEL, 85.1, 279; from Robert Sungenis, Not By Faith Alone, Santa Barbara, CA: Queenship Pub. Co., 1997, p. 652]

Again, this is the orthodox Catholic, Tridentine, "paradoxical," and Pauline view (Phil 2:13-14). It is not Luther's and Calvin's view.

Augustine wrote in The City of God (c.426):

We are, therefore, in no way compelled, if we retain the foreknowledge of God, to discard our choice of will, or, if we retain choice of will, to deny - which were shocking - God's foreknowledge of future events. Rather, we embrace both . . . Man, therefore, does not sin because God foreknew that he would sin.
[PL 41, 5, 10, 2; in Sungenis, ibid., p. 653]

Likewise, in Grace and Free Choice (427):

Because there are some persons who defend grace to such an extent that they deny man's free will or who think that, when grace is defended, free will is denied, I have decided to write . . . God has revealed to us through his holy Scripture that there is free will in man . . . all these precepts of love would be given to men to no purpose at all if men did not have free will [cites Jas 1:13 ff. and Prov 19:3 in support]. . . See how clearly free will is taught here [goes on to cite accordingly Prov 1:8; 3:7,11,27,29; 5:2; Ps 35:4; Mt 6:19; 10:28; 1 Cor 15:34; 1 Tim 4:14; Jas 2:1; 4:11; 1 Jn 2:15].
[PL 44, 1, 1 / 44, 2, 2 / 44, 18, 37 / 44, 2, 3-4; in Sungenis, ibid., pp. 654-655; many other supporting Augustinian passages given as well]

To sum up: if the Holy Scripture, the Fathers, St, Augustine, Trent, Catholic Tradition, and much of (Arminian) evangelical Protestant theology all espouse this same paradoxical dialectic between grace and free will, I will accept it also. The thought of Luther and Calvin on this is a late-breaking "tradition of men." Why would or should I accept their word on this, if I am serious about following apostolic and patristic Christianity?

And hence there arises no small question, which must be solved by the Lord's gift. If eternal life is rendered to good works, as the Scripture most openly declares: Then He shall reward every man according to his works: how can eternal life be a matter of grace, seeing that grace is not rendered to works, but is given gratuitously, as the apostle himself tells us: To him that worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt; and again: There is a remnant saved according to the election of grace; with these words immediately subjoined: And if of grace, then is it no more of works; otherwise grace is no more grace? How, then, is eternal life by grace, when it is received from works? Does the apostle perchance not say that eternal life is a grace? Nay, he has so called it, with a clearness which none can possibly gainsay. It requires no acute intellect, but only an attentive reader, to discover this. For after saying, The wages of sin is death, he at once added, The grace of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. This question, then, seems to me to be by no means capable of solution, unless we understand that even those good works of ours, which are recompensed with eternal life, belong to the grace of God, because of what is said by the Lord Jesus: Without me ye can do nothing. And the apostle himself, after saying, By grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should boast; saw, of course, the possibility that men would think from this statement that good works are not necessary to those who believe, but that faith alone suffices for them; and again, the possibility of men's boasting of their good works, as if they were of themselves capable of performing them. To meet, therefore, these opinions on both sides, he immediately added, For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath ordained that we should walk in them."
(On Grace and Free Will, 19-20)
Despite the astonishing theological diversity of the late medieval period, a consensus relating to the nature of justification was maintained throughout. The Protestant understanding of the nature of justification represents a theological novum . . . . It will be clear that the medieval period was astonishingly faithful to the teaching of Augustine on the question of the nature of justification, where the Reformers departed from it.
[Alister McGrath, Iustitia Dei: A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification, the Beginnings to the Reformation. 2 vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 1:184-5]
Through this mediator there is reconciled to God the mass of the entire human race which is alienated from Him through Adam.
[Sermons 293,8]
Free will is not taken away because it is assisted, but is assisted in order that it not be taken away.
[Ep 152,2,10]
If grace does not exist, how does he save the world? If there is no free will, how does he judge the world?
[Ep 214,2]

Augustine thought that God condemns but cannot cause wickedness (Ep 194,6,30). He distinguishes between predestination and foreknowledge and explained that sins are the object of the latter (De an. et eius or. 1,7,7; De praed. s. 10,19)

God is good. God is just. Because He is good, He can set free without any merits; because He is just, He cannot condemn anyone without blameworthy actions.
[C. Iul. 3,18,36]
Someone says to me: 'Since we are acted upon, it is not we who act.' I answer, 'No, you both act and are acted upon; and if you are acted upon by the good, you act properly. For the spirit of God who moves you, by so moving, is your Helper. The very term helper makes it clear that you yourself are doing something.'
[Sermons 156,11]
But if someone already regenerate and justified should, of his own will, relapse into his evil life, certainly that man cannot say: 'I have not received'; because he lost the grace he received from God and by his own free choice went to evil.
[Admonition and Grace 6,9]

III. Augustine on Prayers for the Dead, Intercession of the Saints, Penance, and Purgatory

Prayer, however, is offered for other dead who are remembered. For it is wrong to pray for a martyr, to whose prayers we ought ourselves be commended.
[Sermons: 159,1]
By the prayers of the Holy Church, and by the salvific sacrifice, and by the alms which are given for their spirits, there is no doubt that the dead are aided . . . For the whole Church observes this practice which was handed down by the Fathers . . . If, then, works of mercy are celebrated for the sake of those who are being remembered, who would hesitate to recommend them, on whose behalf prayers to God are not offered in vain? It is not at all to be doubted that such prayers are of profit to the dead; but for such of them as lived before their death in a way that makes it possible for these things to be useful to them after death.
[Sermons: 172,2]
The man who perhaps has not cultivated the land and has allowed it to be overrun with brambles has in this life the curse of his land on all his works, and after this life he will have either purgatorial fire or eternal punishment.
[Genesis Defended Against the Manicheans, 2,20,30]
Temporal punishments are suffered by some in this life only, by some after death, by some both here and hereafter; but all of them before that last and strictest judgment. But not all who suffer temporal punishments after death will come to eternal punishments, which are to follow after that judgment.
[The City of God, 21,13]
The prayer . . . is heard on behalf of certain of the dead; but it is heard for those who, having been regenerated in Christ, did not for the rest of their life in the body do such wickedness that they might be judged unworthy of such mercy, nor who yet lived so well that it might be supposed they have no need of such mercy.
[The City of God, 21,24,2]
That there should be some such fire even after this life is not incredible, and it can be inquired into and either be discovered or left hidden whether some of the faithful may be saved, some more slowly and some more quickly in the greater or lesser degree in which they loved the good things that perish, - through a certain purgatorial fire.
[Enchiridion of Faith, Hope & Love, 18,69]
The time which interposes between the death of a man and the final resurrection holds souls in hidden retreats, accordingly as each is deserving of rest or hardship, in view of what it merited when it was living in the flesh. Nor can it be denied that the souls of the dead find relief through the piety of their friends and relatives who are still alive, when the Sacrifice of the Mediator is offered for them, or when alms are given in the church.
[Enchiridion of Faith, Hope & Love, 29,109-110]
We read in the books of the Maccabees [2 Macc 12:43] that sacrifice was offered for the dead. But even if it were found nowhere in the Old Testament writings [Augustine regarded 1st and 2nd Maccabees as Scripture], the authority of the universal Church which is clear on this point is of no small weight, where in the prayers of the priest poured forth to the Lord God at His altar the commendation of the dead has its place.
[The Care That Should be Taken of the Dead, 1,3]

Yet the all-knowing, all-wise John Calvin opines (interspersed with my critical comments in red):

Purgatory is constructed out of many blasphemies . . . it was devised apart from God's Word in curious and bold rashness [32 biblical arguments are given in my biblical treatise on the topic, of which many were multi-faceted and cross-referenced; Calvin deals with five in this obscurantist diatribe in his Institutes] . . . some passages of Scripture were ignorantly distorted to confirm it [Calvin, of course, knows better than all the Liturgies and the Fathers, including St. Augustine!] ...

When expiation of sins is sought elsewhere than in the blood of Christ, when satisfaction is transferred elsewhere, silence is very dangerous [false dichotomies, based on Calvin's own "ignorance" of Catholic soteriology] . . . Purgatory is a deadly fiction of Satan, which nullifies the cross of Christ [ditto], inflicts unbearable contempt upon God's mercy [ditto], and overturns and destroys our faith [where, then, was the faith for 1500 years before Calvin?] . . . When the notion of satisfaction is destroyed, purgatory itself is straightway torn up by the very roots [17 biblical arguments for penance, satisfaction, etc. are given in my treatise on that subject as well]. But if it is perfectly clear . . . that the blood of Christ is the sole satisfaction for the sins of believers, the sole expiation, the sole purgation, what remains but to say that purgatory is simply a dreadful blasphemy against Christ? [It indeed would be if it required the false dichotomy that Calvin attributes to it, i.e., isolating our meritorious acts from God's grace which always and necessarily precedes and engulfs them] . . .

Surely, any man endowed with a modicum of wisdom easily recognizes that whatever he reads among the ancient writers concerning this matter was allowed because of public custom and common ignorance. I admit that the fathers themselves were also carried off into error. For heedless credulity commonly deprives men's minds of judgment [ah, luckily we have Calvin to enlighten us, when far inferior guides such as St. Cyprian, St. Chrysostom, St. Ambrose, and St. Augustine have been foolishly led down the primrose path of incredulity!] . . .

Though I concede to the ancient writers of the church that it seemed a pious act to help the dead [gee, thanks for small favors], we ought ever to keep the rule that cannot deceive: that it is not lawful to interject anything of our own in our prayers. But our requests ought to be subjected to the Word of God [i.e., Calvin's interpretation of it, over against the universal Tradition of the Church up to his time] . . .

The ancients rarely and only perfunctorily commended their dead to God in the communion of the Sacred Supper [above historical data would lead one to think otherwise].

[Institutes, Book 3, ch. 5, sec. 6,10; first volume, pp. 676, 682-683 in 1960 edition]

IV. Various Other Catholic Beliefs

Augustine's many explicit statements concerning the literal, actual, Real Presence of the Body and Blood of Christ in the Eucharist and the Sacrifice of the Mass are detailed in my paper St. Augustine's Belief in the Real Presence.

St. Augustine also accepted baptismal regeneration, papal supremacy and jurisdiction and the primacy of Rome, Mary's sinlessness, apostolic succession, authoritative Tradition (even oral), and the so-called Apocryphal books of the Old Testament.

Some Protestant, huh? Some precursor of Calvin and Luther . . . If Augustine was more Protestant than Catholic, then I am more the man in the moon, made of green cheese than I am an Anglo-Saxon, half-Canadian middle class Michigander. Those of us who believe such things detailed above today are supposedly not even Christians, and lost in gross idolatry and paganism, according to our (anti-Catholic brand) "Reformed" overlords and judges, yet those same people heap praise upon the greatness of St. Augustine and pretend that he is one of them. Go figure. I always believed that truth was stranger than fiction.

See the closely-related companion piece:

Dialogue: Is Sola Fide (Faith Alone) a Legitimate Development of Patristic and Augustinian Soteriology?


Uploaded by Dave Armstrong on 24 November 2000, from public list discussions.

1 Corinthians 3:9 and John Calvin's Distorted Understanding of the Council of Trent's Doctrine of Grace

For we are laborers together with God; ye are God's husbandry, ye are God's building.
The following is from John Calvin's commentary on Corinthians:
9. For we are fellow-laborers with God. Here is the best argument. It is the Lord's work that we are employed in, and it is to him that we have devoted our labors: hence, as he is faithful and just, he will not disappoint us of our reward. That man, accordingly, is mistaken who looks to men, or depends merely on their remuneration. Here we have an admirable commendation of the ministry -- that while God could accomplish the work entirely himself, he calls us, puny mortals, to be as it were his coadjutors, and makes use of us as instruments. As to the perversion of this statement by the Papists, for supporting their system of free-will, it is beyond measure silly, for Paul shows here, not what men can effect by their natural powers, but what the Lord accomplishes through means of them by his grace. (emphasis added)
Of course, Calvin's caricature is not Catholic teaching at all. Catholics don't believe men can do any good "by their natural powers," nor do we deny sola gratia in the slightest. Simply cooperating with the grace is not "human generation"; it is "God generation." The Council of Trent is very clear on this:
Canons on Justification

CANON I.-If any one saith, that man may be justified before God by his own works, whether done through the teaching of human nature, or that of the law, without the grace of God through Jesus Christ; let him be anathema.

CANON III.-If any one saith, that without the prevenient inspiration of the Holy Ghost, and without his help, man can believe, hope, love, or be penitent as he ought, so as that the grace of Justification may be bestowed upon him; let him be anathema.

CANON X.-If any one saith, that men are just without the justice of Christ, whereby He merited for us to be justified; or that it is by that justice itself that they are formally just; let him be anathema.

CHAPTER V - . . . the beginning of the said justification is to be derived from the prevenient grace of God through Jesus Christ . . . without any merits existing on their parts . . . yet is he not able, by his own free-will, without the grace of God, to move himself into justice in His sight . . .

CHAPTER VIII - . . . none of those things which precede justification -- whether faith or works -- merit the grace itself of justification. For if it be a grace, it is not now by works; otherwise, as the same Apostle says, grace is no more grace.

Calvin himself, in his Acts of the Council of Trent, with the Antidote (1547), states regarding Canons I and III above,
To Canons I, II, and III, I say Amen.
(from Selected Works of John Calvin: Tracts and Letters, Volume 3, Tracts, Part 3, edited and translated by Henry Beveridge, Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1983, p. 147; reprinted from the same work, published by the Calvin Translation Society, Edinburgh, 1851)

So what is Calvin's problem? It would seem to be a difficulty in understanding logic, for how can he agree, on the one hand, with the Tridentine statement, denying:

1) ". . . that man may be justified before God by his own works, whether done through the teaching of human nature, or that of the law, without the grace of God through Jesus Christ . . . "
yet also assert in his commentary on 1 Corinthians 3:9 that Catholics supposedly believe, pertaining to this passage, that:
2) "men can effect by their natural powers" (rather than being "instruments" of "what the Lord accomplishes through means of them by his grace").
The former claim of #2 above is a gross distortion of Catholic teaching, whereas the latter clause is precisely the Catholic teaching. Calvin simply doesn't know it. Perhaps his commentary was written before the clarifications of Trent, and we can grant his ignorance, in charity. His Antidote to Trent, however, continues to distort and misrepresent Tridentine, Catholic teaching on soteriology; for example:
. . . their definition at length contains nothing else than the trite dogma of the schools: that men are justified partly by the grace of God and partly by their own works; thus only shewing themselves somewhat more modest than Pelagius was.

(Ibid., p. 108)

In fact, this never has been Catholic teaching. Calvin couldn't be more mistaken. Catholicism has always condemned Pelagianism and Semi-Pelagianism, and Trent does so as well:
[Semi-Pelagianism], while not denying the necessity of Grace for salvation, maintained that the first steps towards the Christian life were ordinarily taken by the human will and that Grace supervened only later.

(Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, ed. F.L. Cross, Oxford Univ. Press, rev. 1983, 1258)

The Encyclopedia Britannica (1985 ed., vol. 10, 625) states:
The result of Semi-Pelagianism, however, was the denial of the necessity of God's unmerited, supernatural, gracious empowering of man's will for saving action . . . From [529] . . . Semi-Pelagianism was recognized as a heresy in the Roman Catholic Church.
The Second Council of Orange (529 A.D.), accepted as dogma by the Catholic Church, dogmatically taught in its Canon VII:
If anyone asserts that we can, by our natural powers, think as we ought, or choose any good pertaining to the salvation of eternal life . . . without the illumination and inspiration of the Holy Spirit . . . he is misled by a heretical spirit . . . [goes on to cite Jn 15:5, 2 Cor 3:5]
St. Augustine wrote (and the Catholic Church wholeheartedly concurs):
What merit of man is there before grace by which he can achieve grace, as only grace works every one of our good merits in us, and as God, when He crowns our merits, crowns nothing else but His own gifts?

(Ep. 194,5,19)

Yet Calvin continues in his rather spectacular and inexcusable misrepresentation of Tridentine teaching:
But the Neptunian fathers, in a new smithy, forge what was unknown to Augustine, viz., that the reception of grace is not of God, inasmuch as it is by the free movement of our own will we assent to God calling.

(Ibid., 111)

This is expressly contradicted by Chapter V:
. . . yet is he not able, by his own free-will, without the grace of God, to move himself into justice in His sight . . .
and Chapter VIII:
. . . none of those things which precede justification -- whether faith or works -- merit the grace itself of justification. For if it be a grace, it is not now by works; otherwise, as the same Apostle says, grace is no more grace.
Therefore, the "reception of grace" in Catholic soteriology is not only not "not of God" (as Calvin wrongly thinks), but -- quite the contrary -- ALL of God, since free-will could do nothing towards God and grace, but for God's grace itself. Free-will and anything it could do are also part of "those things which precede justification," referred to in Chapter VIII. It cannot merit grace or do anything on its own to predispose it in that direction. Calvin is flat-out wrong.

Part of his problem, and that of Calvinists generally, is a false notion of free-will and God's grace somehow being inexorably, inherently opposed: an "either/or" mentality where there need not be one. St. Paul views them as working together, with the free will being entirely caused by God. Our work is God's work insofar as we do what He commands us and enables us to do, as St. Augustine notes above, and seen in many passages; notably Ephesians 2:8-10 and Philippians 2:12-13.

Even Calvin himself realizes this in some fashion, by citing St. Augustine in supposed opposition to Catholic teaching. Once again, he assumes that St. Augustine is teaching something the Catholic Church doesn't teach, when in fact, we agree entirely, as shown in the above decrees. Here is what Calvin cites from Augustine:

We therefore will, but God works in us also to will. We work, but God causes us also to work.

The good which we possess not without our own will we should never possess unless he worked in us also to will.

It is certain that we will when we are willing, but he makes us to be willing. It is certain that we do when we do, but he makes us to do by affording most effectual strength to the will.

(Aug. Lib. ii de Bon. Persev. cap. 13; Lib. ii 23, de Grat. et Liber. Arbit. / Ibid., 112-113)

So Calvin gets it, but he doesn't, at the same time. It is strange that he can't see that Augustine's teaching is also Catholic teaching. Right after these citations of Augustine he resumes his absurd distortion of Trent:
The whole may be thus summed up -- Their error consists in sharing the work between God and ourselves, so as to transfer to ourselves the obedience of a pious will in assenting to divine grace, whereas this is the proper work of God himself. (Ibid., 113)
Catholics wholeheartedly agree with St. Augustine and Calvin that "this is the proper work of God himself." We (and also Protestant Arminians) absolutely deny that we teach a Pelagian or Semi-Pelagian notion of "sharing the work between God and ourselves," as if man's part of that generates or produces grace or merit on its own. The true biblical and Catholic teaching is paradoxical, but it doesn't deny that man has free-will altogether. Calvin is the one who is sadly bound by unnecessary false dichotomies in his thought.

Now back to Calvin's commentary:

As to the exposition given by some -- that Paul, being God's workman, was a fellow-workman with his colleagues, that is, with the other teachers -- it appears to me harsh and forced, and there is nothing whatever in the case that shuts us up to have recourse to that refinement. For it corresponds admirably with the Apostle's design to understand him to mean, that, while it is peculiarly the work of God to build his temple, or cultivate his vineyard, he calls forth ministers to be fellow-laborers, by means of whom He alone works; but, at the same time, in such a way, that they in their turn labor in common with him. As to the reward of works, consult my Institutes.
This is also precisely Catholic teaching (if only Calvin could figure it out). In the Institutes of the Christian Religion, in commenting on 1 Corinthians 3:9, he expresses it another way, also in complete concurrence with Catholic thought:
. . . they are called "co-workers" not because they bring anything of themselves, but because God uses their work after he has rendered them capable of it and furnished them with the necessary gifts.

(Inst., II, V, 18, vol. 1, p. 338 in McNeill / Battles ed., Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960)

. . . the apostles express the power of the Spirit in their preaching, as far as God uses the instruments ordained by himself for the unfolding of his spiritual grace. Nevertheless, this distinction is to be kept: we should remember what man can do of himself, and what is reserved to God.

(Inst., IV, XIV, 11, vol. 2, pp. 1286-1287)

And in an altogether excellent, insightful commentary, Calvin writes:
Briefly, in many passages he not only makes himself a co-worker of God but also assigns himself the function of imparting salvation [1 Cor. 3:9 ff.]. In mentioning all these things Paul did not intend to credit to himself even a particle apart from God . . . Surely we ought to remember those statements in which God, ascribing to himself illumination of mind and renewal of heart, warns that it is sacrilege for man to claim any part of either for himself.

(Inst., IV, I, 6, vol. 2, 1021)

One would hope that the above exposition would come as good news to Reformed, who are inclined to be suspicious of Catholic theology, as it shows yet again that the two competing systems are indeed in quite close agreement in several respects. I submit that 1 Corinthians 3:9 is one instance where there is little or no disagreement at all, once Catholic teaching is correctly comprehended. Unfortunately, John Calvin (while correctly exegeting the verse) did not do such a good job in portraying a Catholic view of it (which is virtually identical to his).

Uploaded by Dave Armstrong on 28 February 2003.

Critique of Presuppositionalist Christian Apologetics (Specifically the Van Tillian Version) (vs. Tim Enloe)

Tim Enloe, a Reformed polemicist, has written a three-part Outline of Presuppositionalism (outdated links). This is my reply. Tim's words will be in blue. Cornelius Van Til's words will be in red. Tim's frequent italics will not be retained. Readers can consult his papers for those, and also his own source information (which I will not include here).

I touched specifically upon this subject in an old paper: "Live" Dialogue on the Rationality of Christian Belief, Presuppositionalism, and Philosophical Arguments for God's Existence. By a coincidence, this was written exactly four years ago from the time of this writing (23 October 2004). Here are some of my thoughts from that exchange, which will serve as an introductory section for my more extensive critique:

Romans 1 teaches us that we intuitively know there is a God, through His creation. But I think the logic is different; it is the argument from design in primitive form, in my opinion . . . Romans 1, which I accept primarily on faith, and secondarily on the evidence which truth always sets forth, by the nature of things.

I accept revelation and inspiration, but I think it is also verifiable by psychology and anthropology, independent of Christian presuppositions.

Truth is truth wherever it is found. Aristotle and Plato found much truth, and they didn't have Christian presuppositions. One can do much science without Christian presuppositions, though I would argue that science itself is ultimately grounded in Christian metaphysics and even revelation at a very fundamental level.

The basis for rationality is the universe as God created it, and our minds as God created them, which are capable of perceiving reality and making order out of existence. I deny that there can be a world without logic, . . . [which] is eternal insofar as it is grounded in the character and "mind" of God, just as love is. The universe inherently "has" logic, just as it inherently has the God who created it.

I don't think any of the theistic arguments are absolute, airtight proofs. I think their force comes from the power of cumulative evidence and converging conclusions, all pointing to God. But it always requires faith. God can't be reduced to philosophy. I merely say that good philosophy is entirely consistent with a Christian outlook, and revelation, and the supernatural . . . in my apologetic, theism (philosophically speaking) is a super-probable and plausible hypothesis, based on the cumulative evidence of both philosophy and science, and also human experience and history. But it isn't proven by those things. It is only "certain" by faith. I ultimately believe in faith, but when I go out to evangelize and "be all things to all people," I must argue in terms they can understand, apart from faith propositions, which they don't accept like we do. Just as Paul did, of course (Mars Hill).

Your point of view (insofar as I understand presuppositionalism) says that the Christian and the non-believer have little or nothing in common epistemologically. That I emphatically reject. So when you try to persuade a philosophically-minded person to be a Christian, how do you go about it?

And now onto my response to Tim's arguments. The Table of Contents (green section titles) are my own), not from Tim's paper.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

I. Preliminaries

II. The Distinction Between Being and Knowing (Ontology and Epistemology) and Reliance on Circular Reasoning

III. The Basis, Warrant, and Justification for Beliefs and Presuppositions

IV. Philosophy and Theology Converge, Yet Rationality and Logic Are Spurned?

V. Distortions of St. Thomas Aquinas' True Positions on Natural Theology and Universals

VI. The Place of Scripture in Presuppositionalism and Catholicism

VII. Van Til's Anti-Catholicism and Profound Misunderstanding of Catholic Theology

VIII. The Inevitable Internal Difficulties and Incoherence of Presuppositionalism

IX. Does Holy Scripture Teach Natural Theology in Romans 1?

X. "Self-Interpretation" and Miscellany

XI.Conclusion: "The Starting Point" of Christian Philosophy and Apologetics

Sources


I. Preliminaries

I've decided to take the time to do a few posts on presuppositionalism, so as to hopefully spell out the differences between it and the "Platonist" method I outlined [link following] in this post about the Roman Catholic approach to "evidences".

Of course, Tim begs the question by implying (and assuming) that Catholicism has an exclusively "Platonist" apologetic or philosophical method (whether in quotes or not). There are a number of different Catholic approaches. But to delve into that would be beyond our immediate purview. I simply note the factual falsehood.

This first post is actually taken straight out of my larger series "Sacralism, Secularism, and the Christian Antithesis". I thought the basic summary I put together for that series would also serve as a good introduction to this set of posts.

I: The Christian Antithesis and Its Sociological Implications

A key concept in contemporary Reformed theology is that of the "antithesis" between Christianity and all unbelieving modes of living.

Well sure, the "mode of living" fundamentally differs, but I thought we were talking about apologetics and philosophical premises, not lifestyle.

As Cornelius Van Til wrote, the antithesis "is between those for whom the final center of reference in knowledge lies in man, and those for whom the final center of reference for knowledge lies in God, as this God speaks in Scripture."[1] Broadly speaking this antithesis lies between Christian theism (with all its corollaries) and all other views (with all their corollaries) which deny Christian theism.

Indeed, this is the difference between Christianity and secularism or atheism, not between different models of apologetics, which all agree that God is the ultimate frame and ground of reference, as far as I can tell.

However, Van Til also observed that no one, whether unbeliever or Christian, is ever fully consistent with his own side of the antithesis - a "consistent apologetic" is to be ever the goal of the Christian, but cannot be achieved this side of the consummation.[2]

I would vehemently deny this. Van Til casually accepts that his own system is circular (as we shall see later), but that doesn't mean that all other systems are either logically circular or inconsistent.

The antithesis is metaphysical (man is what God says he is, not what he himself wishes he was), ethical (man is always responsible to God for his sins), and in principle (common grace prevents fallen man from fully living out his radical rebellion against God).[3] Finally, it is of critical importance to realize that the antithesis

asserts that Christianity saves the whole man…with his culture. It even saves the culture of unbelievers. It provides for its absorption into the Christian view of things without resulting in the destruction of the essence of Christianity itself. It makes Kuyper's slogan of Pro Rege apply to the whole of life, not merely to worship.[4]

[footnotes #1-10 refer to: Greg L. Bahnsen, Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings and Analysis (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 1998) ]

I have no particular objection, prima facie.

Given these things, the essence of Christian theism is submission to the Word of God while the essence of unbelieving thought is the attempt to be "autonomous" - literally "a law unto oneself".

This is self-evident, as far as it goes (all Christians claim to submit to the Bible). It is, however, too limited, in that it seems to preclude a philosophy or method of hermeneutics or exegesis from the outset. It is too simplistic (what does such submission mean and entail?; how do we know which writing is this "Word of God"?; indeed, why assume that such a Divine Word has to always be in writing?; who interprets this Word authoritatively?, who decides interpretational disputes?, etc.). Beyond that, it is also too narrow of a criterion because Christianity is far more than submission to written revelation. Reformed blogmaster Alastair Roberts issued the following interesting critique on Tim's blog:

On the subject of Van Tillian presuppositionalist apologetics in general, I fear that it can often fall into the trap of rationalism. God's Word confronts us in many forms. Not all of these forms are primarily verbal. By identifying special revelation as 'Scripture' I fear that we might be at risk of giving the intellect too privileged a role.

Another thing that I have often wondered about is whether it is helpful to speak in terms of Scripture being 'self-interpretative'. In order to interpret Scripture rightly it is not enough to interpret Scripture out of Scripture, narrowly conceived. Rather, it is necessary to interpret Scripture out of the life of the Church, a life that is constituted by more than just the verbal words of God. The life of the Church should ideally be entirely constituted by the Word of God, but I am cautious about narrowing my understanding of the Word of God to just the written Word. God does not just communicate Himself verbally.

Our interpretation of God and the world is a dynamic and lived out interpretation, not merely a set of ideas. Consequently, I am not entirely satisfied with the idea that God's 'pre-interpretation' of the world for Adam was a thoroughly verbal one. In some sense, practices like the Eucharist ‘interpret’ the world in a manner that exceeds words. God's pre-interpretation of the world for Adam may have included (and did, I believe) constituting him in particular 'Eucharistic' practices.

I feel that the character of the distinction between 'natural' and 'supernatural' revelation needs to be questioned. In many respects it may be a product of rationalistic theology. 'Supernatural' revelation is often too closely identified with 'verbal' revelation.

However, if we start with an understanding of Christ as the cosmic Word by which all things are upheld and consist and in whom all things are being gathered together, we can move towards a far richer understanding of revelation in general.

The revelation of God in Christ creates, in its own way, a new 'natural' theology as it creates a new world in the Church. The old world is dying and is in disharmony with the reality of God. However, the world is redeemed in Jesus Christ and in Him we once again begin to move with the grain of the universe (as Hauerwas puts it in the title of his fantastically insightful book). The new world order in the Church is created by the Word and Spirit of God. Out of this new world order we come to know God as he truly is as the creation is reconstituted in communion with the Triune God. We also begin to understand riches of God's Word that were formerly hidden in the old world order. Natural revelation is progressive and not static.

This understanding of revelation frees us from what I always felt was a tendency to readmit a nature/grace dichotomy in through the back door. Far more continuity between pre- and postlapsarian revelation is maintained. This understanding of revelation is also more Trinitarian, in my humble opinion.

I would be interested to see Van Til brought into dialogue with authors outside the Reformed tradition, like Hauerwas and the Radical Orthodoxy crowd.

I responded, in the same comment thread:
My next paper will be a fairly in-depth critique of this three-part paper on presuppositionalism. Perhaps it'll be something of what Al is looking for, since it will be coming from my own Catholic outlook (but it'll draw heavily on Reformed writers R.C. Sproul and John Gerstner, and also non-Reformed apologist Norman Geisler). I hope you and Al and others will discuss it, if we want to truly understand the various Christian outlooks on apologetics and epistemology. We can do this! It is possible!
And Tim, in turn, replied (10-23-04):
Dave, critique away. Just keep in mind my disclaimer at the beginning about the post being "educational" not "confrontational". Quoting from Sproul and Gerstner will be good, since their book Classical Apologetics is an excellent Reformed defense of traditional natural theology projects and the "autonomy" of Reason. I may or may not do a couple more posts on presup stuff (like one on how it thinks of "theistic proofs"). We'll see if I have time.
Again, Bahnsen:
“Autonomy” refers to being a law unto oneself, so that one’s thinking is independent of any outside authority, including God’s. Autonomous reasoning takes itself philosophically as the final point of reference and interpretation, the ultimate court of intellectual appeal; it presumes to be self-governing, self-determinative, and self-directing.[5]
A major characteristic of autonomous thinking is the belief that “neutrality” is possible—a myth that typically functions on the epistemological level when the unbeliever presents his own thinking as not being metaphysically-religiously conditioned, but “objective”, or “neutral”.[6] This naturally leads to an emphasis upon the individual as the final arbiter of truth, for as needful as some interplay of multiple “authorities” is (no finite man can know everything), at the end of the day the principle of auto-nomy, “self-law”, mandates that
…the final point of reference is still the would-be autonomous man. The experts may differ; it is up to every man finally to decide for himself. This is proper; the sanctity of the human person must not be violated. Ask any man to accept anything on pure authority, the sort of authority that the Bible claims for itself, and you are virtually asking him to deny his manhood. You are then asking him to be irrational and therefore to deny him the use of the powers that constitute his personality.[7]
What Bahnsen describes is humanism, not Christianity. Whoever applies such a method or mode of thought to apologetics or philosophy of religion is not thinking Christianly. So I don't see how this is particularly relevant.

Thus, on the most basic level and across the board of all of human life under God, there is no such thing as neutrality. This is as true for formal, abstract epistemology as it is for whole cultures and the internal, public interactions of their individual members. “There is…no neutral territory between covenant-keepers and covenant breakers. The antitheses of principle is equally real and equally basic at every point of contact between them…The fate of the empire is always involved.”[8]

There is indeed epistemological neutral ground. More on this later . . .

This reminds us of that grand principle of Reformed thinking, covenantalism, which at its basic level says that “in all things man is face to face with God…whether we eat or drink or do anything else, to the glory of God, that is the heart of the covenant idea…[which is] in the nature of the case, all inclusive.”[9] In other words, not only is it impossible to ever be “neutral” in one’s thinking and actions, but it is also impossible to be “solitary” in one’s thinking and actions: everything in God’s world is connected and interdependent because of the covenantal relationship between God and that which he has created.

But of course.

There are only two kinds of people: covenant-keepers and covenant-breakers. And, significantly, not all “who are at heart covenant keepers are such self-consciously”.[10] It is possible for someone to genuinely be a Christian and yet think and act like a non-Christian—in which case Christian apologetics comes into play even with respect to other Christians.

I agree.

In Part 1 of this series it was stated that a major theme of presuppositionalism is that there is no neutrality, no autonomy, under God. In this part I want to unpack an implication of this denial of autonomy--namely, the contention that Christians should not wish to defend a "generic theism" but rather a specifically Christian theism.

II. The Necessary and Inescapable Ontological Foundation of All Reality and Thought

In his book Christian Apologetics, Cornelius Van Til writes that "Christianity and theism are implied in one another....Christianity can never be separated from some theory about the existence and the nature of God."[11]

I should think not: Christianity being a species of theism. But theism doesn't imply Christianity. Islam and Judaism are both theistic but they do not imply Christianity.

All Christian doctrines are ultimately traceable back to the God whose real existence is the only reason that they exist in the first place. This may seem like an obvious point,

Yes, it sure is.

but Van Til and those who defend his system often insist that non-presuppositional methods are guilty, at various points, of apologetically compromising the natural place of the Christian doctrine of God. That is, such systems fail to orient their methods of disputing with unbelievers around the essential and undeniable ontological foundation not just of Christianity as a religion, but actually of all reality.

One doesn't argue with someone of a different persuasion by merely stating one's own, as if it were self-evident. That doesn't require compromising one's own position, but rather, arging from a perspective of "granting hypothetically that a, b, and c are true . . . " In the endeavor of trying to reveal the falsity of an opposing view, one has to attack that view from the inside and show internal inconsistencies, incoherence, and implausibility. That can't be done by merely stating one's own view (which is preaching, not apologetics). Besides, ontology and epistemology are two different things.

The presuppositional method thus begins with the presupposition that "the ontologically-self contained Trinity" exists and that only because the Trinity exists is any reality or thinking about reality even possible.

Well, that is no different from saying that God makes all things in creation possible. Since God subsists in Three Persons, and God is the necessary, self-existent, eternal Being, then the Holy Trinity makes all things possible. But that is only stating the obvious for any Christian. It says little about how one goes about trying to convince an unbeliever of the reality of Christianity and the Holy Trinity.

II. The Distinction Between Being and Knowing (Ontology and Epistemology) and Reliance on Circular Reasoning

Because the Christian is a Christian (and not a non-Christian), he is not supposed to begin his vindication of the Christian faith by assuming that non-Christian ways of thinking have prima facie plausibility and must be refuted by means of "neutral" standards--that is, standards which purportedly do not partake of any "religious" commitments, but which essentially stand on their own, outside of ultimate commitments concerning the nature and being of God (i.e., "auto-nomous", "self-law"). For the presuppositionalist there are no commitments that stand outside of presuppositions about God; all commitments are shaped by one's view of God.

As Greg Bahnsen writes,

...We ought not to espouse one thing theologically, and then practice something else in our general scholarship...Christian scholars and apologists must be thoroughly "self conscious" about the character of their epistemological position, letting its standards regiment and regulate every detail of their system of beliefs and its application.[12]
This misses the point of apologetics altogether, and is fundamentally confused, in failing to make a crucial distinction between being and knowing. Christian apologist Norman Geisler elaborates:
First of all, fideists confuse epistemology and ontology. That is, they fail to distinguish the order of knowing and the order of being. The Christian fideist may very well be right about the fact that there is a God, but this begs the question unless he can tell how he knows this is the case. God may indeed have revealed himself to us through the Bible, but how do we know that the Bible is the Word of God? Other books with contrary teachings also claim to be the Word of God (e.g., the Koran). Assuming the truth of Christianity, a Christian fideist is right in what he believes about God but wrong in the reason for that belief. Certainly if there is a God and all truth comes from him, it follows that even the very criteria of determining truth from error will be God-given. But God is what is to be proven, and we cannot begin by assuming his existence as a fact. If we do not have any tests for truth with which we can even begin, we can never make truth claims nor can we even know something is true. We can simply believe without justification what we want to believe. But in this case so can any idiotic, insane, or contrary view be simply believed. And how is one to say who if anyone has the truth? Without an epistemological way of knowing the truth, no ontological truth claims can be pressed.

(Geisler, 61-62)

The heart of the presuppositionalist apologetic method is, thus, what has been called "the transcendental argument". Essentially, the transcendental argument focuses on the question "What conditions must be fulfilled for knowledge to be possible?" Throughout human history, many answers have been given to this question, but all of them except for Christianity arrive, in their various ways, at the answer that man is the (autonomous) precondition for knowledge. The ancient Greek philosophical formula, "Man is the measure of all things" is one example, and it has over time produced many "schools" of thought superficially different, but fundamentally the same. Bahnsen, for example, demonstrates the workings of autonomy in the two major pre-Kantian schools of philosophy, rationalism and empiricism:
...The autonomous rationalists [Descartes, Spinoza, Leibniz] maintained that there are self-evident truths from which we can deduce substantial conclusions about the nature of reality. The wildly different conclusions about reality at which they arrived made it rather incredible that their premises were genuinely self-evident and that their deductions were genuinely necessary. The autonomous empiricists [Locke, Berkeley, Hume] rejected all innate ideas, maintaining that only particulars exist, and said that we know and prove things by common sense and observation of the world. This too led to philosophical embarrassment, in that the empirical demand for verification (or the tracing of our particular ideas back to their origin) was not itself a truth that could be empirically verified, and the nature of the particulars that were acknowledged to exist was hotly disputed...Enlightenment epistemology was a shambles in both Europe (the rationalists) and Great Britain (the empiricists). Hume could comment: "If reasoning be considered in an abstract view, it furnishes invincible arguments against itself!" The vaunted "Age of Reason" had collapsed into subjectivism and skepticism, failing to find a reliable method of knowing--and even disagreeing sharply over the nature of "reasoning" itself.[13]
According to Bahnsen, Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) got the closest of any of the autonomous philosophers to a truly transcendental (presuppositional) method because driven by seeing the fruitless stalemates of the rationalists and empiricists, he tried to take elements of both and create a system that would recognize both objectivity and subjectivity in the human knowing process. Kant recognized that the way out of the rationalist / empiricist deadlock was the program of "transcendental analysis", which again, asks "what the preconditions are for the intelligibility of human experience."[14] The idea as Kant proposed it was to get beyond rationalism and empiricism and see what both of them "presupposed" in common. The problem was, says Bahnsen (summarizing Van Til's own objection to Kant) is that "Kant's scheme was arbitrary, offering no proof that the structure of the mind is universally the same or that our physical cognitive faculties do not change from time to time in a contingent world."[15]

Note from this example that it is indeed possible to suggest different things than Christianity as being the presuppositions that ground reality and thought.[16] Ultimately, however, the presuppositionalist maintains that Christian theism (not "generic theism!) is the only presupposition that escapes the dilemmas of the autonomous man--the only presupposition that can account for the intelligibility of man's experience. The form of argument that is used to spell this out is, consequently, often called "the impossibility of the contrary". This means that, as Bahnsen quotes Van Til:

One shows that on his [the unbeliever's] assumptions all things are meaningless. Science would be impossible; knowledge of anything in any field would be impossible. No fact could be distinguished from any other fact...Thus every fact--not some facts--every fact clearly and not probably proves the truth of Christian theism. If Christian theism is not true then nothing is true.[17]
This brings us to the central difficulty of Van Til's apologetic system: he claims that other views are meaningless and true knowledge impossible to attain. He arrives at this conclusion by reasoning. Yet when we ask by what reasoning does he conclude that his system is the only possible one to hold, we find (quite remarkably) that he consciously offers logical circularity (!). Reformed theologians and apologists R.C. Sproul and John Gerstner are rightly very critical of this absurd approach to the truth-claims of Christianity:
In all systems of thought except presuppositionalism circular reasoning is considered demonstrative evidence of error. In presuppositionalism, instead of being a vicious circle, it is a sign of intellectual virtue. While neo-orthodoxy could say that "contradiction is the hallmark of truth," presuppositionalist orthodoxy makes circularity the hallmark of truth. This "glorious circle" distinguishes revealed truth presupposed from all other systems which are circular also but ingloriously so . . . a circle gets one nowhere and . . . those who travel in these circles either admit this, or are naked fideists.

(Sproul et al, 318)

To admit one's own presuppositions and to point out the presuppositions of others is therefore to maintain that all reasoning is, in the nature of the case, circular reasoning. The starting point, the method, and the conclusion are always involved in one another.

{Van Til, 118 / Van Til [2], 101}

This definition of circular reasoning involves Van Til in . . . the exercise of petitio principii -- question begging. This fallacy of circular reasoning is defined by Irving Copi:
In attempting to establish the truth of a proposition, one often casts about for acceptable premises from which the proposition in question can be deduced as conclusion. If one assumes as a premise for his argument the very conclusion he intends to prove, the fallacy committed is that of petitio principii, or begging the question.

{Copi, 83}

With respect to the existence of God and the authority of the Bible, presuppositionalists frankly admit to the use of circular reasoning in precisely this sense . . .
The only alternative to "circular reasoning" as engaged in by Christians, no matter on what point they speak, is that of reasoning on the basis of isolated facts and isolated minds, with the result that there is no possibility of reasoning at all. Unless as sinners we have an absolutely inspired Bible, we have no absolute God interpreting reality for us and unless we have an absolute God interpreting for us, there is no true interpretation at all.

{Van Til [3], 142}

Here Van Til not only reasserts this principle of circular reasoning, but gives the reason for so doing. We say that circular reasoning is the end of all reasoning and Van Til mot only considers it the beginning of all reasoning but he gives a reason for the necessity of circular reasoning. This is a circle within a circle. If Van Til can prove that circular reasoning is necessary if there is to be any reasoning at all, he has proven circular reasoning by noncircular reasoning . . . one simply cannot live in circles and think as a rational human being. In order to justify abnormal, antitraditional, irrational patterns of thought (circles), he has to accept normal, traditional patterns of thought.

In the same context, Van Til makes this remarkable statement:

We cannot subject the authoritative pronouncements of scripture about reality to the scrutiny of reason because it is reason itself that learns of its proper function from Scripture.

{Van Til, 125}

Reason "learns" of its proper function from Scripture. Reason, therefore, is represented as already existing and functioning. Now it reports to headquarters and gets orders as to how it is to function.

. . . the transcendental argument . . . though Van Til often infers it he never apparently explicitly defends it. If he did, that would be the end, of course, of his presuppositionalism. He insists on presupposing God without rational compulsion. Then he moves to the world which can be understood, he argues, if approached presuppositionally. But he cannot argue, because that would be proving the presupposition which cannot be proven by autonomous human reason. But the understanding of the world is assumed because the God who explains it is assumed. We cannot get off this theoretical merry-go-round. It cannot move up and down or even spirally, but only in dizzying circles.

(Sproul et al, 322-326)

. . . instead of being a "glorious circle" it [circular reasoning] leads inevitably to anti-intellectualism and ultimate fideism even in the most "rational" presuppositionalists. The Emperor of the Land of Presuppositionalism . . . has no clothes . . . Classical apologetics, with its horror of circularity, is the little child who embarrasses everybody by pointing out the obvious.

(Sproul et al, 338)

We come, then, to what exactly the presuppositional system asserts that everyone (believer and non) presupposes. It should be kept in mind that a transcendental argument is not concerned with what people explicitly say they believe or what they explicitly appeal to as justifications for their beliefs. The transcendental argument will certainly take note of these explicit things, but it will not simply take them for granted. It will, instead, "transcend" them and demonstrate that if those criteria were true, the observed experience that they supposedly justify could not itself exist, because those criteria ultimately reduce to absurdity. This is the major reason that the presuppositional system cannot be reduced to a system of "axioms" (in the sense of my critique of the "Platonism" of the Roman Catholic approach to reality). The presuppositional argument is not one which says "You must openly state that you are beginning with X and that you intend to make all data in the world conform to X because X transcends all the data." The only similarity between the presuppositional method and this "Platonist" method is in the superficial use by both of the word "transcend".

The above analysis by Sproul et al thoroughly contradicts this assessment. One can't begin with circular reasoning and somehow, inexplicably rise to a plane where the irrational suddenly becomes rational, while other systems "reduce to absurdity." Presuppositionalism is already logically absurd by necessary recourse to circular argument; therefore it is in no position to judge the rationality or irrationality of other systems. First let it become a rational, logically coherent system itself before going on to judge other systems.

[passed over extraneous polemic against Catholicism, which I responded to in my earlier paper]

The transcendental with which Christianity is concerned and on the grounds of which it claims all of reality and thinking about reality is found, is, in fact, the Triune God. Not, it must be noted, a generically "theistic God" (say, one who might be posited to in some way or another lie behind all "theistic" religions from Judaism to Islam to Christianity to modern-day quasi-Deism), but the God who is the Three-in-One, the Holy Trinity. This God is not dependent on anything created, but all things that have been created are dependent utterly upon Him. And the creation which He has made is one which, being dependent on His own Tri-Unity, is simultaneously many things and one thing. In the Christian worldview (the infinite) God is a self contained harmony of unity and plurality, and consequently, in the Christian worldview (the finite) created reality is also a harmony of unity and plurality. Van Til puts it this way:

Creation, on Christian principles, must always mean fiat creation.

If the creation doctrine is thus taken seriously, it follows that the various aspects of created reality must sustain such relations to one another as have been ordained between them by the Creator, as superiors, inferiors, or equals. All aspects being equally created, no one aspect of reality may be regarded as more ultimate than another. Thus the created one and many may in this respect be said to be equal to one another; they are equally derived and dependent upon God who sustains them both. The particulars or facts of the universe do and must act in accord with universals or laws. Thus there is order in the created universe. On the other hand, the laws may not and can never reduce the particulars to abstract particulars or reduce their individuality in any manner.[19]

In terms of explaining the created world, then, a presuppositionally Christian approach will not enmesh itself in such things as positing that the "spiritual" dimension of life is "superior" to the "natural" dimension of life--the constant tempation of all "Platonisms", whether Roman Catholic or American Baptist. A presuppositionally Christian view of God and things (ontology) will instead emphasize neither One nor Many over each other, but seek to harmonize them just as they are harmonized in the God who made them. Any system purported to be Christian but which emphasizes either the One or the Many over the other has fundamentally (though often in a way not immediately apparent) compromised the Christian presupposition, the real existence of the God who is not only Three or only One, but actually a Tri-Unity--both Three and One. The Christian ontology (theory of being) is Trinitarian monotheism, not merely monotheism. To defend anything less than this is not to defend Christianity, but to defend something else that is being confused with Christianity. Christianity's ontological foundation is fundamentally different from the foundations of all other systems, and this is why it must be presuppositionally defended. Only by taking note of presuppositions can the antithesis spoken of in Part 1 of this series be properly observed.

This sort of fallacious reasoning is, again, based on a basic confusion of category. Sproul et al show exactly how this is so:

According to Van Til, the intellect is not functioning in its traditional role until the knowledge of the Creator is assumed. But if so, then it is a mystery how we can know the Creator-creature relationship except through the intellect . . . one cannot believe anything without first knowing it by the intellect. Van Til has cut off that bridge to knowledge. How then does he get any knowledge to accept or believe?

. . . Van Til has taken this position, not noticing -- once again -- the difference between priority in the order of being and priority in the order of knowing. . . . Any meaningful statement by Van Til about intellectual priority pertains to the order of being and not to the order of knowing. God is indeed first and is indeed the Creator of the human intellect. If that is what Van Til wants to say, we heartily agree. But given the proposition that God is first in order of being and the human intellect is second, does it follow that in our thinking we are able to move in the same order? It does not at all follow. The exact opposite follows. If we are endowed with intellect, then our intellect has first to function in apprehending the nature of God who created the intellect for that purpose . . .

How do we explain Van Til's apparent blindness to such an obvious matter? It is his overall thinking which controls him here and pulls him out of the rational order . . . one simply cannot know before he knows.

. . . In Van Til's thought, as in . . . every other rational being's thought, the intellect has to precede even his thought of God. This does not detract from God, since it is He who made us this way . . .

(Sproul et al, 228-230)

Alright, here it is at last--Part III of the presuppositionalism series. Hooray! I want to give a brief disclaimer first off. I am doing this series for an "educational" purpose--that is, the presuppositionalism issue frequently comes up in discussions with Catholics and I feel that the basic issues are often skewed in the heat of polemical engagements. So I am not doing this set of posts to start new fights with Catholics (who, however, undoubtedly will not like some of what is contained below).

For our part, I'm sure Tim will understand that, since he has been consistently and persistently critical of Catholic apologetic premises and methods -- real or imagined --, we are eager to return the favor and critique his method and premises (or a reasonable facsimile thereof -- see his next statement below). Whether he chooses to interact with an opposing view (rather than merely critique it over and over, without any fruitful exchange) will be his choice.

Additionally, I want it to be understood that just because I am citing heavily from Van Til in this series of posts does not mean that I myself agree with everything I am citing. I have never been a "purist" in my apologetic methodology, and I am not one now. That is, I am not some slavish Van Til devotee who cannot see any good in anything except the work of "The Master", and nothing I cite below or explain in my own words should be taken to indicate "Tim Enloe also believes all of this." Generally speaking, I agree with the presuppositionalist trajectory of theology-apologetics. Whether I agree with any specific claims or arguments that any specific presuppositionalist (like Van Til or Bahnsen) makes, is another story.

So we still don't know Tim's exact position on this, but that's okay. I am fairly confident that he still has plenty to answer for on behalf of Van Til, regarding what he does agree with, if it is a "general concurrence."

Again, the purpose of this series of posts is educational, not controversial. So with this in mind, here's Part III.

Part I [linked] of this series sketched some general concepts of the presuppositionalist method.

Part II [linked] looked at what is being presupposed (the Trinity) by the system and offered a few brief areas of application. This part will explain the presuppositionalist approach to epistemology, through the lens of the “faith and reason” question.

III. The Basis, Warrant, and Justification for Beliefs and Presuppositions

III. The Question of the Knowledge of Creatures: The Relationship of Faith and Reason

Christians have always been divided in various ways over the question “What is the relationship of faith and reason?” Some authors discern at least four different conceptions of the relationship in the Church Fathers, and throughout the Middle Ages various schemes (particularly Realism and Nominalism, in various varieties) conflicted as well. The issues that the presuppositional method of apologetics highlights are part of this ages-long debate between Christians. Although presuppositionalism (as I are concerned to explain it in these posts) is chiefly a Reformed phenomenon, even within the Reformed world there are disagreements about faith and reason (for instance, presuppositionalism per se vs. “classical apologetics”), and sometimes about the implications of presuppositionalism itself (for instance, the Gordon Clark-Cornelius Van Til debate). In writing of these sorts of conflicts, Van Til himself pointed to a difference between the “Old Princeton” school of Presbyterians (led by B.B. Warfield) and the “Dutch School” led by Abraham Kuyper and Herman Bavinck:

…Warfield says that apologetics as a theological discipline has to establish the presuppositions of systematic theology such as the existence of God, the religious nature of man, and the truth of the historical revelation of God given us in the Scriptures. In contrast to this, Kuyper says that apologetics must seek only to defend that which is given it in systematics. Warfield argues that if we were to follow Kuyper’s method we would first be explicating the Christian system and afterwards we would be asking ourselves whether perchance we have been dealing with facts or with fancies. Kuyper argues that if we allow apologetics to establish the presuppositions of theology [as Warfield urges] we have virtually attributed to the natural man the ability to understand the truth of Christianity and have thus denied the doctrine of total depravity.[20]
Van Til tries to offer a mediating position between these two views by stating that while he agrees with Kuyper that Christian apologetics must take into consideration the difference between regenerate men (who love God’s truth) and unregenerate men (who suppress God’s truth in unrighteousness), he nevertheless himself holds that apologetics and theology are “interdependent”—neither stands alone or apart from each other. This means that one could pursue either a scheme of “positive” apologetics, which first assumes the general truth of Christian theology and then defends it, or a scheme of “negative” apologetics, which first seeks to destroy objections to the general truth of Christian theology before defending the system of Christian theology itself. But while this thus makes room for a “Warfieldian” like treatment of Christian evidences, it denies Warfield’s idea that apologetics proceeds via a method that other Christian disciplines do not and cannot use—namely, it denies the idea that there are “neutral” areas of life which can “independently” establish general truths such as “God exists” and then build specifically Christian affirmations upon these.[21]

Norman Geisler offers some countering arguments to this sort of thinking:

Fideists do not differentiate clearly the difference between the basis of belief in God and the support or warrant for that belief . . . Evidence may be used to support, confirm, or even accompany this belief; but it must never be the basis for believing. The fidesists properly stress the basis for belief, namely, God or his revelation; but they seem to neglect entirely the warrant or support for exercising this belief. In short, evidence bears directly on belief that there is a God but not directly on belief in God. "Belief that" is an intellectual matter and there are rational arguments for it. But "belief in" is an existential concern that has no such objective tests for truth. Fideism is right on the latter but almost completely overlooks the need for criteria or test for the truth that there is a God, or that the Bible is the Word of God, and so on.

. . . Fideists fail to understand the implications of the difference between the unavoidability of and the justifiability of presuppositions. We may grant that presuppositions are unavoidable; men cannot think without epistemological and even ontological assumptins. However, the crucial question is not whether we can avoid using presuppositions but whether we can justify those we use . . . which presupposition should be chosen and with what warrant? . . . Can some beliefs be eliminated as false and others be established as true? If so, by what method or test for truth? Fideists do not face these questions squarely; or if they do, they tend to provide nonfideistic answers, such as to believe otherwise is contrary to one's experience, to reason, to his hope for the future, or it brings undesired results. But to answer this way is to return to rationalism or to move on to experientialism or pragmatism as tests for truth. This is no longer methodological fideism.

(Geisler, 62-63)

And so again we return to the theme of “no neutrality” as being a pivot point for the presuppositionalist system.

I don't know of anyone who would deny this (rightly understood), so I fail to see how it can be a "pivot point" for presuppositionalism, when everyone agrees with it. All Christians have faith in certain beliefs, doctrines, and realities (God's existence, the possibility of revelation, and miracles, the incarnation, the atonement, various Protestant and Catholic distinctives, and so forth). That goes beyond philosophy. But it precludes some imagined "neutrality."

IV. Philosophy and Theology Converge, Yet Rationality and Logic Are Spurned?

The Trinitarian antithesis, and the corresponding fact that there is no neutrality anywhere, results in presuppositionalism holding that theology and philosophy cannot be sharply separated. That is, there is no theology that is not also philosophy, and no philosophy that is not also theology.

I find this to be an absurd notion, but we shall see how Tim attempts to establish its truthfulness. I don't think it can be done. If theology is philosophy, of what school is it? It will do no good to simply call it "trinitarianism," because that tells us nothing more than we already know: viz., that Christians are trinitarians. So what (it's merely more circular reasoning)? That helps us not a whit to understand what "philosophy" true Christian theology is to be equated with. It will not do to continually excoriate Catholic philosophy as supposedly always "Platonist" and yet refuse to subject one's own alternate point of view to a similar analysis, which categorizes it according to certain philosophical schools of thought.

The perceived distinction between “philosophy” and “theology” is “but a matter of terminology”, says Van Til, because both disciplines deal with the same subject matter—e.g., metaphysics, epistemology, ethics, social theory, eschatology, and so forth.[22] Both theology and philosophy are concerned with worldviews. Christian theology is Christian philosophy, and there is a fundamental, ineradicable antithesis between Christian philosophy (theology) and non-Christian philosophy (theology). The actually existing reality of the Trinity implies a complete view of Reality that is Trinitarian, not a partially Trinitarian view informed (usually tacitly) by non-Trinitarian commitments and yet still considered to be Trinitarian.

This doesn't provide us with all that much that will convince anyone of the previous extraordinary claims, but I would say that if "theology is philosophy" and vice versa, and there is no distinction to be made, then why do so many presuppositionalists frown upon logic, proudly use circular reasoning, and even claim that God is somehow apart from logic itself? Sproul and Gerstner analyze this curious, odd inconsistency, citing Christian apologists Ronald Nash, Gordon Clark, and Alvin Plantinga (widely considered the most influential and important Protestant Christian philosopher today):

In evaluating the contemporary religious revolt against logic, Ronald Nash discusses a common strand of thought withon both neo-orthodox theology and evangelical theology, citing examples in Emil Brunner, Karl Barth, T.F. Torrance, Donald Bloesch, Herman Dooyeweerd, Cornelius Van Til, and al Wolters: that human logic cannot be extended to a transcendent God. Human logic is restricted to this side of the ontological boundary between God and the created order {Nash, 95}. Nash cites Alvin Plantinga's reaction to this kind of theological agnosticism:
This kind of thinking about God begins in a pious and commendable concern for God's greatness and majesty and augustness; but it ends in agnosticism and in incoherence. For, if none of our concepts apply to God (or if none of our inferences extend to God), then there is nothing we can know or truly believe of him -- not even what is affirmed in the creeds or revealed in the Scriptures. And if there is nothing we can know or truly believe of him, then, of course, we cannot know or truly believe that none of our concepts apply to him. The view . . . is fatally ensnarled in self-referential absurdity.

{Nash, 99}

. . . how could this God reveal anything about Himself to us if He is utterly dissimilar from us and His categories of thought are as wholly other as His being? If God is totally ontologically dissimilar, then neither He nor we have any reference point for meaningful or intelligible discourse. Communication between totally dissimilar beings is manifestly impossible.

. . . in certain Christian circles there is a persistent allergy to rationality . . . The fear is that reason makes God subject to a law which is greater than Himself, making God answerable to Aristotle, rather than Aristotle to God. But Aristotle did not invent logic or reason. Aristotle was no more responsible for the invention or creation of logic than Columbus was for inventing or creating America.

. . . The Christian faith affirms logic not as a law above God but as an aspect built into Creation which flows from His own character. According to Gordon Clark, "The law of contradiction is not to be taken as an axiom prior to or independent of God. The law is God thinking."

{Nash [2], 67}

(Sproul et al, 75-76)

Accordingly, presuppositionalism’s answer to the ages-old faith and reason question is that a Christian’s reason must be informed and regulated by the Christian faith, and not by any presumed “natural” (neutral) reason purportedly standing outside the Christian faith and to which the Christian faith itself may be held accountable.

Of course. Again, no Christian who thinks at all about these important issues would disagree. I can't even imagine it, and haven't seen such a thing in my 23 years of apologetic study. So how is this a notable feature of one school of thought and some important, unique contribution, when all Christian apologists believe this?

V. Distortions of St. Thomas Aquinas' True Positions on Natural Theology and Universals

It is a matter of formally holding a worldview and being consistent to its own terms, as opposed to formally holding a worldview but tacitly mixing it with principles alien to itself. Often, Van Til contrasts the presuppositionalist view of faith and reason which he defends with the Roman Catholic view of “natural reason”, which can do all sorts of things apart from Christian faith and to which the Christian faith is in a sense “added” to achieve a complete system of truth.[23] By contrast, he says, the presuppositionalist view holds that

…the assertions of philosophy and science can be self-consciously true only if they are made in the light of the Scripture. Scripture gives definite information of a most fundamental character about all the facts and principles with which philosophy and science deal. For philosophy or science to reject or even to ignore this information is to falsify the picture it gives of the field with which it deals.

This does not imply that philosophy and science must be exclusively dependent upon theology for their basic principles. It implies only that philosophy and science must, as well as theology, turn to Scripture for whatever light it has to offer on general principles and particular facts…the Christian philosopher and the Christian scientist will be first of all directly dependent upon Scripture itself. [24]

This is (as we have come to expect by now) a gross caricature of the Catholic position, and outright misinformation. St. Thomas Aquinas is usually the "whipping boy" of this particular mindset of a sub-group of Reformed Protestantism. But is the above an accurate description of Aquinas' position on "natural reason" or "natural theology"? Hardly. The influential Reformed apologists Sproul and Gerstner defend the great Catholic philosopher and theologian from such calumny, citing his own words:
For the Christian, natural theology does not mean that humans, in their natural state, have the intrinsic ability to rise to a knowledge of God by the sheer force of intellect unaided by divine revelation. Such a view is repudiated by Protestants and Roman Catholics alike, including St. Thomas Aquinas:
It seems that a man cannot know any truth without grace . . . Now however pure it be, bodily sense cannot see any visible thing without the light of the sun. Hence however perfect be the human mind, it cannot be reasoning know any truth without the light of God, which belongs to the aid of grace . . . The natural light bestowed on the mind is God's light, by which we are enlightened to know such things as belong to natural knowledge.

{Fairweather, 11:137-139}

. . . To be sure, Aquinas does mention the biblical teaching of natural theology in passing, but he does not build his case for natural theology by a simple appeal to the New Testament:
The existence of God and similar things which can be known by natural reason as Romans, Chapter I affirms, are not articles of faith, but preambles to the articles. Faith presupposes natural knowledge as grace presupposes nature.

{Fairweather, 53}

Aquinas and other advocates of natural theology were aware of what the Bible says about the matter. Special revelation confirms natural theology. This fact is important to the debate over natural theology for two reasons. The first is that the Bible makes a claim for the validity of natural theology which claim must be tested and seen to be valid or invalid. The second is that once the Bible is established as special revelation its teaching on the question of natural theology is normative. This is crucial to those scholars who affirm special revelation and general revelation but deny natural theology. For if the special revelation which they affirm teaches natural theology, then their position is exposed as inconsistent.

. . . if the Bible is special revelation and if it teaches natural theology then, of course, by irresistible logic we must conclude that natural theology is valid. The authors of this volume do believe the Bible is special revelation and that it does teach natural theology.

(Sproul et al, 25, 36-37)

Christian philosopher Ronald W. Ruegsegger examined the similar distortions of St. Thomas' thought by another Reformed apologist, Francis Schaeffer (a great influence on my own Christian development, and often a profound and thought-provoking writer, but no philosopher by any stretch):
Schaeffer's account of Aquinas' influence on subsequent thought is governed by two assumptions. The first is the claim that "Aquinas brought [the] Aristotelian emphasis on individual things -- the particulars -- into the philosophy of the late Middle Ages, and this set the stage for the humanistic elements of the Renaissance and the basic problems they created."

{Schaeffer, 52}

The second assumption is the claim that Aquinas held that "the will of man is fallen, but the intellect was not." {Schaeffer [2], 11}. According to Schaeffer, this is equivalent to making the intellect autonomous, or independent, which in turn produced three bad results. First, Aquinas thought that one could develop natural theology independently from the Bible. Second, Aquinas made philosophy independent from Scripture. Third, Aquinas made it possible for the arts to develop apart from Scripture.

. . . According to Aquinas, although the senses naturally apprehend particulars, the object of cognition is the concept, or universal . . . Aquinas refers to these universals post rem, that is, universals as abstracted from objects.

In addition to universals post rem, Aquinas holds that there are universals ante rem (prior to things) and universals in re (in things). As for universals ante rem, Aquinas maintains that universals are prior to things on the ground that when Godcreated the world, his universals ideas served as the exemplary patterns as he created the particulars that make up our world. Finally, universals in re are universals in particular objects serving as their essences.

This sketch of Aquinas' epistemology necessarily has left out many details, but it shows that universals play an important role in Thomistic philosophy . . . It is true that in following Aristotle, Aquinas placed more importance on particulars than Plato did. However, Plato had a difficult time finding any role for particulars in his system. By contrast, Aquinas' incorporation of particulars as well as universals seems to be a step in the right direction, rather than a mistake as Schaeffer sees it.

. . . the following passage from Aquinas' Summa Theologiae shows that Aquinas does not hold that natural theology is totally independent from Scripture:

Even as regards those truths about God which human reason can investigate, it was necessary that man be taught by a divine revelation. For the truth about God, such as reason can know it, would only be known by a few, and that after a long time, and with the admixture of many errors; whereas man's whole salvation, which is in God, depends upon the knowledge of this truth. Therefore, in order that the salvation of men might be brought about more fitly and more surely, it was necessary that they be taught divine truths by divine revelation. It was therefore necessary that, besides the philosophical disciplines investigated by reason, there should be a sacred doctrine by way of revelation.

{Aquinas, I, q. 1, a. 1}

. . . Bonaventure had excluded Aristotle from the ranks of metaphysicians on the ground that he lacked the light of faith. Aquinas replied that unless we wish to condemn reason as such we must say that it is at least theoretically possible for a secular philosopher to develop a satisfactory metaphysics. Nevertheless, Aquinas acknowledged that it is not practically possible for a secular philosopher to do so, because on the one hand God is the first principle of true philosophy, and on the other hand the intellect is weak.

(Ruegsegger, 112-115)

But it may be asked (and often is, especially by Roman Catholics) why all Christian thinking about reality must be “directly dependent upon Scripture itself”. The presuppositionalist view of Scripture proper will be considered in the next segment of this series, but for now it is appropriate to explain the general principle that lies behind making all Christian thinking about reality “directly dependent upon Scripture itself”.

Here it will be necessary to digress for a few paragraphs into some very common misportrayals of presuppositionalism in which even many of its defenders engage.

We Catholics know the feeling very well ("common misportrayals") . . . ,

[passed over material on Scripture and its interpretation]

Now "objectivity", which is merely a synonym for neutrality and autonomy, is the exact thing that is forbidden by the presuppositionalist understanding of God, and is in fact, the negation of the Christian antithesis spoken of in Part I of this series. Under the Triune God of the Christian religion, there is no neutrality—not ontological, not epistemological, not hermeneutical, not individual, not societal, not any kind at all. In actual point of fact neutrality does not exist, and thus it is not possible for there to be an "objective" (neutral; autonomous) exegesis of Scripture and a condition in which given men actually have become entirely consistent to Scripture and Scripture alone.

Obviously this precludes the idea that Christians can indeed know for certain what doctrines are taught in Scripture. Catholics believe that this is possible -- with the guidance of the Church: herself led and protected by the Holy Spirit. But Protestants are "condemned" to a never-ending search for theological truth(s), and the impossibility of the certainty of faith.

Van Til especially often speaks of the need for apologetical “self-consciousness”, or consistency with the principles of the religion being defended, and the fact that this is needed in Christendom implies that it has not been achieved. Indeed, the whole reason that many presuppositionalists are so harsh on the traditional theistic proofs (“classical apologetics”) is that the former believe the latter are based upon Christian concessions to an alien worldview—a worldview which places autonomy at its conceptual center and thus constantly generates systems of theology-philosophy that exhibit fundamental inconsistencies with the formally-stated Christian premises.

That is sheer caricature of the "classical" or "evidential" position (which I have always espoused). It is strange for a system which begins in proudly-admitted circular reasoning to judge competing systems as suffering from "fundamental inconsistencies." But this flows from misunderstanding of the scholastic synthesis of faith and reason, and the nature and scope of natural theology (also the biblical rationale for same).

[ . . . ]

VI. The Place of Scripture in Presuppositionalism and Catholicism

Why, then, to return to the question posed above, is the system of Christian theology-philosophy supposed to be “directly dependent upon Scripture itself”? It is not an exaggeration to say that it is on the doctrine of Scripture that presuppositionalism comes most into conflict with other systems of Christian apologetics. This is partly because in Reformed hands presuppositionalism usually takes on a distinctly adversarial cast against Roman Catholicism's somewhat confused presentations of the relationship of Scripture and Tradition (i.e., Roman Catholicism has not yet settled within itself whether a material sufficiency or a partim-partim view of Scripture and Tradition is correct).[26]

It's a false dilemma. Catholics accept the material sufficiency of Scripture (all Christian doctrines can be found in it, either explicitly, implicitly, or deduced from other clear indications). We also accept Sacred Tradition as a source of Christian truth, but not in the sense that it is somehow distinct from Scripture, as if it contains something different (in terms of overall theology and viewpoint) from the Bible. The much-misunderstood and distorted Catholic position on the relationship of Bible and Tradition is best described in the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation (Dei Verbum), from Vatican II:

Sacred Tradition and sacred Scripture, then, are bound closely together, and communicate one with the other. For both of them, flowing out from the same divine well-spring, come together in some fashion to form one thing, and move towards the same goal. Sacred Scripture is the speech of God as it is put down in writing under the breath of the Holy Spirit. And Tradition transmits in its entirety the Word of God which has been entrusted to the apostles by Christ the Lord and the Holy Spirit . . . hence, both scripture and Tradition must be accepted and honored with equal feelings of devotion and reverence.

(II, 9)

Of course, this view on authority (far from being some post-Tridentine innovations) is precisely that of the Church Fathers, according to three prominent Protestant Church historians:
As regards the pre-Augustinian Church, there is in our time a striking convergence of scholarly opinion that Scripture and Tradition are for the early Church in no sense mutually exclusive: kerygma, Scripture and Tradition coincide entirely. The Church preaches the kerygma which is to be found in toto in written form in the canonical books.

The Tradition is not understood as an addition to the kerygma contained in Scripture but as the handing down of that same kerygma in living form: in other words everything is to be found in Scripture and at the same time everything is in the living Tradition.

It is in the living, visible Body of Christ, inspired and vivified by the operation of the Holy Spirit, that Scripture and Tradition coinhere . . . Both Scripture and Tradition issue from the same source: the Word of God, Revelation . . . Only within the Church can this kerygma be handed down undefiled . . .

(Oberman, 366-367)

Clearly it is an anachronism to superimpose upon the discussions of the second and third centuries categories derived from the controversies over the relation of Scripture and tradition in the 16th century, for 'in the ante-Nicene Church . . . there was no notion of sola Scriptura, but neither was there a doctrine of traditio sola.'. . . (1)

The apostolic tradition was a public tradition . . . So palpable was this apostolic tradition that even if the apostles had not left behind the Scriptures to serve as normative evidence of their doctrine, the church would still be in a position to follow 'the structure of the tradition which they handed on to those to whom they committed the churches (2).' This was, in fact, what the church was doing in those barbarian territories where believers did not have access to the written deposit, but still carefully guarded the ancient tradition of the apostles, summarized in the creed . . .

The term 'rule of faith' or 'rule of truth' . . . seems sometimes to have meant the 'tradition,' sometimes the Scriptures, sometimes the message of the gospel . . .

In the . . . Reformation . . . the supporters of the sole authority of Scripture . . . overlooked the function of tradition in securing what they regarded as the correct exegesis of Scripture against heretical alternatives.

(Pelikan, 115-117, 119; citations: 1. In Cushman, Robert E. & Egil Grislis, eds., The Heritage of Christian Thought: Essays in Honor of Robert Lowry Calhoun, New York: 1965, quote from Albert Outler, "The Sense of Tradition in the Ante-Nicene Church," p. 29. 2. St. Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 3:4:1)

It should be unnecessary to accumulate further evidence. Throughout the whole period Scripture and tradition ranked as complementary authorities, media different in form but coincident in content. To inquire which counted as superior or more ultimate is to pose the question in misleading terms. If Scripture was abundantly sufficient in principle, tradition was recognized as the surest clue to its interpretation, for in tradition the Church retained, as a legacy from the apostles which was embedded in all the organs of her institutional life, an unerring grasp of the real purport and meaning of the revelation to which Scripture and tradition alike bore witness.

(Kelly, 47-48)

VII. Van Til's Anti-Catholicism and Profound Misunderstanding of Catholic Theology

This pervasive Protestant tendency towards false dichotomies -- wrongly pitting this against that, when it is by no means necessary to do so -- is found throughout Van Til's silly, hackneyed, inaccurate (frankly, ignorant) depictions of supposed Catholic views. For example:

Roman Catholicism takes a position half way between that of Christianity and that of paganism . . .

[with regard to the philosophy of knowledge]

All in all then it is clear that Romanism cannot ask its adherents to submit their moral consciousness to scripture in any thorough way. And accordingly Rome cannot challenge the non-Christian position in any thorough way.

(Van Til [2], 56-57)

Romanism should be regarded as a deformation of Christianity, in fact as its lowest deformation. And this deformation expresses itself not merely at some but at every point of doctrine.

. . . the natural man does not need the light of Christianity to enable him to understand the world and himself aright. He does not need the revelation of Scripture or the illumination of the Holy Spirit . . .

[directly contrary to St. Thomas, as cited above: "however perfect be the human mind, it cannot be reasoning know any truth without the light of God, which belongs to the aid of grace . . . The natural light bestowed on the mind is God's light, by which we are enlightened to know such things as belong to natural knowledge."]

. . . the self-contained ontological trinity of Scripture. The Roman Catholic apologete does not want to prove the existence of this sort of God. He wants to prove the existence of such a God as will leave intact the autonomy of man to at least some extent. Rome's theology does not want a God whose counsel controls whatsoever comes to pass.

. . . There is no place anywhere in the whole of Roman Catholic thought for the idea that any human being should be wholly subject to God. On the contrary, the position of Rome requires the rejection of the counsel of God as all-determinative.

(Van Til [2], 71, 73, 77-78, 138)

Now Catholic theology denies God's Providence, and Catholic apologists care little about defense of the Holy Trinity?!!! The former assertion (as well as the latter) would be great news indeed to St. Thomas Aquinas (the "bad boy" of Catholic theology, according to Van Til), who wrote:
Now, because God not only gave existence to things at their origin but causes their existence by preserving it as long as they exist . . . so he not only gave them active forces when he first created them but constantly causes those forces in them. Hence with the withdrawal of the divine influence, all action would cease. So every action of anything is traced to him as its cause.

Every movement of the will by which some powers are put into action also comes from God as the primary object of tendency as well as the first willer. Every action should therefore be attributed to God as its primary and principal agent.

(cited in Clark, 333-334, from Summa of Christian Teaching, III, 67)

But Van Til, undaunted, and apparently unfamiliar with Aquinas' thought, quixotically proceeds, exclaiming:
According to Roman Catholic theology . . . God has to await man's decisions on many points. Thus God does not really control whatsoever comes to pass. And this means that man's ultimate environment is only partly under God's direction . . . It is no wonder, then that, holding this doctrine of the ultimacy of the mind and will of man in its theology, Romish theology should recognize the legitimacy of the idea of autonomy in the field of philosophy.

(Van Til [2], 136-137)

On a Romanist basis . . . the Christ could not and did not accomplish one finished act of world salvation.

(Van Til [2], 155)

St. Thomas must be turning over in his grave again at such a ridiculous caricature of Catholic soteriology, for he wrote:
Christ by suffering out of love and obedience gave to God more than was required to compensate for the offense of the whole human race . . . Christ's passion was not merely a sufficient but a superabundant atonement for the sins of the human race: according to "He is the propitiation for our sins; and not for ours only, but also for those of the whole world" (1 Jn. 2:2).

(in Clark, 469, from Summa Theologiae, III, q. 48, a. 2, c)

. . . Christ's passion achieves man's salvation effectively.

(in Clark, 470, from Summa Theologiae, III, q. 48, a. 6, c)

It is in Reformed theology where the true conflict with Scripture and the all-sufficient work of Christ is seen, since it holds to Limited Atonement, or the notion that Jesus Christ died only for the elect, and not for all mankind -- as Catholics, Orthodox, and Arminian Protestants hold. Further examination of Van Til's manifold errors and appalling misrepresentations of Catholic teaching would be too depressing and embarrassing . . .

Also, conflicts with other apologetic systems are partly because presuppositionalism extends the central theme of the self-sufficiency of God (as outlined in Part II regarding the ontologically self-contained Trinity) to the issue of the revelation which that self-sufficient God gives to His creatures. Thus Van Til, as a prelude to explaining how presuppositionalism's doctrine of Scripture differs from the Roman Catholic one, writes:

The Protestant doctrine of God requires that it be made foundational to everything else as a principle of explanation. If God is self-sufficient, he alone is self-explanatory. And if he alone is self-explanatory, then he must be the final reference point in all human predication. He is then like the sun from which all lights on earth derive their power of illumination. You do not use a candle in order to search for the sun. The idea of a candle is derived from the sun. So the very idea of any fact in the universe is that it is derivative. God has created it. It cannot have come into existence by itself, or by chance. God himself is the source of all possibility, and, therefore, of all space-time factuality.[27]
This is relevant to the Protestant-Roman Catholic debate, Van Til says, because the Roman Catholic method of apologetics "is a compromise between the Christian and the non-Christian view on the matter of the final reference point of human experience."[28] This is too huge a point to get into in this post, so it will have to suffice to say that Van Til's point here has to do with an issue I have often highlighted on this blog, namely, the philosophical Realism with which Roman Catholicism is always tempted. Because of the nature of Realism, Realists have always been tempted toward the metaphysical reductionism of plurality to unity, and also toward the metaphysical independence of the objects of human thought.

This is another false dichotomy, and poor comprehension of the Catholic view. Above, we saw how St. Thomas Aquinas did not have to deny either side of the equation; he stressed both universals and particulars (contrary to the Schaefferian and Van Tillian distortions and caricatures of his thought). Catholics don't create all these dichotomies; it is Protestantism which does that.

Even when they are committed Christians, formally adhering to all Christian doctrines, these Realist temptations remain buried right at the heart of their ontology and epistemology, and thus issue forth in what to the presuppositionalist viewpoint is an "inconsistency" between their Christian commitments and the manner in which they defend those commitments.[29] Or, to remind the reader of a term already introduced in Part 1, the Realist theory of being and knowledge is one that is premised (however inconsistently) upon the autonomy, the "self-law", of the creation.

That hasn't been demonstrated; only asserted. Presuppositionalism, on the other hand, itself states that it begins with circular reasoning.

I will reserve further comment on the apologetic implications of presuppositionalism for a later part of this series. For now it is important only to understand that the presuppositionalist understanding of the self-sufficiency of God, the Trinity,

Who denies that the Triune God is self-sufficient, for heaven's sake?! Thus, presuppositionalism's "real" distinctives" are circular, and its additional claimed distinctive glories are clearly held by other Christian belief-systems.

issues forth in a doctrine of Scripture that is often defined as the "self-sufficiency" of Scripture. Or, as Van Til puts it, "...only those who hold to the doctrine of God as self-sufficient will naturally also hold to the doctrine of Scripture as self-interpretative."[30]

Tim skips right over commenting on or defending this amazing assertion, which is far from true at all, let alone self-evidently true. First of all, what intrinsic connection exists between the ontological self-sufficiency of God (which, again, all Christians readily accept) and the authority question of the place of Scripture in Christianity, as related to Church and Tradition? None, that I can see. Secondly, how is it evident that self-interpretation of Scripture is part and parcel of "self-sufficiency"? One can believe that Scripture is self-sufficient for doctrine (Catholics accept its material sufficiency) yet not believe that it can either interpret itself or be isolated from an authoritative, binding Church and tradition. Van Til has to demonstrate why all these axiomatic assertions should be accapted. Otherwise, they are no better than the axioms of Mormons or Jehovah's Witnesses.

This does not mean that Scripture is the only location of revelatory authority. Such a view is denied by Scripture itself, as in Romans 1 where it is declared that God has revealed himself to all men in the things which have been made. For the presuppositionalist, there is revelation outside of the Bible—it is called "natural revelation". The Bible, on the other hand, is "special revelation". It is important at this point to realize that natural revelation is not the same thing as natural theology. This is one distinguishing feature of presuppositionalism as over against non-presuppositionalisms. Natural revelation is revelation that God has given in and through nature. Natural theology, on the other hand, is a potentially complete set of theological propositions purportedly deduced from natural revelation and oftentimes thought to be the key to understanding it. Presuppositionalism holds that there is natural revelation, but denies that there is a genuinely Christian natural theology that is not directly engaged with Scripture in a mutual process of interpretation. Natural and special revelation are seen as complementing each other:

God's revelation in nature, together with God's revelation in Scripture, form God's one grand scheme of covenant revelation of himself to man. The two forms of revelation must therefore be seen as presupposing and supplementing one another....Revelation in nature and revelation in Scripture are mutually meaningless without one another and mutually fruitful when taken together.[31]
Again, we observed above that Aquinas would not disagree with this at all. But of course Van Til mistakenly thinks that he does.

VIII. The Inevitable Internal Difficulties and Incoherence of Presuppositionalism

All of this means that contrary to commonplace misunderstandings of presuppositionalism (by both opponents and defenders), the system is not opposed to the use of Christian evidences per se, but only to the use of evidences which assumes the evidences are autonomous indicators that Christianity is true—that is, indicators that as judged by a standard outside of the self-sufficient God and His equally self-sufficient, interpretive Word, Christianity is true.

In other words, it is only opposed to non-circular evidences . . . but we reply that what good is a logically circular "evidence" in the first place -- especially for a non-believer whom one is trying to persuade and evangelize? I question whether it is either an "evidence" or apologetics at all, in many cases, because of its very circularity. It is merely an assertion, not a defense. The former is clearly not the latter. Norman Geisler examines the results of one aspect of this circularity:

Fideism faces a final dilemma. Either it makes a truth-claim or it does not. If fideism is not making a claim to be true, then it is not a position in philosophy, but simply a study in psychology . . . On the other hand, if fideism makes a truth-claim then it must have a truth-test. For not all truth-claims can be true, at least not contrary ones . . . If he does not, then as an unjustified belief it has no rightful claim to knowledge . . . if the fideist offers a justification for his belief -- as indeed the whole argument for fideism would seem to be -- then he is no longer a fideist, since he has an argument or justification for holding his belief in fideism. In short, either fideism is not a rightful claimant to truth or else it is self-defeating. But in neither case can it be established to be true.

(Geisler, 63-64)

Sproul and Gerstner concur:
If the presuppositionalist offers any reason, he ceases to be a presuppositionalist. Bahnsen is too consistent to do that. But a faith in Scripture, or in anything for that matter, that does not rest on reasons, is fideism. Thus, if Van Til or Bahnsen deny that their faith in Scripture is fideistic they will be denying their presuppositionalism. If they admit it, they admit fideism. In short, presuppositionalism is a form of fideism, and this charge cannot be denied without denying presuppositionalism.

(Sproul et al, 309)

The Catholic Encyclopedia (1909) puts it yet another way:
Fideism owes its origin to distrust in human reason, and the logical sequence of such an attitude is scepticism . . . It is also a fideistic attitude which is the occasion of agnosticism, of positivism, of pragmatism and other modern forms of anti-intellectualism. As against these views, it must be noted that authority, even the authority of God, cannot be the supreme criterion of certitude, and an act of faith cannot be the primary form of human knowledge. This authority, indeed, in order to be a motive of assent, must be previously acknowledged as being certainly valid; before we believe in a proposition as revealed by God, we must first know with certitude that God exists, that He reveals such and such a proposition, and that His teaching is worthy of assent, all of which questions can and must be ultimately decided only by an act of intellectual assent based on objective evidence. Thus, fideism not only denies intellectual knowledge, but logically ruins faith itself.

. . . Revelation, indeed, is the supreme motive of faith in supernatural truths, yet, the existence of this motive and its validity has to be established by reason. No one will deny the importance of authority and tradition or common consent in human society for our knowledge of natural truths. It is quite evident that to despise the teaching of the sages, the scientific discoveries of the past, and the voice of common consent would be to condemn ourselves to a perpetual infancy in knowledge, to render impossible any progress in science, to ignore the social character of man, and to make human life intolerable: but, on the other hand, it is an error to make these elements the supreme criteria of truth, since they are only particular rules of certitude, the validity of which is grounded upon a more fundamental rule. It is indeed true that moral certitude differs from mathematical, but the difference lies not in the firmness or validity of the certainty afforded, but in the process employed and the dispositions required by the nature of the truths with which they respectively deal. The Catholic doctrine on this question is in accord with history and philosophy. Rejecting both rationalism and fideism, it teaches that human reason is capable (physical ability) of knowing the moral and religious truths of the natural order; that it can prove with certainty the existence of God, the immortality of the soul, and can acknowledge most certainly the teaching of God; that, however, in the present conditions of life, it needs (of moral necessity) the help of revelation to acquire a sufficient knowledge of all the natural truths necessary to direct human life according to the precepts of natural religion

("Fideism," Vol. VI, 68-69)

IX. Does Holy Scripture Teach Natural Theology in Romans 1?

Because they believe that the self-sufficient God has given men an equally self-sufficient verbal revelation to provide a guide to interpreting the creation, presuppositionalists are naturally skeptical of the claims of natural theology (which include the traditional theistic proofs). These claims are, in fact, nearly always portrayed as being independent of Scripture and accessible to and understandable by men whether or not they acknowledge God. Reason, being a separate domain from Faith, is able to come to so many correct conclusions about God and His will that it only remains for Faith to “fill in the gaps”, so to speak, to add additional information that helps to carry an otherwise quite salutary system of beliefs the final few steps to open acceptance of Christianity itself. Indeed, Van Til agrees that although Roman Catholics separate Faith and Reason they do not conceive of Reason as standing in antithesis to Faith. Natural reason is “wounded” by sin, but can still come to many correct conclusions about God apart from reliance on revelation, which as a function of grace “heals” nature so that it can function as it was meant to function. The conclusions of Reason do not “belong in the order of faith”, but stand autonomous from Faith and may be subjected to the correction of Faith. Which means, obviously, that Faith is also autonomous.[32]

This is all a jaded, cynical description of classical, traditional apologetics and natural theology. The time has come to cut to the quick and determine whether Scripture teaches natural theology or not. I agree with Sproul and Gerstner that it certainly does, and that Romans 1 is the clearest expression of this. They write:

Verse 19 makes it clear that it is truth or knowledge about God which is being repressed or held down. "For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them" (Rom. 1:19 RSV).

Here the apostle asserts that knowledge of God is not shrouded in obscurity, detectable only by an eliete gnostic group or by a skilled master of esoteric mysteries. That which can be known about God is plain. . . . not hidden or concealed, but manifest, being clear and transparent for anyone to see . . . God Himself shows this revelation to man. "Ever since the creation of the world his invisible nature, namely, his eternal power and deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse" (Rom. 1:20 RSV). Here is the text of texts to establish the biblical basis for general revelation and natural theology.

. . . It is important to note that Paul does not deny the ability of natural man to reason or even to reason correctly if free of prejudice. The problem is not in the capacity for thought per se, but in the thought process that begins and is maintained by prejudice to the facts. The intellectual problem is produced by the moral problem, not the moral problem by an intellectual one.

Professing to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of birds and four-footed animals and crawling creatures.

(Rom. 1:22-23 NASB)

This severe indictment by the apostle could easily be misconstrued as an assault upon the intelligence of natural man. A close look at this passage, however, will indicate that the passage attacks not intellectual ability but morality.

. . . We conclude that the apostle Paul teaches clearly and unambiguously that humans possess a natural knowledge of God which rests upon the foundation of general revelation . . . In rejecting certain forms of natural theology, we must not discard natural theology altogether if we want to maintain a position which is consistent with the New Testament . . . If people do in fact have a knowledge of God from nature, then a natural theology is possible . . .

. . . If the apostle Paul is correct, then Kant was in error and the Christian apologist must work to establish once again a sound natural theology.

(Sproul et al, 43, 52-53, 62-63)

As noted earlier, presuppositionalism does not accept a sharp distinction between theology and philosophy (or between Faith and Reason), but posits them working together as aspects of the self-sufficient God’s self-sufficient revelatory work. Regarding this point, Van Til insightfully observed that right at the beginning of man's experience in the world, the world which was itself revelation from God was interpreted for man by God via direct, authoritative, verbal revelation. Man was not placed in the creation and left to his own devices, his own natural powers, to figure it all out, but was given direct verbal instruction from God which in essence “pre-interpreted” the world for him, a prioristically (as it were) ruling out certain interpretations before man even began to engage in his own creaturely work of interpreting.[33] This is why for presuppositionalism, although natural revelation and special revelation are to work together, the primacy always falls on the latter (Scripture). The creation is revelation in its own right (and thus is not to be ignored in the name of “Scripture alone”), but it is not revelation which man is left to his own autonomous devices to interpret. The self-sufficient God has in Scripture already supplied the self-interpreting interpretation of the creation.

Which includes natural theology in Romans 1 . . .

Notice that “self-interpretation” thus literally means that God infallibly interprets His own work—

X. "Self-Interpretation" and Miscellany

How does he do that? By providing infallible ongoing revelation on a continual basis, Mormon style? I fail to comprehend what this means, apart from some human agency.

that is, “self-interpretation” does not mean that man possesses “neutral” methods of exegeting God’s revelation and so can come to “objective” readings of Scripture. Scriptural “perspicuity” (clearness) for the presuppositionalist thus has nothing to do with methods of hermeneutics that pretend to stand aloof from all created contingencies (historical, cultural, fallible uses of reason, etc.). The creature does not—and cannot ever!—possess a “God’s-eye view” of truth, but always requires a return to, a complex interaction with, the self-sufficient verbal interpretation of the creation given by God Himself.

Which must be interpreted within a framework of orthodoxy and apostolic succession: within the Church . . . The Catholic Church offers the only non-arbitrary, historically- and biblically-defensible ecclesiology. God can guide His Church and protect it from error (infallibility). That Church can then guide mankind to true doctrine and a proper overall hermeneutic of Scripture. This may not be easy for folks to accept as a faith proposition, but at least it is not circular, and has much biblical warrant.

Furthermore, the contingency of man’s interpretive abilities implies not just their fallibility, but also their inability to function properly when oriented against God, their very creator. As Van Til put it, the intellectual is itself always also the ethical,[34] for God’s authority was stated at the very beginning of man’s created experience and man was expected to obey it. After the Fall, sin affects the mind as well as all other parts of man,[35] and so men “suppress the truth in unrighteousness (Rom. 1:18) and cannot understand the things of God because they are spiritually discerned (1 Cor. 1:14). This suppression of God’s self-sufficient, self-interpretive truth results in philosophies (theologies!) which implicitly operate on the “self-law” principle—even when they formally state that they are dependent upon God. For any interpretation which is not in harmony with God’s interpretation is one which is seeking to be its own law, to set its own standards, to be its own measure of truth.

What is God's interpretation? I'm sure everyone wants to know that.

Autonomy is, in fact, the charge that Van Til consistently lays to the charge of Roman Catholicism’s view of faith and reason, which because it separates Faith and Reason

One cannot escape doing that, to some degree . . .

and asserts that Reason has its own domain quite independent of Faith,

I don't see why this has to be the case at all. It wasn't for Aquinas, and he supposedly represents the quintessential example of this so-called error within Catholicism. I have demonstrated that his thought has been caricatured and distorted, almost beyond recognition.

is necessarily always at last drawn into the non-Trinitarian trap of created authority that is subservient to revealed authority only verbally. The presumed autonomy of Reason that is advocated by Roman Catholicism results, according to Van Til, in the paradox that “the Roman Catholic doctrines of faith are in every instance adjusted to the idea of human autonomy”[36].

Quite the contrary; Catholicism has reason and faith in a proper balance, and does not deny the constant necessity of the faith aspect in the slightest. It is presuppositionalism that has demoted reason to a place where I believe God never intended it to be.

Ontologically this results in equating the Bible’s “He who is” with Aristotle’s “it that is not”, thus confusing the God of Scripture with the God of the unbelieving philosophers.[37]

Sheer nonsense . . . Nothing presented here proves that at all. It is simply another bald assertion.

Epistemologically it results in the separation of Faith and Reason with the additional postulate that Reason (natural revelation) can never override some purported definition of Faith (special revelation), because the two operate according to different methods and in different spheres of competence. Ecclesiologically it results in papal infallibility—the ultimate instantation by Christians of the principle of human autonomy.[38]

How is it "human autonomy" to believe that one person is given a special charism by God to guide and head the Church? If one wishes to deny all ecclesiastical or pastoral offices by the same reasoning, that would be consistent, but to deny and caricature the papacy in particular on these grounds, is curious and an insubstantial piece of reasoning. It seems more like mere prejudice or at least religious hostility. Catholics can give many biblical evidences for the papacy -- and that is where the argument over its propriety and utility and very existence properly should take place.

The above considerations set the stage for explaining what the presuppositionalist view of Scripture actually means and entails. This will be the subject of the next post in this series.

And that is of far less interest to me, so I shall leave it at this.

Notes

[29] Thus, Realists attempting to defend the Trinity almost inevitably have trouble actually defending the Trinity rather than a more generic, and quite unitarian, "theistic God".

. . . [37] . . . This ties into what I have said above and elsewhere concerning the temptation of theological-philosophical Realism to tacitly compromise Trinitarian metaphysics by conflating the unitarian god of unbelieving philosophy with the Trinity.

Really (no pun intended)? That's news to me. I would like to see an example of this supposed "almost inevitable" inability.

XI. Conclusion: "The Starting Point" of Christian Philosophy and Apologetics

I shall again cite the wonderful analyses of Sproul and Gerstner, in conclusion:

The issue of starting point is crucial to the debate. The presuppositionalist maintains that you cannot get to God by starting with the self . . . , and the traditionalist argues that the self is the only possible starting place.

. . . The inevitability of beginning with the human self is admitted occasionally even by presuppositionalists. For example, Van Til acknowledges that

all agree that the immediate starting point must be that of our everyday experience and the "facts" that are most close at hand. But the exact charge we are making against so many Idealists as well as Pragmatists is that they are taking for granted certain temporal "facts" not only as temporary but as an ultimate starting point.

{Van Til [4], 120}

This is a very significant point not often made by Van Til. As a matter of fact, it is never made consistently as a part of his system. If it were, much of his criticism would collapse.

. . . We contend that the "'facts' . . . most close at hand" are merely a starting point just because they are the only place at which anyone can start. If we do start at that point, we learn from the evidence that surrounds us that there is a God who alone can explain the ultimate meaning of everything.

If Van Til were willing to begin with us at that starting point and then argue from the observation of the world around that God alone explains everything, we could not agree more. C.S. Lewis makes a good deal of the fact that one could not confidently think without ultimately assuming a rational being at the head of the universe; but he does not begin with this rational being. By contrast, Van Til insists that a person must begin at that point. We find it difficult, therefore, to understand his casually saying that. of course, everybody begins at the common-sense, proximate starting point. We wish Van Til would acknowledge this all the time, instead of almost always supposing that anybody who starts there makes a fatal error because he necessarily ends there. No, the traditional theist does not end there. And yes, the presuppositionalist too must always begin there. Van Til's exception in the above case shows him to be inconsistent. This is apparent when any line of Vantillian thinking is pursued. He vacillates from one position to another -- without being aware of it, for he certainly does not defend vacillation, though he does defend circularity of reasoning. He glories in circles. But we do not find even Van Til glorying in vacillation. Van Til consistently confuses God as the ontological starting point with God as the epistemological starting point; from this confusion arises his vacillation.

(Sproul et al, 212, 214-216)

Sources

Aquinas, St. Thomas, Summa Theologiae, in Basic Writings of Saint Thomas Aquinas, edited by Anton Pegis, revision of the English Dominican Fathers' translation, New York: Random House, 1945.

Clark, Mary T., editor, An Aquinas Reader, London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1972.

Copi, Irving M., Introduction to Logic, 4th edition, New York: Macmillan, 1972.

Fairweather, A.M., editor, Nature and Grace: Selections from the Summa Theologica of Thomas Aquinas, Library of Christian Classics, Philadelphia: Westminster, 1954.

Geisler, Norman L., Christian Apologetics, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Book House, 1976.

Kelly, J.N.D., Early Christian Doctrines, San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1978.

Nash, Ronald H., The Word of God and the Mind of Man, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 1982.

Nash, Ronald H. [2], editor, The Philosophy of Gordon H. Clark, Philadelphia: Presbyterian and Reformed, 1968.

Oberman, Heiko, The Harvest of Medieval Theology, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Eerdmans, revised, 1967.

Pelikan, Jaroslav, The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine: Vol. 1 of 5: The Emergence of the Catholic Tradition (100-600), Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press, 1971.

Ruegsegger, Ronald W., editor, Reflections on Francis Schaeffer, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan Publishing House / Academie Books, 1986.

Schaeffer, Francis, How Should We Then Live?, Old Tappan, New Jersey: Fleming H. Revell, 1976.

Schaeffer, Francis [2], Escape From Reason, Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity, 1968.

Sproul, R.C., John Gerstner, and Arthur Lindsley, Classical Apologetics: A Rational Defense of the Christian Faith and a Critique of Presuppositional Apologetics, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan Publishing House / Academie Books, 1984.

Van Til, Cornelius, The Defense of the Faith, Philadelphia: Presbyterian and Reformed, 1955.

Van Til, Cornelius [2], The Defense of the Faith, Phillipsburg, New Jersey: Presbyterian and Reformed Pub. Co. 3rd revised edition, 1967.

Van Til, Cornelius [3], Systematic Theology, Classroom Syllabus, 1949.

Van Til, Cornelius [4], A Survey of Christian Epistemology, Den Dulk Foundation, 1969.

Uploaded on 28 October 2004 by Dave Armstrong.

Dialogue With "CPA" (Lutheran) on Transubstantiation and Church History

"CPA" was an adult convert; he was baptized on Easter 1994 and attends the Lutheran Church -- Missouri Synod (LCMS). He is a Professor of Mongolian Studies at Indiana University. At first, he was responding to my replies to another Lutheran (Josh). His words will be in blue. Words of Catholics Jonathan Prejean and James Caputo will be in green and purple, respectively.

Your criticism of Josh's post relies on crucial ambiguities as to what "Transubstantiation" as a doctrine actually is.

Not at all. Your criticism of my paper relies on crucial ambiguities and misunderstandings as to what I was referring to at any given time. This is why context is always supremely important. Critics can project what they think the other is thinking (in this case, you presuppose that I am always referring to transubstantiation, when I am not necessarily doing so). You would have to point out to me where you think I do this (by actually citing my words!), then I would be happy to clarify and show how you have mistakenly interpreted me.

At some points, you use it simply as 1) a synonym for "Real Presence" as when you quote Williston Walker saying the "Real Presence" is known from the 2nd century and think this is actually relevant to the issue at hand. (All Lutherans believe the doctrine of the Real Presence is apostolic in origin.)

Another misinterpretation: "Real Presence" is not at issue; transubstantiation is. I don't think transubstantiation is a "synonym" for real presence; I think it is one particular interpretation of the larger category. I cited Walker mainly for the second sentence in the citation: "The essentials of the 'Catholic' view were already at hand by 253." The "Catholic" view involves transformation. This was my particular argument in context. Now, it may be the case that this wasn't what Walker had in mind (thinking only of a more generic notion of "Real Presence"). That's a legitimate concern. The other two historians I cited, however (Pelikan and Schaff), did make it clear that transformationism was taught early on. Schaff wrote (about the period prior to 600):

In general, this period, . . . was already very strongly inclined toward the doctrine of transubstantiation.
Pelikan noted (also referring to the time period before 600 A.D.):
. . . these and similar passages in Theodore are an indication that the twin ideas of the transformation of the eucharistic elements and the transformation of the communicant were so widely held and so firmly established in the thought and language of the church that everyone had to acknowledge them.
In any event, I was not at any time equating Real Presence and transubstantiation (because I've never believed that, and it is rather silly). I was replying to the charge that transubstantiation necessarily relies upon Aristotle. So throw out Walker as not explicit enough, if you like, but you still have to deal with Pelikan and Schaff.

2) At other times you use it for the non-philosophical belief that after consecration there is no bread and wine, only our Lord's body and blood, in the Supper.

That's right: transformation again.

Yet at other times, you use the term for 3) the specific Thomistic doctrine, phrased in philosophical language, that the accidents of bread and wine remain while the substance is that of Christ's body and blood.

Again, I'd have to see what it is (specifically) in my argument and words that you object to. That requires quoting words and making some sort of argument, rather than this sort of "meta-analysis" that wants to speak generally, rather than taking on the burden of a comprehensive reply (i.e., an actual dialogue). I didn't reply to you, so the burden is more Josh's (if he wishes to take it up), but I get frustrated by the non-interactive nature of much of Internet discourse. That's why hardly anything is ever accomplished by it; it's simply mutual monologue. Anyone can give their own views. Big wow. The real learning and education (and challenge) comes in actually directly interacting with critics and other views. I'll keep pointing out what actual dialogue entails till my dying breath.

Josh's point was that definition 3 stand or falls on the adequacy of the philosophical distinction of substance and accident, as a way of speaking about ordinary material entities. If that philosophical analysis does not work, as a way of dealing with matter, then transubstantiation in definition 3 is useless because it explains miraculous, spiritual realities in terms of an obsolete philosophical physics.

I don't believe that the Catholic doctrine necessarily relies on Aristotle. This is a very common complaint, but I deny that it is true in the first place. I gave arguments as to why, in my replies to both Alastair or Josh. But then we are right back to my paper again. If you wish to dispute my argument, then by all means, please attempt to refute it point-by-point, rather than this scattershot approach.

You may still go back to definition 2, but you have to then admit that definition 3 was never actually an eternally valid dogmatic formulation, only a temporarily useful theological opinion.

I always did admit that, so it is no problem. That's why I kept mentioning that the Orthodox accept total transformation without getting into all the philosophical particulars and "rationalism" (so do the Fathers). The essence of the doctrine is transformation. That's what I defended. And of course I critiqued other alternative explanations (Reformed / Lutheran).

The heart of Josh's argument is that substance-accidence philosophy is in fact obsolete and that therefore Aquinas's transubstantiation is at best a very clumsy, rebarbative, and obsolete way of stating what Theodore, Chrysostom, and the other post-Nicene fathers you cited stated in a non-philosophical way.

Let him come defend his entire post and critique mine.

You do then have to explain 1) why it is that no ante-Nicene father actually expresses that doctrine;

They express transformation. This is precisely what we would expect, because there were still many centuries of development yet to occur (as with many other, if not most, doctrines). What the Fathers show us is what Schaff said about them: they were "very strongly inclined toward the doctrine of transubstantiation." You can either say he is all wet or drop this objection as pointless.

2) why the analogy of bread:Christ's body::Christ's human nature:Christ's divine nature is the first, most common, and principal ante-Nicene explanation of the Real Presence; and 3) what authority the hierarchy ever had to declare an obsolete (albeit temporarily useful) opinion a dogma of the Church.

The philosophy is not essential to the definitions and dogma. You don't like the terminology of "substance" and "accidents"? Then give us a better philosophical (or theological) explanation.

The Catholic Church has authority because of Petrine primacy and apostolic succession. How and why does Lutheranism have authority, and why should all be subject to it? On what basis should Catholics have accepted Luther's dissident claims, as he was simply one man with a bunch of opinions (some right, some wrong)? Or for that matter, the Book of Concord? If you can't trace your opinions back to the apostles, then they are of little worth. They're just . . . traditions of men (in the negative sense of that term; unbiblical and unhistorical opinions).

The business about fine points of Lutheran eucharistic theology is very interesting, but remember that the subject at hand was critiques of transubstantiation, from both Alastair and Josh. I'd be happy — delighted — to learn more about Lutheran theology, but one thing at a time. Let's be sure we understand what the Catholic doctrine is, and the defense for it, before going on to another major topic.

And do you think the Catholic Church is a Christian institution, every bit as worthy of that name as Lutheranism or any Protestant denomination?

As Josh pointed out here [link], the "trademark" on the term consubstantiation was secured by the Franciscans a long time before Luther. Thus to say the Lutherans teach consubstantiation is to say that they follow the arguments and modes of thinking of the Franciscans on the Lord's Supper. This is not true; while there are areas of similarity, the mode of thinking about the Lord's Supper and the context of the doctrine in the Lutheran and Franciscan traditions is fundamentally different. Thus one could say, "the Lutheran doctrine of the Real Presence bears a number of similarities to consubstantiation" but not "the Lutheran confession teach consubstantiation."

* * *

In your reply to my final points you didn't understand my point since you evidently did not notice the word "ante-Nicene". I asked "why it is that no ante-Nicene father actually expresses that doctrine?" You pointed me again to Schaff saying in his history of the church from AD 311 to 600 that in that period most believed in transformation. Interesting, but irrelevant, since ante-Nicene means before 311, not after. And again you point me to Pelican who cites Theodore. Again interesting but irrelevant, since Theodore's dates [c.350-428] are not ante-Nicene. Williston Walker says "the essentials of the 'Catholic' view were already at hand by 253." OK that's at least relevant to the ante-Nicene issue, but I'd like to know what he considers "the essentials" and I'd like to know what he means by "at hand" (is it "expressed by one or two persons" or "expressed by a consensus" or what?). If you have an ante-Nicene father on hand clearly expressing the transformation point of view, or the absence of bread and wine, I would certainly consider this is evidence to be considered on your side. Whether it outweighs the strong evidence of early theologians such as Irenaeus that the bread and wine remain, is another question.

Even with the post-Nicene fathers there is important evidence on the Lutheran side in passages such as this, by Pope Gelasius (AD 492):

Certainly the Sacraments of the body and blood of Christ are a divine thing, through which we are made partakers of the divine nature; and yet the substance or nature of bread and wine does not cease to be (tamen esse non desinit substantia, vel natura panis et vini).
You're right. I didn't notice the "ante-Nicene" part of your query. That is harder to find indeed, because of the lower level of development (Christology is the same, so this should cause no great alarm to our position or anyone else's on this).

I found one quote from St. Justin Martyr; see what you think of this:

For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Saviour,having been made flesh and blood for our salvation,so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word,and from which our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished,is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh.

(First Apology, 66; A.D. 110-165,in ANF,I:185)

Catholic William Jurgens, in his translation, has the phrase ". . . the food which has been made into the eucharist by the Eucharistic prayer . . ." Perhaps he shows some bias there; I don't know. That would be for the patristic and Greek scholars to work out.

Jurgens also translates St. Irenaeus (Against Heresies, V, 2, 2), writing:

When, therefore, the mixed cup and the baked bread receives the Word of God and becomes the Eucharist, the Body of Christ . . .

(Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, Vol. 1, 99)

Do these qualify as primitive versions of transubstantiation?

Let me first lay down the ground rule that both those who hold the Lutheran position and those who hold to transubstantiation can say of the bread, "This is the true body of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ" (indeed my Lutheran pastor says it to me every Sunday as he offers me the bread). Compare: both the docetist and the orthodox Christian can say of the man Jesus, "This is the living God." Where they differ is that the docetist says, "there is no real body, no real human nature there," while the orthodox Christian says, "yes, this is the living God, but also a true man, with true body and true human nature." Just so, the difference between the Roman Catholic and the Lutheran on the Eucharist is that the Roman Catholic says "there is no real bread, no real substance of bread there," while the Lutheran says "yes, this is Christ’s true body, but also true and natural bread." So simple assertions that this bread is the "true body of our Lord" do not establish the transubstantiation position, but simply the Real Presence. What is needed to distinguish between these two dogmas of the Real Presence, is some actual denial of the reality of bread, or a denial of the full analogy between the sacramental union of Christ’s body and bread and his two natures, or some other additional phrasing.

The illustration of this is quite clear in Irenaeus, who in Book V.2 as you note, writes (arguing against those who deny the resurrection of the flesh):

When, therefore, the mingled cup and the manufactured bread receives the Word of God, and the Eucharist of the blood and the body of Christ is made, from which things the substance of our flesh is increased and supported, how can they affirm that the flesh is incapable of receiving the gift of God, which is life eternal, which [flesh] is nourished from the body and blood of the Lord, and is a member of Him?
Here the Real Presence is asserted, but not specifically transubstantiation.

This becomes clear in chapter IV.18 when this founder of Christian theology goes into greater detail (again speaking of docetists who deny the resurrection of the flesh):

Then, again, how can they say that the flesh, which is nourished with the body of the Lord and with His blood, goes to corruption, and does not partake of life? Let them, therefore, either alter their opinion, or cease from offering the things just mentioned [i.e. Eucharistic elements]. But our opinion is in accordance with the Eucharist, and the Eucharist in turn establishes our opinion. For we offer to Him His own, announcing consistently the fellowship and union of the flesh and Spirit. For as the bread, which is produced from the earth, when it receives the invocation of God, is no longer common bread, but the Eucharist, consisting of two realities, earthly and heavenly; so also our bodies, when they receive the Eucharist, are no longer corruptible, having the hope of the resurrection to eternity.

(Emphasis added).

Irenaeus' Eucharistic theology, as seen in this well known (at least to Lutherans) passage, is clearly incompatible with transubstantiation. If your source, William Jurgens, let you going into a debate ignorant of this passage, you ought to demand your money back.

Thus in reading Justin Martyr, let us first of all note (in case it was in doubt) that the "transmutation" (metaboleen) in context here clearly refers to the natural metabolism of bread and blood into our body, not to transubstantiation (as some tried to argue in the past). This is the same point which Irenaeus emphasized in V.2. More importantly, note that the analogy of God's becoming incarnate as flesh is specifically stated to be the manner by which the sacrament is the body of Christ. The presumption is thus that there are two natures in the sacrament as well. In any case, Justin Martyr's words do not sharply divide between the two views of the Real Presence, although they lean in a Lutheran-type direction. In particular, the close similarity in reasoning between these two writers who seem to have no literary dependence, indicates that Irenaeus and Justin Martyr drew on a common second-century Euchasistic theology, and that that theology (the first known theology of the Eucharist) is clearly incompatible with transubstantiation's denial of the nature of bread remaining in the sacrament, and just as clearly compatible with Lutheranism's affirmation of that nature, and our fundamental analogy of the sacramental union of bread and Christ’s body with the personal union of Christ's two natures.

I can't debate further Justin Martyr's and Irenaeus' views. That would be for scholars. I appreciate the further information you have provided. Let me just ask you, then: granting that transformational views became prevalent in the 4th and 5th centuries and thereafter, how do (or, would) you account for that? Would you say that the doctrine became corrupted beyond repair at that time, leading up to the "excesses" of medieval Catholic theology and theory?

If so, then why do you think that the same Fathers in the same time period got Christology right (where we would agree), but got eucharistic theology so wrong, and took it in the wrong direction?

And moreover, on what basis does one decide that the Fathers (taken as a whole) were right on doctrine x, but wrong on doctrine y? If the individual decides, then you leave yourself open to all the charges against individualism, as unbiblical, leading to rampant sectarianism and de facto theological relativism, etc. If it is a group (Catholic Church or Lutheran Church or Reformed Church, etc.), on what basis do we decide the authority of such a group to make such a determination, over against competing claimants? And would it not be required to establish an unbroken chain of doctrine, back to the apostles?

Granting the latter notion, it then becomes a problem if the 3rd century Fathers flat-out denied transubstantiation (as you seem to be arguing), but the 4th and 5th century Fathers asserted it (which would be a reversal of what came before). The patristic consensus would thus become a pretty big difficulty for those who deny what the later Fathers, with one to two centuries more reflection and development, came to believe.

J.N.D. Kelly attests to the facts of eucharistic theology in the 4th and 5th centuries:

Almost everywhere, however, this conception of the sacrament was yielding ground to the more popular, vividly materialistic theory which regarded the elements as being converted into the Lord's body and blood . . .

[he then cites Athanasius, Cyril of Jerusalem, and Gregory of Nyssa]

. . . from this time onwards the language of conversion became regular in the East.

. . . In the fifth century conversionist views were taken for granted by Alexandrians and Antiochenes alike.

Also, Kelly writes of the period:
. . . the eucharist was regarded without question as the Christian sacrifice.

(Early Christian Doctrines, San Francisco: Harper, revised edition of 1978, 442-444,449)

So the Lutheran task (and that of anyone who denies both transubstantiation and the Sacrifice of the Mass, as you do) is to explain how both "corruptions" became the norm and the standard theology by the 4th century, or 5th at the latest. The Catholic, on the other hand, can simply hold that earlier views were so primitive in development that the notion of conversion was not yet dealt with (similar to many aspects of Christology, which took many centuries to be fully explicated). The historical data poses no serious difficulty for us.

I appreciate your basic concession that the conversionist view is a post-Nicene innovation, which will spare me from quoting Cyprian on how the wine is "sanctified by the blood of Christ," etc., etc. If Kelly had in fact said the same thing (as he seems to have from your quotation), you too could have spared us the debate by stipulating that at the beginning.

This all depends on what you mean by "post-Nicene innovation." If by that you mean that doctrine radically reversed itself, so that what was generally accepted in the 4th and 5th centuries was a corruption of what came before (and a contradiction, and therefore, false doctrine), then I don't believe that at all (and nothing I wrote suggests it).

But if you mean that doctrine developed, and new ways of understanding arose, concerning what was already accepted in a more general, primitive way (a deeper understanding and more explicit explanation of eucharistic doctrine), then yes, I do accept that. My opinion is that the transformational motif and theology was a consistent development of the teachings on real presence before Nicaea. This became the patristic consensus. And it is what you must explain, because it goes against your Lutheran theology (which claims to hearken back to patristic theology).

I don't agree, however, that Irenaeus's view was, however, "so primitive in development." By what independent standard is it to be considered "primitive"?

By the patristic consensus and more highly-developed theology later on. The earlier understanding of theology is interpreted within the framework of hindsight, from the vantage-point of what later arose. This is true of all Christian doctrines (including those upon which you and I would agree). This is "independent" because it relies upon the data of history: what did the Fathers (generally) believe in the 3rd century, 5th century, 7th century, and so on? Once that is determined, then one must decide how authoritative the Fathers as a group of teachers are, and how they will decide what to accept and what to reject in their teachings. The authority of some Church somewhere will necessarily have to be accepted, to do that. The task is to come up with a consistent, coherent interpretation of both biblical theology and the history of theological opinion within the mainstream Christian tradition.

This notion was explained by Jaroslav Pelikan, writing as a Lutheran:

Tertullian's summary of these four gifts makes it clear "that by the end of the second century, if not fifty years earlier, the doctrine of baptism (even without the aid of controversy to give it precision) was so fully developed that subsequent ages down to our own have found nothing significant to add to it."

The same cannot be said in any sense about the doctrine of the real presence of the body and blood of Christ in the Eucharist, which did not become the subject of controversy until the ninth century. The definitive and precise formulation of the crucial doctrinal issues concerning the Eucharist had to await that controversy and others that followed even later. This does not mean at all, however, that the church did not yet have a doctrine of the Eucharist; it does mean that the statements of the doctrine must not be sought in polemical and dogmatic treatises devoted to sacramental theology. It means also that the effort to cross-examine the fathers of the second or third century about where they stood in the controversies of the ninth or sixteenth century is both silly and futile.

Perhaps the best illustration of such futility is the controversy that has been carried on, at least since the sixteenth century, over the eucharistic teaching of Irenaeus, especially over one passage [Heresies 4,18,5: the very one cited by CPA above as a "slam dunk" for his position].

. . . no orthodox father of the second or third century of whom we have record either declared the presence of the body and blood of Christ in the Eucharist to be no more than symbolic (although Clement and Origen came close to doing so) or specified a process of substantial change by which the presence was effected (although Ignatius and Justin came close to doing so).

. . . the adoration of Christ in the Eucharist through the words and action of the liturgy seems to have presupposed that this was a special presence, neither distinct from nor merely illustrative of his presence in the church.

. . . The theologians did not have adequate concepts within which to formulate a doctrine of the real presence that evidently was always believed by the church even though it was not yet taught by explicit instruction or confessed by creeds.

As Irenaeus's reference to the Eucharist as "not common bread" indicates, however, this doctrine of the real presence believed by the church and affirmed by its liturgy was closely tied to the idea of the Eucharist as a sacrifice. Many of the passages we have already cited concerning the recollection and the real presence spoke also of the sacrifice . . . One of the most ample and least ambiguous statements of the sacrificial interpretation of the eucharist in any ante-Nicene theologian was that of Cyprian, who is also one of the earliest authorities for the sacerdotal interpretation of the Christian ministry. In the course of a discussion of liturgical problems, Cyprian laid down the axiom:

If Jesus Christ, our Lord and God, is himself the chief priest of God the Father, and has first offered himself a sacrifice to the Father, and has commanded this to be done in commemoration of himself, certainly that priest truly discharges the office of Christ who imitates that which Christ did; and he then offers a true and full sacrifice in the church to God the Father, when he proceeds to offer it according to what he sees Christ himself to have offered.
This was based on the belief that "the passion of the Lord is the sacrifice which we offer." The sacrifice of Christ on Calvary was a complete offering; the sacrifice of the eucharist did not add anything to it, nor did it "repeat" it, as though there were more than one sacrifice.

[Cyprian references: Epistles, 63,14; 63,17]

. . . The much-debated words of Justin about the "transmutation" taking place in the Eucharist may be a reference either to the change effected in the elements by their consecration or to transformation of the human body through the gift of immortality or to both.

. . . Liturgical evidence suggests an understanding of the Eucharist as a sacrifice, whose relation to the sacrifices of the Old Testament was one of archetype to type, and whose relation to the sacrifice of Calvary was one of "re-presentation," just as the bread of the Eucharist "re-presented" the body of Christ.

. . . Great theological refinement was needed before these modes of speaking could be built up into a eucharistic theology; above all, the doctrine of the person of Christ had to be clarified before there could be concepts that could bear the weight of eucharistic teaching.

. . . It was only after the conflict between Augustine and the Donatists that Western theology was able to begin constructing a full-blown theory about the nature and number of the sacraments, and it was not until the Middle Ages that such a theory was evolved. But the early centuries in the development of doctrine had the assignment of clarifying the function of the church as the means of grace; this clarification was the prerequisite for any understanding of the word of God and the sacraments.

(The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine: Volume 1: The Emergence of the Catholic Tradition (100-600), University of Chicago Press: 1971, 166-171; citing Ernest Evans, Tertullian's Homily on Baptism, London: 1964, xxix; emphasis added)

How can you demonstrate that conversionism won out over the two natures view of the Eucharist due to its greater "advancement", except of course by simply assuming that a view which lost out must be more primitive?

It "won out" because that was God's plan for the development of true eucharistic theology. The Catholic has faith that God can protect His Church from error. If you believe, on the other hand, that God cannot do so, then you would expect to fiond doctrinal error and confusion all over the place. We would then be on our own. We believe that a God Who could become man is able to preserve true doctrine and theology in the Body of Christ, the Church: an extension of the Incarnation. It's no more difficult to believe in a Body of Christ which is protected by God the Father than it is to believe in the Incarnation itself.

We accept this on faith, and so we believe that the history of the Church has great importance as to what is true doctrine and what isn't. St. Paul passed down the apostolic deposit. History helps us determine what this doctrine was, and how it consistently developed through the centuries. Catholic apologist Mark Shea explains (in agreement with Jaroslav Pelikan's opinions above) why transubstantiation was a much later development than real presence itself:

[T]he Eastern Church fathers coined the term meta-ousiosis (literally "change of being") to describe the Eucharistic miracle at consecration. So in both East and West, we have virtually no evidence that it even occurred to any orthodox believer to doubt the Eucharist is the body and blood of Christ for centuries.

But in the 9th Century, there arise the first ripples of real controversy. At this time, a French monk named Ratramnus asks in essence, "But how can this be the body and blood of Christ?" He holds that Christ's body in the Eucharist cannot be the same as Christ's crucified and risen body because the Eucharistic body cannot be seen or felt. In a word, for Ratramnus, the Real Presence is "spiritual" (and therefore not physical). This line of reasoning inevitably leads Ratramnus (and all those who follow his lead) to increasingly regard the Eucharist as a "mere symbol" of the "true" (meaning "non-physical") reality rather than as the true body and blood taught by the Apostles. Eventually, his theory is condemned by the Synod of Vercelli, but the controversy continues for two more centuries and Ratramnus is at length championed by Archdeacon Berengar of Tours. In response to this, Pope Gregory VII writes a formal declaration of the Church's faith (reiterating the biblical and patristic teaching concerning the literalness of the Church's belief on the point) and requires Berengar to submit to it. But the ferment continues.

It is in the midst of this ferment that the term "transubstantiation" is finally coined by the Western Church in the 13th Century to more precisely define how the "being" or "substance" of the bread and wine is divinely changed into the being or substance of Christ Jesus. But as we have already seen, this belief (now expressed under a newly coined term) is not itself new. Thus, transubstantiation turns out to be, not pulled from thin air, but rooted in the same revelation the Eastern Church had tried to describe centuries before with the term meta-ousiosis. And meta-ousiosis is itself merely a more technical way of reiterating the clear (though mysterious) teaching of our Lord and his Apostles in Scripture. Paradoxically, the Church invented a new word so it could continue guarding a very old revelation from Christ himself.

("The Real Presence and the Development of Doctrine," 2001)

Furthermore, the same person, St. Irenaeus, whom you want to cite in favor of your view, believed in the Sacrifice of the Mass, which you reject:
. . . [Jesus] taught the new oblation of the new covenant, which the Church, receiving from the Apostles, offers to God throughout the world . . . concerning which Malachy, among the twelve prophets, thus spoke beforehand [he then cites Malachi 1:10-11] . . . indicating in the plainest manner by these words, that the former people (the Jews) shall indeed cease to make offerings to God, but that in every place sacrifice shall be offered to him, and that a pure one; and his name is glorified among the Gentiles.

(Heresies, 4,17,5, ANF)

You still have, therefore, several serious problems to resolve:
1. How can a Lutheran maintain historical continuity of eucharistic doctrine, leading up to the Lutheran view, given the fact of widespread acceptance of conversionist or transformational views on the Eucharist (primitive versions of the later highly-developed transubstantiation) by the 4th and 5th centuries (which Lutheranism rejects)?

2. How does a Lutheran account for the early Fathers' widespread acceptance of adoration of the consecrated elements (which Lutheranism rejects)?

3. How does a Lutheran account for the early Fathers' widespread acceptance of the Sacrifice of the Mass (which Lutheranism rejects)?

The Catholic position entails none of these difficulties. We agree with the two latter beliefs, which developed more rapidly than transubstantiation. And we can easily explain why the "hows and whys" of the Eucharist developed more slowly, and show that earlier statements do not necessarily contradict the later understanding (and individual Fathers can always be mistaken). We agree with Pelikan that it is "silly and futile" to try to find in the earliest Fathers a decisive conclusion one way or the other, and that, at this early stage, they "did not have adequate concepts within which to formulate a doctrine of the real presence," and that "great theological refinement was needed before these modes of speaking could be built up into a eucharistic theology." Since all of this was written by an eminent Church historian who was Lutheran then, and Orthodox now, it obviously isn't the analysis of a Catholic partisan (or Catholic apologist like myself).

As for the answer to your questions about authority, they seem so simple to me that you will undoubtedly bang your head against a wall in frustration when I say, that what developments in church tradition are correct can be decided by comparing them to Scripture.

I see nothing in transubstantiation which is contrary to Scripture. But I would contend that Scripture isn't explicit enough on this matter to resolve it. That's nothing unusual. Scripture says nothing at all definitive about the so-called "biblical" doctrine of sola Scriptura. That didn't, however, stop
Luther and Lutherans and other Protestants from arbitrarily adopting this unbiblical doctrine (and radically new inovation) and making it their very centerpiece of authority and epistemology; indeed, their rule of faith, upon which everything else is judged. There is nothing whatsoever in the Scripture about the biblical canon.

That was accepted on Church authority. One does find in Scripture a strong literalism regarding the Eucharist being the Body and Blood of Christ. If that is true, then obviously the bread and wine had to become transformed (either partially or totally, if they still remain in some fashion alongside the True Body and Blood). And that leads us right to speculation about transformation. This is what took centuries to develop (just as Christology and things like the canon of Scripture and, e.g., the doctrine of original sin, did).

It is of course a presupposition of Roman Catholic and Orthodox apologetics that Scripture, indeed any written document, is so multivocal as to be essentially useless as a source of authority.

It is? That's news to me. I have never heard this before, and I have been doing Catholic apologetics for over 14 years, and general Christian apologetics for 24 years. You obviously have only a dim knowledge of our viewpoint with regard to authority in general, and biblical authority in particular. But that's a huge topic, for another time. I want to merely make it abundantly clear (as an apologist who represents and defends Catholic theology) that you are grossly misrepresenting what either Catholics or Orthodox believe about the authority of the Bible.

I simply disagree with this nihilistic skepticism of written texts in general and Scripture in particular.

Yes, so do we! I see no reason to create differences where there are none. What we deny is sola Scriptura, but that is a far different thing from denying the authority of Holy Scripture (which explicitly denies sola Scriptura in the first place).

(And to your question of "if Scriptural authority is effective as authority how come there is such multiplicity of interpretations?"

I'd have to see a direct citation of what I wrote. If I wrote the above, it would have to be interpreted as expressing opposition to sola Scriptura, not at all to biblical authority itself. The latter is merely your erroneous take on my argument.

I will simply respond "if apostolic succession is so effective as authority, how come there is such a multiplicity of independent churches—Roman, Eastern Orthodox, Oriental Orthodox, Anglican, Swedish Lutheran, Assyrian—not in communion each claiming it?"

All that would prove is that Christians tend to be sectarian. One has to examine each particular case. I have shown in this paper how the Fathers accepted the Sacrifice of the Mass and adoration of the consecrated elements. These are Catholic beliefs (and to a large extent, Orthodox ones). There are many other such doctrines that could be scrutinized (e.g., Mariology, ecclesiology, penance, soteriology). We can show that Catholic doctrine is in continuity with the consensus of the Fathers on all these issues. That is how one decides which Church has preeminent authority. This was how the Fathers themselves decided the issue.

and "if Papal authority is so effective as an authority, how did it happen that by 1054 not a single other apostolic or patriarchal see recognized that authority?"

Oh, there are many reasons for that. But the fact that someone doesn't recognize what is, in fact a truth, is no disproof of that truth. Obviously, Christian truth is not determined by taking a head count.

Practically speaking, you and I both recognize that conversionist vs. two-natures views of the Eucharist are rather minor distinctions compared to the Trinity, or even justification by faith alone. (This is clear from our recognition of each others' baptisms, and from our dogmatic statements.) Hence I too have no "serious difficulty" saying that while being confronted with and successfully battling a fundamental challenge to the faith, the post-Nicene fathers let a number of mistaken, albeit non-fundamental, views come to prominence. Indeed there remained churchmen in good standing espousing two-natures views of the Eucharist for centuries and the matter was never formally pronounced upon by any council in ancient church.

Your "answer," then, to your historical difficulties, is to simply posit that the Fathers were mistaken en masse on something so central to Christianity as the very act of weekly worship. They got it wrong concerning the Sacrifice of the Mass and Eucharistic Adoration, thus leading Christians to a notion of worship which is considered rank idolatry by many Protestants today, and was also by Luther and Calvin, when they started putting their revolutionary novelties into place. This included almost all of the Fathers (even as early as St. Irenaeus, as shown above). After the 4th century or 5th at the latest, acceptance of transformational views of the Eucharist was quite widespread as well.

But you can deny all that because the system of sola Scriptura ultimately reduces to a-historicism and skepticism of almost all ecclesiastical authority. In the end, the individual is free to (indeed, highly encouraged) to discover every theological truth on their own (in consultation, of course, with pastors and scholars). Hence, we see the resulting chaos and de facto relativism in Protestant theology, almost from the beginning. That's the fruit of your Protestant experiment.

We Catholics, on the other hand, believe that the Catholic Church is preserving (and has historically preserved) the original apostolic deposit of faith, developed but essentially the same as what was received from the apostles; passed down through apostolic succession and protected by the guidance of the Holy Spirit, particularly by the popes and ecumenical councils. None of the patristic historical data we have been discussing overthrows our understanding of doctrine (including eucharistic doctrine) or authority at all, but it creates several insuperable problems for your view (insofar as you wish to trace your beliefs to those same Fathers as a group of theologians, over against Catholics or Orthodox, or even historically-minded Protestant groups such as traditional Anglicans).

The following material is drawn from the comments for this post on my blog, and includes also my additional counter-replies.

As a former Jehovah's Witness, these kind of corruption arguments, and patristic proof-texting on an individualistic basis send up a fleet of red flags. I would love to put CPA in contact with some JW scholars who argue precisely as he does regarding the trinity doctrine. In fact, they can do so with a greater facility given the lack of technical terminology and multivocal use of words. They simply assert an earlier corruption than does CPA. But then again, why made the ante-Nicene period the cut-off point in the first place. Who decides the temporal point of demarcaton and on what explicit "biblical" grounds?

James,

As Dave himself says, "But the fact that someone doesn't recognize what is, in fact a truth, is no disproof of that truth. Obviously, Christian truth is not determined by taking a head count." So the fact that some Jehovah's Witnesses do not accept the truth of the Biblical witness about the Trinity is no disproof of that truth.

I never said it was. My argument turned on the fact that the "biblical witness" or the "patristic witness" for the trinity or the real presence is construed differently by different people according to one's epistemological presuppositions.

For Jehovah's Witness all biblical inquiry starts with the presumption that all there is to know is found explicitly in scripture. An example of one such explicit teaching is that Jesus and his father are not the same "person." Since I saw no "person"/"being" distinction in the New Testament (a linguistic distinction created at a later time to better express the nature of the Godhead), I viewed said distinction with a jaundiced eye, as a metaphysical smoke screen, a post-apostolic accretion to the primitive belief of Jesus as "the first of God's creation," the one "who came to be" alongside God as a master worker.

Once I came to appreciate that the Church had not apostatized, that there was a general consensus on the nature of Jesus' divinity, that differences in the ante-Nicene era touched even on the canon of the NT and that Tradition and Church authority bear heavily on the resolution of the matter, that development is inevitable and a natural process of all healthy growth, that the Church is both human and divine and part of our faith based on the promises of Christ and the operation of the Holy Spirit found therein, etc.. - the interpretive prism through which I viewed the data was radically altered and thus my acceptance of the Trinity dogma followed naturally and inescapably. My epistemological presuppositions were preventing me from accepting the dogma. The data were not neutral. They were theory-laden.

Now to the parallel; Catholics believe that a transformation takes place in the bread and wine rendering them the body and blood of our Lord. We can point to biblical texts that would suggest that much. We can point to patristic texts and scholarly support that would suggest that much. (btw, Jehovah's Witnesses can do likewise in support of a symbolic understanding of the elements. They can even point to the Quatordecimans as "proof positive" that early Christians had communion once a year. Polycarp seems to be on their side in that matter. Not too shabby!) Historically speaking, however, one must wait some time (as with the full understanding of the nature of God) to see the fullest expression of what we Catholics believe the Bible to teach on that Eucharistic transformation.

Your arguments against the Catholic understanding of the real presence are similar to the arguments I employed against the Trinity when I was a Jehovah's Witness. It was my contention that the closer one was to the apostles and their precise articulation of the truth (as construed in my own mind-brain or that of a dozen men in Brooklyn, New York 1900 years after the fact), the closer one finds himself to the unadulterated truth. In re: of the Trinity; I As a Jehovah's Witness would give much more weight to Clement's letter to the Corinthians (which doesn't speak much of a tri-personal Godhead) than I would, say, the writings of Tertullian, Augustine or Athanasius. (This shouldn't come as a suprise to you given the fact that folks like James White claim "sola scriptura" to be part and parcel of said writings.) In fact, the writings of the latter men would appreciably lose credibility in my eyes seeing that their vocabulary on the matter sounds much less "biblical" and much more "metaphysical" - replete with the introduction of new terminology.

If you need to be a Catholic to keep yourself from being a Jehovah's Witness, bully for you.

I need to be a Catholic because I need to be a part of the Church founded by Christ, one rooted in history, one that is universal, one that has the spiritual gifts of the Holy Spirit in an unbroken line of succession, one in which there is an holistic and organic growth in theological understanding. But to become a Catholic I also needed to stop assuming that great minds of the past miraculously all embraced the same error all at the same time and all in the same way. I needed to recognize that Jesus' divinity in the apostolic era was apprehended in an uncomplicated way as "My Lord and my God" and that the Nicene creed is simply a more fomal way of expressing that truth even if a more nuanced vocabulary was pressed into service. I needed to recognize that the Eucharist or real presence was understood in the apostolic era in an uncomplicated way - sharing in "the body and blood" of the Lord, - whereas later theologians present us with a more crystallized way of expressing that same truth even if a more nuanced vocabulary was pressed into service. These lessons have served me well.

Your claim, however, that all Protestants really should be Jehovah's Witnesses if they "took their argument to its logical conclusion" is simply not true.

Again, an argument not of my making. My argument is that Jehovah's Witnesses are a caricature of Protestantism. All Protestant sects argue similarly to Jehovah's Witnesses - although to varying degrees. They each claim that scripture is the ultimate authority when, in fact, they set up their own human authorities whose interpretations become normative via some presumed ecclesial authority not rooted in historical continuity. Each claims (to varying degrees) that the Church slipped into heresy at some specified time regarding some specified doctrine. Each group disagrees with each other on the nature of the heresy or the time in question, but joins hands in protest against the Church catholic. My position is that non-catholics function more or less from the same arbitrary epistemological presuppositions and that such an epistemology has anarchy built into it's DNA.

It's along the lines of Bultmann's famous claim that "someone using an electric razor cannot believe in miracles." Sorry, we can and we do. And someone believing in the Scriptures alone can and does find the Trinity to be taught there clearly.

Both you in this case and Josh (vis-a-vis Dave's "molecular" analogy with ice and water) could use some practice at charitably interpreting the purpose for which an analogy is drawn. The point of a reductio ad absurdum (such as the one James used) is to show the fallacy of an argument used to justify a position, not a flaw in the position itself. It's not a charge that your position is irrational; it just means that you need to find a better argument to justify it. Since you came here making definitive claims based on disputed scholarly claims (like the claim that St. Irenaeus's use of "two realities" meant that the Eucharist was both truly bread/wine and truly Body/Blood), you can hardly blame people for casting your methodology into doubt. In this case, we think that your adherence to these conclusions belies a hyper-skepticism about Catholic claims (as evidenced by your disregard for non-Lutheran and even Lutheran scholarship that has come to different conclusions), and James is simply pointing out that such hyper-skepticism (disregarding claims from the opposing position wihout good reason) is not really an argument, since even people without a good argument (e.g., JWs) can use it.

He does because he unwittingly interprets the scriptures through the prism of Church tradition. I can produce you a dozen bright JWs and 4 dozen former JWs who honestly cannot start to see the Trinity in scripture. I was one of them.

What was that that Dave said? Oh yeah, ""But the fact that someone doesn't recognize what is, in fact a truth, is no disproof of that truth."

I agree with Dave. That's why for me it wasn't just a matter of self-evident facts since the facts were heavily dependent on a number of underlying theories which greatly colored their nature.

I simply expressed why I reject the Protestant model of "sola scriptura." It can (and does) lead to a hodgepodge of contradictory notions with no concrete means of resolving said contraditions. Each Christian becomes the measure of truth. I know I'm not up to that task.

James, I am sincerely very happy that you got out the JW's. You're infinitely better off in the Catholic Church.

Thank you for your kind words, CPA. I really appreciate them. The Journey to Rome took me nine years of study. I also spent four years in Protestant fellowships of varying stripes. Those four years were very dear to me and contributed much to my Christian formation.

Peace,

James:)

* * *

Jonathan, I don't think I was being uncharitable. He thinks my position can be reduced to absurdity;

Obviously you didn't "listen" to what Jonathan was trying to "say." It's not your overall position which James critiques above, but this particular argument for it. He described exactly what he disagreed with: "these kind of corruption arguments, and patristic proof-texting on an individualistic basis."

I believe it cannot be and I stated that. Perhaps I sounded as if I didn't really have much respect for his argument, but that is of course because he doesn't have much respect for mine.

Be that as it may, the argument needs to proceed based on rational defenses of each party's position, not meta-analyses of how much one's opponent respects one's position, and replies that miss the point of the opposing argument in the first place.

Not my point. You also characterized his argument in a way that wasn't accurate. I couldn't care less whether you respect his argument; there's no cause to misrepresent it. And had you kept the principle of charity in mind, I doubt that you would have misinterpreted it.

As for the argument about Irenaeus, i.e. my "claim that St. Irenaeus's use of 'two realities' meant that the Eucharist was both truly bread/wine and truly Body/Blood" Dave Armstrong has not yet (to my knowledge) presented a shred of evidence to contradict that.

Sure he has. He brought forth Pelikan's argument that supposing that one can determine from St. Irenaeus's words between a transformationist or consubstantiationist position is anachronistic. You are arguing that Irenaeus leans toward Lutheranism; others argue to the contrary.

Whatever the case, neither have you provided any "shred of evidence" to contradict my interpretation or suggested possibilities. My opinion is that: 1) his language is sufficiently ambiguous to allow different interpretations (which is why they exist in fact, and why these passages are so disputed by scholars), or 2) his language might possibly be consistent with later, more developed doctrine, or 3) he comes too early in Church history and the development of eucharistic theology, for us to be able to state with certainty what his particular position was (Pelikan's argument). Another possibility is that he could have simply been wrong on this point.

What he has done (by citing Jaroslav Pelikan) is simply assert that many scholars believe that Irenaeus's view can be understood within a "development of doctrine" perspective to be a primitive, unformed version of current Roman Catholic doctrine.

I don't want to quibble with the details of Pelikan's argument (people can read it above, without our extraneous commentaries), but suffice it to say that the Pelikan citation demonstrates that my view is just as feasible (if not much more so) than yours. And it comes from a non-Catholic scholar, thus eliminating charges of partisan polemics and bias.

He has also added the fact that Irenaeus used sacrifice language that could be "developed" (as Cyprian did) in ways that anticipate features of Roman Catholic doctrine that Lutherans object to.

This is a great exaggeration (and distortion). What was shown (and much more in the Fathers could be shown, believe me) was that the doctrine of the Sacrifice of the Mass was already fully in place and more or less fully-developed very early on. Therefore, it is inaccurate to characterize the situation with all your wishful qualifiers: "could be," "in ways," that "anticipate" Catholic distinctives, etc. This is yet another area where Lutheran appeal to the Fathers falls flat. And that was my argument: "okay, even granting for the sake of argument that you have a better case concerning transubstantiation in the ante-Nicene fathers [which I don't grant, because it is largely a non sequitur to do such analyses], you still have to explain the (for Lutherans and other Protestants) "disturbing" widespread, virtually universal patristic and early liturgical acceptance of eucharistic adoration and belief in the Sacrifice of the Mass.

Of course, you can do no such thing, so you chose to merely play games with qualifying words, in a futile effort to minimize the devastating impact of such facts on your position (which becomes more ahistorical all the time, once more facts are presented, to the point where you are almost forced to adopt a solo Scriptura position which is not in line with the original position of Luther and Calvin, and the "magisterial Reformation" of which you claim to be a part, as a Lutheran today.

In both cases, he may well be right; sure it can be so seen, if one is a priori convinced that Irenaeus as a canonized church father must have taught a form (however undeveloped) of current Roman Catholic doctrine.

It can be so seen regardless of whether one is convinced or not. That's the point. You have an opinion, and scholars you cite have an opinion. But lots of other people have different opinions, which is why you go astray here….

Now you resort to gross caricatures of the Catholic position. First of all, it has nothing to do with believing something about Irenaeus' position "a priori." As Catholics, we are not required to believe anything at all about Irenaeus' position, or that of any other Church Father. We are only bound to believe that there was a patristic consensus on various doctrinal matters (which allows of many exceptions). Individual Fathers are not regarded as infallible. We can follow the facts wherever they go.

So I'm simply approaching him as best I can, in order to determine what he taught on this matter. My Catholic bias is no more objectionable than your (or Pelikan's) Lutheran bias. This is an unworthy attempt to make the argument about supposed "Roman hyper-dogmatism and blind faith (fideism)" rather than about the facts at hand, and a reasonable interpretation of them from an historiographical perspective. But this is, sadly, what Protestants often do when confronted with historical facts that are not congenial to their position. They immediately switch the topic to: "but Rome is this, that, and the other, and it is a terribly unreasonable [and, often, unChristian] thing to accept that position because of a, b, c, d, e, f, ad infinitum . . . " And so we are led far afield.

We wouldn't be here if your argument had been a slam dunk against either my argument or the alleged "Catholic position" on Irenaeus (which doesn't exist in the first place, because he could be wrong on this point, just as the Church decided that Augustine was wrong on some aspects of predestination, and Aquinas wrong about the Immaculate Conception, etc.).

Taken by itself, however, in the context of the texts we know of from that time, that is not the most natural way to understand his words as we have them,

So say you. But this is a matter for patristic scholars and other Church historians, not apologists and professors of Mongolian Studies. That's why I freely deferred to scholars, because I admitted that I was not qualified to authoritative;y interpret Irenaeus. So I wqent to Jaroslav Pelikan, a Lutheran (when he wrote the book I cited) and one of the most respected Church historians. He can speak with authority on ths issue. And he agreed with my argument, which is why you felt compelled [below] to go after him and minimize the demolishing effect on your argument, of his words.

and you have presented no exegetical arguments whatsoever to convince me that it is.

For crying out loud: we're talking about what Irenaeus believed about the Eucharist a purely historical question, of fact), not what exegetical arguments can be produced for either side (which is exegesis and apologetics: completely different endeavors and questions).

You have demonstrated no knowledge of the subject matter to convince me that you would be competent to judge what is and isn't the "most natural way to understand his world." It is not I who is making grandiose claims about the plausibility of his own views without even citing scholars or showing any reasonable familiarity with the literature. You actually asserted that William Jurgens, a well-known patristics scholar who actually translated patristic works from the original languages, just happened to miss what you appear to be calling an obvious passage in St. Irenaeus. I hope you'll excuse me for not being impressed by your speculations on the "most natural meaning" of his works or by your demands for a response.

So I don't think I am being hyper-skeptical.

That may be. But you are definitely being hyper-unreasonable, as I am showing, and as Jonathan and James are also demonstrating.

You certainly haven't done anything to show otherwise.

I don't think any newcomer to this controversy, presented with Irenaeus's words in context and with all the Scriptures and his contemporary Christian writers like Justin Martyr but nothing after his time would conclude that Irenaeus teaches anything like transubstantiation.

Of course not, because he comes too early in history to be relevant to that discussion (as Pelikan asserted; and I wholeheartedly agree with him).

Real Presence, yes; Christ's true body and blood, certainly. But not transubstantiation. Which is not to say that they could not be "developed" in that direction. But "developed" and "is" are two different things.

Conversely, Irenaeus doesn't teach anything like two coexisting natures either. Presumably, then, the later interpretation of his teachings (that "development" that you revile so much) would probably give us a decent picture of how his teachings were understood at the time and help us decide between the two. In that respect, you are absolutely destroyed by your own admission, and the best defense you can come up with is your unjustified opinion that we should ignore that history because your interpretation is the "most natural." And we Catholics are supposed to be the ones accepting things based on blind fideism?

As has been said,

By whom?

all questions in Roman Catholic theology ultimately come back to the church.

And all questions in Lutheran theology supposedly come back to the Bible. But in fact, you have your traditions and prior denominational biases which have a profound effect on your biblical exegesis and hermeneutic, and on your view of Church history. All parties have to establish their positions based on Scripture, history, and reason. Or you can opt for ahistoricism. It is increasingly clear that this is what you are doing, in desperation. And in this you actually follow Luther and Melanchthon. I dealt with this topic to some extent in a paper of mine: "The Ambiguous Relationship of Luther and the Early Protestants to St. Augustine." Luther and Melanchthon were trying to retain an ostensible appeal to Augustine, while no longer believing that he supported their position. Thus. Philip Melanchthon, in his letter to Johann Brenz in May 1531, wrote:

Avert your eyes from such a regeneration of man and from the Law and look only to the promises and to Christ . . . Augustine is not in agreement with the doctrine of Paul, though he comes nearer to it than do the Schoolmen. I quote Augustine as in entire agreement, although he does not sufficiently explain the righteousness of faith; this I do because of public opinion concerning him.
(see documentation in the above paper)
This letter had the Luther's approval. He even added a few words to it. I wrote in that paper:
[W]e find in Luther's Table-Talk the following slams against St. Augustine and the Fathers:
Behold what great darkness is in the books of the Fathers concerning faith . . . Augustine wrote nothing to the purpose concerning faith. (DXXVI)

The more I read the books of the Fathers, the more I find myself offended. (DXXX)

Jerome should not be numbered among the teachers of the church, for he was a heretic. (DXXXV)

(edition translated by William Hazlitt, Philadelphia: Lutheran Publication Society, n.d., 286-289)

I don't see anything in any of the above that would disabuse me or any Catholic from the notion that the Protestants departed from the Fathers to a great extent, particularly from St. Augustine.

. . . I looked up every single reference to St. Augustine in my copy of the Book of Concord (the doctrinal standard for Lutheranism). Without exception it claims that Augustine is in full agreement with Lutheran doctrine. Furthermore, it makes outright false factual claims, such as that Augustine denied ex opere operato (the notion that the sacraments have inherent power apart from the dispenser or recipient), purgatory, and (though not completely clear), baptismal regeneration. These are all erroneous judgments.

. . . Does this mean that the Book of Concord and Philip Melanchthon (its primary author) were deliberately dishonest, and rascally scoundrels? I would not make that claim, and I don't think so. Much more likely is that their Protestant and anti-Roman biases simply blinded them to certain facts and thus led to inaccuracies. Or they did inadequate research (there was no Internet in those days which gives someone like myself an ability to come up with relevant materials lightning-fast).

But whatever is true regarding their motives and intentions, the fact of erroneous presentation of St. Augustine as in entire agreement with Protestant distinctives is indisputable.

. . . The claim of my earlier paper was simply: "the Protestants had departed from patristic precedent." That is certainly an unarguable statement as it stands (people like McGrath and Oberman and Pelikan and Kelly establish it beyond all doubt -- even Norman Geisler, when he admits that imputed justification was unknown from the time of Paul to that of Luther). I said nothing about dishonesty -- let alone deliberate dishonesty.

So it proves again.

It does? I haven't appealed to authoritative Catholic Church pronouncements at all in my argument. But it's a convenient club, isn't it? It attempts to divert the discussion to irrelevant issues about supposed Catholic views of authority (that you clearly poorly comprehend in the first place).

Dave Armstrong’s arguments add up to saying (over and over again), the Roman Catholic church teaching is a package deal. Anyone who does not accept all the Roman Catholic church currently teaches (from the Trinity to transubtantiation to the least jot and tittle of doctrine) has no right to appeal to any writer in the Christian tradition before the Reformation.

I've never argued this (nor does my apologetic "add up" to it)! Why don't you actually document it, if you think I am making this claim? The present discussion proves this, because I refused to make a definitive claim about St. Irenaeus' views one way or the other. I wrote: "I can't debate further Justin Martyr's and Irenaeus' views. That would be for scholars." You're the one waxing dogmatically about it, acting (contra the relevant patristic scholars' opinions) like it is all so "clear" and "natural."

Why? Because the tradition is reliably founded ONLY on the authority of the Roman church.

That's sheer nonsense. The Tradition (like Scripture) is what it is. Catholics can appeal to it and substantiate their claims and beliefs by demonstrating through historical analysis that the Tradition was in fact a certain thing. All this is, is a more sophisticated, historiographical application of patristic method. The Fathers (like St. Paul) appealed to "what was received, and what has always been believed." The task of anyone seeking to defend one view over another, is to show what in fact was believed. Church authority certainly playes a key, crucial role in that effort, but the belief is not "founded ONLY" on that authority. This is gross caricature and shows again that you try to speak authoritatively on that which you know little of. I suggest that you learn a great deal more about Catholicism before you make such sweeping statements. You're only setting yourself up for a fall.

Any attempt to deny the authority of that Roman Catholic church and test these traditions through Scripture casts all doctrines in doubt. Well, that’s your argument.

It is? That's news to me! Again, I challenge you to document where I have ever made such a ludicrous argument. To the contrary, I have devoted my life and life's work to apologetics, with a high emphasis on biblical arguments in favor of Catholicism. Look at the name of my website. Look at the titles of my three published books, for heaven's sake:

A Biblical Defense of Catholicism

More Biblical Evidence for Catholicism

The Catholic Verses: 95 Bible Passages That Confound Protestants

Yet you want to come along and ridiculously claim that my supposed "argument" is to oppose testing "traditions through Scripture"? I've seen some amazing analyses of my work and supposed opinions, but this is definitely up there near the top, in terms of asserting things about my opinions that are literally the extreme opposite of the truth.

I’ve heard it many, many times before, and I don’t buy it.

Yeah, neither do I. It's nice to agree once in a while, isn't it?

I don’t buy it 1) because it assumes that nothing Scripture teaches can be reliably established apart from the Church.

I agree.

If you think I’m being too harsh in calling your doctrine of Scripture nihilistic,

How can you be "harsh" in describing my alleged "doctrine of Scripture", seeing that you don't even know what it is in the first place? One must first know the opponents' position before proceeding to criticize it. Straw men don't advance the discussion one bit.

then tell me: what revealed doctrine will you admit can be reliably established by Scripture apart from the authority of the Roman Catholic church?

The Holy Trinity, sola gratia, baptismal regeneration, purgatory, heaven, hell, universal atonement, Jesus' sacrifice on our behalf, the Real Presence, angelology, episcopacy, the deity of Christ, the Second Coming, judgment, the various attributes of God, the Incarnation, the soul, the Fall and original sin, all the ethical admonitions, etc., etc. Need any more? Of course, Church authority serves a crucial role in a practical sense: it can authoritatively declare some doctrinal truth which has been disputed, and so settle the matter.

But in so doing, it is adding nothing to what was not already in the Scripture and apostolic tradition. The Church did precisely this with regard to the canon of Scripture. Scripture is what it was, independently of the Church (as Vatican I and Vatican II both state). The Church only reinforced and made dogma what was already in existence (inspired Scripture), and self-attesting to a very great degree (but alas, not enough to cause all me to agree apart from a definitive pronouncement).

Is there any revealed doctrine of faith or morals which you will forego threatening Protestants with losing if they reject the authority of the Roman Catholic church and rely only on Scripture?

I don't have to make wild claims. The history of Protestantism, with all its problems of theological relativism, sectarian chaos, and theological liberalism, is its own disproof. Nor are denominationalism or competing theological claims biblical at all. St. Paul repeatedly talks about this, and even warns us to avoid those who cause division and strife.

And I don’t buy it because 2) it assumes that continuity of truth in God’s people must be from an authoritative and visible head correct in all his teachings.

What better way is there to preserve truth without the result being thousands of competing. contradictory denominations? You tell me. At least we have a sensible plan of establishing unity. And we do so without forsaking truth, because we can support all our views from the Bible, history, and reason.

Otherwise as you believe “we are on our own” (with no Holy Spirit at all, no chance of right guidance, etc.) No we are not on our own, even if erroneous teaching has been quite prevalent in many times and places. As Luther explained, the history of the church is much like that of Israel. There was continuity in the Israelite ‘church,’ in which the kings and high priests weren’t always right, but in which God was still at work from the time of Moses until His purpose in Christ was accomplished. Even in the worst times he reserved 7,000 knees that had not kneeled to Baal. As Paul teaches, the church is ‘the pillar and ground of the truth’ even though the ‘mystery of iniquity’ was already active in her.

What is the Church today then? The LCMS and WELS and maybe two or three other Lutherans here and there?

And I don’t buy it because 3) I see the Roman Catholic church’s teaching too obviously changing. Let’s just take the Lord’s Supper. Was the “development of doctrine” leading up to communion in one kind?

No, that would be the Bible, before any development in Church history occurred at all. In 1 Corinthians 11:27, Paul says that "Whoever, therefore, eats the bread OR drinks the cup of the Lord will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord." Note that in partaking of EITHER one, the participant profanes BOTH the Body and Blood of Christ. The reason for that is simple: both the consecrated wafer and wine contain the whole Body and Blood of Jesus, because they can't be separated, and exist entire wherever they exist.

Then what led away from it?

As a practical matter, it was not as troublesome to avoid giving the cup to all partkaers of communion. Since the Body and Blood are in both consecrated elements, it's not required to take both in order to receive Jesus.

Was the “development of doctrine” demand that the words of institution be stated in any valid Eucharist? Then why has the Vatican accepted the validity of the Eucharist of the Assyrian Church of the East whose liturgy does not contain those words?

Because the Vatican accepts other notions of consecration, including that of Eastern Catholic Churches, the Orthodox, etc.

(We can ask the same about Vatican changes in doctrine with respect to the confessional state, the death penalty, higher criticism, salvation of Protestants, Hindus, and others outside the church, and so on.)

Oh, there are all sorts of issues to discuss. I thought we were discussing what St. Irenaeus and other ante-Nicene Fathers thought about the Eucharist? Why are we onto all this other stuff now? So you can get in your parting shot before leaving the discussion entirely unresolved?

And if some inherent “development of doctrine” led to Corpus Christi processions and private masses then why did they not “develop” in the same way in the Orthodox East?

Because of various different approaches to the Eucharist between East and West. But there is far more agreement than disagreement. If Jesus is really there (as I keep saying in all these recent dialogues), then He is to be worshiped and adored. It's not rocket science. The complicated stuff comes in deciding how the transformation of the elements occurs.

“Development of doctrine” means simply, “whatever the Roman Catholic church teaches today is right.”

Sheer nonsense. It has its own internal criteria (based largely upon St. Vincent of Lerins) that doesn't depend upon Catholic distinctives, but upon a sensible interpretation of the history of Christian doctrine, and an application of all the resources of historiographical research. That's precisely why I could cite Pelikan in entire agreement, even though he was a Lutheran then and an Orthodox now. It clearly doesn't depend on the Catholic Church.

If I believed the claims of the Roman church, I guess that would sound plausible and wise. But I don’t, so it doesn’t.

I would suggest again that you seek to understand what it is you "object" to, because you can hardly reasonably "object" to something when you don't comprehend what it is in the first place, and insist on creating caricatures and straw men and then "disagreeing" with what you mistakenly think is "development" and "Catholicism."

It seems the only thing new you have introduced into the debate is yet another citation from a secondary source which I as a Lutheran am “supposed” to accept

When did I ever assert that you were "supposed" to accept it? Nice try (it gets tiring noting all these distortions of my arguments, but I would rather get weary clarifying, than look as foolish as you do now by needlessly making this same mistake over and over). I simply cited the man (a non-Catholic, scholarly source) in support of my historical argument. It would be nice to continue the discussion on that plane, but as we see, you have diverted it into bombastic, inaccurate proclamations about Catholicism. I am decidedly unimpressed; especially seeing that you are a scholar and hence, should know better. If you are undereducated about something, please don't go on and on posing as an expert on it, over against an apologist (your dialogical opponent) who does know a little bit about that which he defends.

(although really, the fact that he later deserted the faith would hardly be a recommendation!)

His scholarly credentials exist independent of religious affiliation. This causes some degree of bias, of course, but then, that only strengthens my case, since I cited him in support of my arguments, and he had a Lutheran bias when he wrote. You can dismiss him because he later became Orthodox, if you wish, but that doesn't advance the historical counter-argument one whit (being a species of the ad hominem fallacy), and it still remains true that he is a strong witness for my position, whether Lutheran or Orthodox (because neither is Catholic), and let's not forget your ludicrous claim that these beliefs rest almost entirely on sheer Catholic dogmatism and little else. They do not, and Pelikan's example (I could also cite the Protestant historian Philip Schaff and many others) prove that.

Prof. Pelikan is a very learned man, far more than me in his field, but even learned men can err.

But it is not for men not learned in the field (yourself) to make that determination, but other scholars, who actually put up some relevant arguments.

And from your quotations it seems that he has a will, not uncommon among historians, to find continuity at all odds, and ignore the radical difference between the beginning of the development and the picture at the end.

I've asked you to explain why you think these exist, but as of yet, you have declined my challenge.

. . . The only thing factual Prof. Pelikan added in your quotation is the fact that yes, Irenaeus uses sacrificial language to refer to the Eucharist (although not of course the actual dogma of the Supper being a sacrifice by the priest, since he says this was first explicitly stated by Cyprian–and it is that doctrine to which we Lutherans object.)

Hey! Was that actually an argument which is remotely on-topic???!!

The bottom line is again, no distinctive of the Roman Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist can be found in explicit statement before Cyprian, most of it cannot be found before mid-fourth century, and much of it cannot be found before the ninth, or much later (indeed as debates over the Anaphora in the Assyrian liturgy show, it is still ‘developing’ before our eyes.) Given that fact, I will stick with what the apostles demonstrably taught.

I have already answered this. Your argument doesn't get better by simply stating it again, as if that clinches it. You have to counter-respond to my arguments. You have chosen not to do so. Let the reader be aware of that and draw their own conclusions. I've certainly drawn mine.

But since it’s your blog, I’ll let you have the last word.

I'm not interested in the "last word." As far as I am concerned, the discussion had just begun. Why, then, are you speaking the language of "departure" already?

CPA shows his "ahistoricism" in another recent article on the Lutheran blog where he is a regular contributor:

In Luther’s Bondage of the Will, he had to confront the charge, still endlessly repeated, that however scriptural his doctrine seemed, it was an innovation. "What had the church been doing for the thousand plus years when your teaching was not known? Where is the continuity of the church? Are the fathers all damned for not teaching your doctrine?"

In reply Luther replied that the continuity of the church lay not in the dogmatic and authoritative teaching of the fathers but in Scripture, in baptism and the Lord’s Supper, and in the response of souls to the Gospel promises therein.

(Samuel Johnson, Justification by Faith Alone, and the True Church, 2-11-05)

That's the key of Lutheran ecclesiology: where there is the Gospel promise in word and sacrament (no matter how covered over) and where the promise is believed, there is the church. All else serves to unpack that basic fact.

(Comment, 2-11-05)

I submit that Martin Luther was not as opposed to the witness of authoritative Tradition as CPA makes out (though he often says silly things about eminent Fathers and teachers like St. Thomas Aquinas). Thus, Paul Althaus, in his well-known work, The Theology of Martin Luther (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966, translated by Robert C. Schultz) writes of Luther's opinion:
. . . Luther thankfully received not only biblical substance in the direct sense of the term from the hands of the ancient and medieval church but also elements of ecclesiastical tradition. Not the least of these was the church's custom of baptizing children. Since, in Luther's judgment, it is not expressly commanded in the Holy Scriptures, his opposition to the Anabaptists' rejection of infant baptism gave him an opportunity to express himself basically about the authority of tradition in the church . . . He opposes the spiritualistic interpretation of the Lord's Supper by declaring:
The witness of the entire holy Christian church (even if we had nothing else) should be enough for us to maintain this doctrine and neither to listen to nor tolerate any sectarian objections. For it is a dangerous and terrible thing to hear or believe anything contrary to the common witness, faith, and doctrine which the entire holy Christian church has maintained from the beginning until now -- for more than 1500 years throughout the world. [WA 30 III, 552]
Luther did not, as is obvious, in any sense advocate an absolute biblicism. He did not absolutize the Bible in opposition to tradition. He limits neither Christian dogma nor the ethical implications of the gospel to what is expressly stated in Scripture. He does not demand that the truth of Christianity be reduced to biblical doctrine. The Holy Spirit led not only the apostles but also Christendom since the time of the apostles.

(pp. 334-335)

Of course, Luther still held to sola Scriptura and reserved the right to judge all tradition by Scripture, but uncomfortable facts of history (particularly, in the patristic period) which suggest a consensus other than his own, would at least give Luther pause, whereas in "CPA's case, and that of many other current-day Lutherans and other Protestants, this seems to not cause them much concern at all. They will simply dismiss some instance of the overwhelming witness of the early Church with ease and scorn, and proceed on their merry way, claiming that their doctrines are eminently "biblical," etc.

Noted Protestant Church historian Alister McGrath, on the other hand, described the early Protestant view of the Fathers as follows:

[W]e find the reformers appealing to the fathers as generally reliable interpreters of Scripture . . . One of the reasons why the reformers valued the writings of the Fathers, especially Augustine, was that they regarded them as exponents of a biblical theology . . . the reformers were prepared to accept the 'patristic testimony' as generally reliable.

. . . The catholics argued that the reformers elevated private judgement above the corporate judgement of the church. The reformers replied that they were doing nothing of the sort: they were simply restoring that corporate judgement to what it once was, by combating the doctrinal degeneration of the Middle Ages by an appeal to the corporate judgement of the patristic era.

(Reformation Thought: An Introduction, Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 2nd edition, 1993, 145-146)

A clear example of this occurs in the Augsburg Confession of 1530, written by Luther's successor Philip Melanchthon, approved by Luther, and doctrinally binding on Lutherans, as part of the Book of Concord. In the concluding paragraph of the section, "Articles of Faith and Doctrine" / "Chief Articles of Faith," it states:
Since this teaching is grounded clearly on the Holy Scriptures and is not contrary or opposed to that of the universal Christian church, or even of the Roman church (in so far as the latter's teaching is reflected in the writings of the Fathers), we think that our opponents cannot disagree with us in the articles set forth above.

(p. 46 in edition translated and edited by Theodore G. Tappert, in collaboration with Jaroslav Pelikan, Robert H. Fischer, and Arthur C. Piepkorn, St. Louis: Concordia Pub. House / Muhlenberg Press, 1959)


Uploaded on 12 February 2005 by Dave Armstrong.

Agreements and Disagreements With Reformed Protestant Alastair Roberts' Series: "Some Thoughts on Transubstantiation"

Alastair is an ecumenical Reformed Christian, who hosts a very informative blog called alastair.adversaria. He himself asked me if I would like to give my thoughts about this series. It's my pleasure. I look forward to the discussion. Here are the URL's for his papers:

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

I won't respond to absolutely everything (per my usual "custom"), as the series is very long. Rather, I'll respond to portions where we disagree, and also note some areas of heartening and/or notable or surprising agreement. His words will be in blue.

* * * * *

The following are some (very) unpolished thoughts on some general issues that are raised by the doctrine.

I always feel most inadequate as well, when dealing with this topic, so we are very much alike in that regard. I'll try to do my best in the time that I have to respond to your paper.

I have decided against engaging in detailed analysis of any one particular defence of the doctrine due to the sheer number of such defences. It seems as if no two defenders of transubstantiation understand it in quite the same way. In addition to this there is quite a gulf between some of the more moderate scholarly arguments for transubstantiation and the beliefs of average Roman Catholics.

I can only speak for my position, which is the orthodox Catholic one. There is more than one way to defend the orthodox doctrine, without implying that there are variants of it. I don't know if by "moderate" you mean what I would classify as "liberal" or "heterodox", or what you understand to be "the beliefs of average Roman Catholics." Surveys show that 70-80% of Catholics deny the Real Presence, let alone transubstantiation.

I, of course, disagree with them because they don't accept Church teaching on the matter. In any event, one must critique doctrines held by Christian communions. Scholars' opinions can either coincide or differ from those. I really don't care all that much what "Catholic scholars" who are that in name only, but not in substance, teach, anymore than I would care about the opinions of some process theologian falsely purporting to represent Reformed Protestant theology. Both theologies are what they are, and must be approached as such.

Giving thoughts on transubstantiation in such a manner is dangerous. The Reformed tradition has a long history of misrepresenting Roman Catholic Eucharistic theology. Whether it is on the subject of Eucharistic sacrifice . . . or transubstantiation, Protestants have tended to present a grossly distorted view of the Roman Catholic doctrine. If you want to engage with transubstantiation rather than a straw man, you are probably best avoiding the treatments of transubstantiation that are to be found in Reformed books of systematic theology.

All very true. This goes right back (unfortunately for almost all subsequent Reformed-Catholic discussion) to John Calvin himself. I commend you for your willingness to advance beyond the traditional polemics.

The following thoughts are chiefly concerned with many of the popular forms of the doctrine of transubstantiation that one will find online or on the street.

I don't see how that is relevant to a fruitful inter-communion dialogue myself, but, different strokes . . . I'm only interested (as a Catholic apologist) in responding to your comments on what I understand to be orthodox Catholic eucharistic theology.

. . . some might claim that I myself hold to transubstantiation of a kind (others might claim that I hold to a form of transignification). The claim would not be without warrant, although I see my position more as a variation on Calvin, than as a variation on Aquinas. I could quite happily subscribe to moderate forms of the doctrines of transubstantiation and Eucharistic sacrifice; . . . Nevertheless, I would be reluctant to use the term ‘transubstantiation’ of the position that I hold, recognizing the potential for misunderstanding. Besides, it seems to me that the term ‘transubstantiation’ has been used to describe so many varying positions by defenders and critics that it is more than a little threadbare by now; I would prefer to dress my doctrine in smarter terminological attire.

I'll have to see what you believe as we proceed.

. . . I would be interested to hear other people’s opinions.

Glad to oblige. Thanks for writing a very serious paper which can provide food for thought and discussion.

Defenders of the doctrine of transubstantiation often presuppose a clear distinction between symbol and reality. Evangelicals are generally no less guilty on this point than are Roman Catholics. Both presume that if something is symbolic it cannot truly be real and, if it is real, it cannot truly be symbolic. Setting symbols outside of the realm of reality and reality outside of the realm of symbols is something that consistently takes place in both Roman Catholic and evangelical circles. One party says that the bread and wine are truly and really the body and blood of Jesus Christ; the other party says, no, they are just symbols of the body and blood of Jesus.

. . . Roman Catholics . . . think that somehow we need to get behind the matrix of symbols in which we find ourselves in order to encounter the ‘reality’. The symbol cannot communicate reality. In the doctrine of transubstantiation a discontinuity between the symbol and the reality is affirmed. At some point in the celebration of the Eucharist the symbol is annihilated and replaced with the reality. Symbol and reality are not seen to indwell each other and constitute each other, rather the realm of reality lies ‘outside’ or ‘behind’ the realm of symbols. Somehow we must escape from symbols in order to encounter the reality.

Catholics don't have to make this dichotomous choice. We must believe that the Eucharist is real, but we also regard it as a sign or symbol as well, just as St. Augustine did. I've written about exactly this false dichotomy in my paper, St. Augustine's Belief in the Real Presence.

What we need to appreciate is that reality dwells in the realm of symbols and symbols dwell in the realm of reality. Symbols and reality depend upon each other for existence.

I agree. In my paper just-mentioned, I wrote:

I claimed [as a Protestant] that St. Augustine . . . adopted a symbolic view of the Eucharist. I based this on his oft-stated notion of the sacrament as symbol or sign. I failed to realize, however, that I was arbitrarily creating a false, logically unnecessary dichotomy between the sign and the reality of the Eucharist, for St. Augustine -- when all his remarks on the subject are taken into account -- clearly accepted the Real Presence. The Eucharist -- for Augustine, and objectively speaking -- is both sign and reality. There simply is no contradiction.

A cursory glance at Scripture confirms this general principle. For instance, Jesus refers to the sign of Jonah, comparing the prophet Jonah's three days and nights in the belly of the fish to His own burial in the earth (Mt 12:38-40). In this case, both events, although described as signs, were quite real indeed. Jesus also uses the terminology of sign in connection with His Second Coming (Mt 24:30-31), which is believed by all Christians to be a literal event, and not symbolic only.

. . . St. Augustine's symbolic language can be synthesized with his "realistic" language, because realism can co-exist with symbol while retaining its realism . . . symbolic language can also (and indeed often does in Augustine) refer to other, more communal aspects of the Eucharist which complement (but are not contrary to) the "Real Presence" aspect of it.

. . . The simple fact of the matter is that Augustine speaks in both ways. But we can harmonize them as complementary, not contradictory, because Catholics, like Augustine himself, tend to think in terms of "both/and" rather than the dichotomous "either/or" prevalent in Protestantism. Thus, when some Augustinian symbolic Eucharistic utterance is found, it is seized upon as "proof" that he thereby denied the Real Presence.

This is neither logically compelling, nor scholarly, since there are many of his statements which clearly indicate that he held to the literal, Real physical Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, and the Sacrifice of the Mass, and the priesthood, which makes no sense

In Scripture, however, signs and symbols are not seen to get in the way of immediate relationship, because there is no relationship apart from signs and symbols. Just as the reality of my friendship with someone is inseparable from such things as shaking hands with them so our relationship with God is inseparable from such things as the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. The Lord’s Supper does not merely teach us about our relationship with God; it actually serves to constitute and sustain our relationship with Him. Many evangelicals have thought that Baptism and the Lord’s Supper are somehow superfluous to requirements and we can happily live the Christian life without them.

However, just as hugs and kisses are not made redundant by words, as they do and convey far more than bare words could, so the Lord’s Supper and Baptism are not made redundant by the preached Word. They are necessary if we are to truly enjoy a full relationship with God. The preached Word brings us into and sustains our relationship with Christ on some levels that the sacraments do not. The sacraments also bring us into and sustain our relationship with Christ on a level that the Word alone cannot. They are not just didactic signs of a relationship with Christ that exists independently of them.

Excellent . . . well-stated!

What I am arguing for here is a mediating position between those who say ‘reality, not symbol’ of our feeding on Christ in the Supper and those who say ‘symbol, not reality’. The reality and the symbols are inseparable.

Since that is the Catholic position, rightly-understood, we are in agreement so far (before we get to details where we will disagree).

The sacraments are not to be severed from the network of signs and symbols that we inhabit. Although I do speak about ‘the sacraments’, I see the sacraments as revelatory of the sacramental character of creation as a whole and not closed off from the rest of creation.

I wholeheartedly agree again. The whole idea of sacramentology can be summed up as: "matter can convey grace." That can in turn be paraphrased as "nature (including sensory data) can and does convey grace." Put that way, obviously a nature vs. grace dichotomy is precluded. It would seem that the Incarnation would have put that false dichotomy to rest in the first place (which is why we see the Eucharist as an "extension" of the Incarnation).

To summarize: the problem with many forms of transubstantiation is that they do not pay enough attention to the intrinsic relationship between symbol and reality. Through the symbol we participate in the reality. Both evangelicals and Roman Catholics are not very good on this point.

In practice, no, they're not. But both dogmatic and mystical Catholic eucharistic theology understand this perfectly well.

The severing of ‘form’ and ‘essence’ in the Sacrament is something that needs to be criticized. Once the form/essence dichotomy has been presupposed, the liturgical form can be tinkered with far more readily. The sacrament and its liturgical form becomes — at best — a ‘means of grace’, rather than being gracious itself. The language of ‘means of grace’ suggests that some form of generic grace exists outside of and apart from such ‘means of grace’, which merely serve as channels to bring this grace to us. It is best avoided for this reason.

I don't follow your reasoning here. If matter can convey grace, then it (in the sacrament) is being used as a channel or medium for that purpose, precisely as you disagree with above. Scripture indicates that grace (in one definition of it, anyway) is a thing which can be "distributed," if you will, by God. Thus, linguist W.E. Vine wrote:

. . . in another objective sense, the effect of grace, the spiritual state of those who have experienced its exercise, whether (1) a state of grace, e.g., Rom. 5:2; 1 Pet. 5:12; 2 Pet. 3:18, or (2) a proof thereof in practical effects, deeds of grace, e.g., 1 Cor. 16:3 . . .; 2 Cor. 8:6,19 . . . the power and equipment for ministry, e.g., Rom. 1:5; 12:6; 15:15; 1 Cor. 3:10; Gal. 2:9; Eph. 3:2,7 . . .

(An Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words, Old Tappan, NJ: Fleming H. Revell Co., 1940, vol. 2, 170, "Grace" / "Charis")

Many biblical instances of sacramental occurrences had nothing to do with the divinely-instituted symbology of the Last Supper / Eucharist, but illustrate and confirm this understanding of matter conveying grace: Elisha's bones causing a man to be raised from the dead (2 Ki 13:20-21), Paul's handkerchief (Acts 19:11-12) and Peter's shadow (Acts 5:15-16) healing people, and Elijah's mantle causing the Jordan River to part (2 Ki 2:11-14). These also constitute excellent, explicit biblical evidence for relics. Very un-Protestant, yet very biblical . . .

The relationship between the liturgical form and the essence of the sacrament (i.e. the grace that the sacrament symbolizes) is variously understood. For many Roman Catholics the symbolic liturgical form somehow causes the reality.

It is reasonable to believe that the miracle occurs at some point in the liturgy performed by an ordained priest (ordination itself being a sacrament). Catholics place this at the words of consecration.

For evangelicals the liturgical form illustrates or represents the reality.

Unless Jesus' Body, Soul, Blood, and Divinity is present in the eucharistic miracle, then we Catholics say it is not a "real" presence. We regard that as a watered-down usage of the term.

If the Eucharistic liturgy merely serves as the ornamentation and condition of validity of the miracle of transubstantiation that lies at the heart of the celebration, the result is a great discontinuity in the celebration. The miracle of transubstantiation is an invasion from outside, rather than a revelation from within the ceremony (a nature/grace dichotomy is clearly also at work here).

Jesus can "invade" my worship anytime He likes. This is the sort of "invasion" I will surrender to every time. Since the Incarnation was a similar miracle (God "invading" the human race by becoming a man), and this brought matter and grace together, I see nothing objectionable in this at all.

Eucharistic theology all too easily becomes geared to isolating the various elements (or conditions of validity) within the liturgy that serve to cause the miracle of transubstantiation. In opposition to this approach, I believe that the Eucharist should be seen as one event with a number of interdependent elements. Those who view the Eucharist as a series of independent actions that serves to cause the miracle of transubstantiation risk turning the Supper into some form of religious fix that is received by mechanistically following some prescribed ritual. By atomizing worship, separating it into lots of discrete actions, we will end up facing unhelpful questions.

This boils down basically to the old objection that the Mass is a form of magic, with the priest uttering mysteriously powerful words to make happen what Catholics believe happens. In fact, the term hocus pocus came from the Latin words of consecration: hoc est enim corpus ("this is My Body"). But the Mass is not "magic" at all. Magic (in the occultic, not entertainment, sleight-of-hand sense) means that the person performing the magic has an intrinsic power to perform something in and of himself.

But in the Mass, the priest is merely an alter Christus. He is representing the person of Jesus at the Last Supper, following the words that He taught us to say (encapsulated in a worship and liturgical ritual known as the Mass). It is Jesus Who is performing the eucharistic miracle. The priest is merely a channel. God causes the miracle to occur, not mere words (just as God's grace causes a conversion; not the words of the repentant sinner; citing John 3:16 or some kind of "sinner's prayer").

The words of consecration (repeating our Lord's words at the Last Supper) merely give a particular time when the faithful know that the miracle has occurred. After all, if one believes in a substantial presence of Jesus at some point during the liturgy, then it is altogether reasonable to posit at which point the miracle occurs (so the worshipers can worship Jesus as substantially present; hence we bow our heads at the consecration because Jesus is truly, substantially there).

We will begin to wonder what ‘extra’ thing each element of worship gives us. If the celebration of the Eucharist is seen as self-contained and independent of the other elements of the church’s corporate worship, people will begin to wonder what it is that the Eucharist gives us that the preaching of the Word or corporate prayer does not give us.

The Person of Jesus Christ! I would say that He is not only an "extra element" of worship, but the very reason why worship is taking place at all.

However, if the Eucharist is perceived to be an integral part of a complete service of covenant renewal, such questions will not bother us in the same way. The Word, Baptism and the Eucharist all serve to save us. However, they were not designed to save us in abstraction from each other. They are all interdependent.

Of course. But how that has any bearing on the present subject, I know not.

Many evangelicals have the idea that Baptism and the Supper are somehow surplus to requirements and that the preached Word is all that we need. They are quite wrong.

And they are wrong because Scripture explicitly ties both to salvation.

However, those who believe that Baptism or the Eucharist somehow give us some saving blessing that comes independently of the preached Word (as some ‘added extra’, for example) are equally wrong. The preached Word, Baptism and the Eucharist all work together.

That's why the Mass consists of the liturgy of the Word in its first part. We also sometimes begin the Mass by having water sprinkled on us; reminding us of our baptism and its saving power as well).

If our corporate worship has the Word, but does not conclude with a celebration of the Eucharist, the Word has not achieved its purpose. If we celebrate the Eucharist apart from the proclamation of the Word the Eucharist will not achieve its purpose either. They are quite interdependent.

I agree. That's one reason why I am a Catholic. Worship services that include the Holy Eucharist only once a month or even less than that, have separated a crucial part of Christian worship from the liturgy, and placed the Word above the sacramental meaning of worship.

One of the key issues here is the manner in which the elements of bread and wine are regarded. Most Catholics that I have come across understand the elements to be the body and blood of Christ in a manner that holds true even when they are abstracted from the context of the Church’s celebration of the Eucharist. Somehow the bread and the wine have once and for all ceased to be what they once were and have become a different thing entirely.

This being what transubstantiation means: literally, "change of substance" . . .

This is a key area of disagreement. I truly believe that it is the body and blood of Christ that we receive in our eating and drinking, but I could never regard the bread and the wine as the body and blood of Christ outside of the context of the Supper. Within the context provided by this world, the bread remains bread and the wine remains wine. This does not mean that nothing really takes place in the celebration of the Eucharist.

The context in which we partake of the bread and the wine is not the context provided this world; rather, we partake within a context established by the Holy Spirit. Within the context provided by the Church’s Eucharistic celebration the bread really is the body of Christ and the wine really is the blood of Christ. This is not a matter of playing with language. The manner in which the elements are the body and blood of Christ cannot be explained by the categories provided by this world.

Then why are you writing this paper at all, if words cannot explain what you believe, and reason is insufficient?

The bread is the body of Christ and the wine is the blood of Christ only as we exist within the environment of the new world order created by the Holy Spirit.

On what biblical basis (not to mention historical)?

In the celebration of the Supper we feed on the body and drink of the blood of the man Christ Jesus. How exactly this happens is mysterious and defies easy explanation. By claiming that it is the work of the Spirit that makes the Supper what it is, I am not trying to water down the reality of our participation, as if our participation was merely something ‘spiritual’ (as opposed to ‘material’). The work of the Spirit in the Supper is not limited to the region of our minds and emotions.

The Spirit’s work in the Supper does not, I believe, result in ‘leaving behind’ our physical bodies, or the physical elements of bread and wine. Rather the physicality of our bodies and the elements are interpenetrated by the Spirit, who translates them into a place of communion — a foretaste of the renewed creation. The Supper cannot be reduced to the sursum corda.

This is simply not the Real Presence as historically understood. Jesus Christ is truly, substantially, actually present: Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. That's why we believe that the Mass is a Sacrifice, and re-presents the one sacrifice at Calvary on the Cross (transcending time and space, which is part of the miracle). That's why we bow our heads and worship the consecrated host, because we believe it is Jesus Himself under the outward forms of bread and wine.

This "realism" is how St. Paul and the Fathers understood the Eucharist. If one wishes to adopt Calvin's understanding, then I want to know the reason for such a massive change in understanding. Why should I accept Calvin's belief on this if it clashes with unbroken Christian Tradition?

A change really does take place in the celebration of the Supper. This change is not limited to the elements, but includes every part of the celebration, including those who participate. The Spirit translates both us and the elements into the new creation environment of Christ Himself. In this change the bread never ceases to be bread, the wine never ceases to be wine and we never cease to be created human beings. However, in this change the bread, the wine and the celebrating community become something far greater as they become the place of Christ’s peculiar presence.

Then you believe something akin to consubstantiation. It certainly cannot be classified as transubstantiation at all, because it violates the literal meaning of that term.

Christ is received in the sacrament through the work of the Holy Spirit. What we receive is not merely the Holy Spirit in our hearts, nor is it merely the benefits of Christ’s work. What we receive in the Supper is Christ Himself. The Christ that we receive is the incarnate Christ, and not a disincarnate Christ. We eat of His flesh and drink of His blood.

If you really do that, then do you also worship Him on the altar (as you say that you believe He really is there in some way beyond how He is present everywhere at all times)?

There is an implicit Marcionism in the manner in which they relate the sacraments of the NT to those of the OT. If we are going to understand what the Eucharist really means, it will be against the backdrop of the OT rites and narrative (on which subject I recommend Leithart's Blessed Are the Hungry). The doctrine of transubstantiation, with its focus on the change that occurs in the sacramental elements, has produced a sharp discontinuity between the Eucharist and its OT precursors, where no such change is spoken of.

So what? The Incarnation was another great "change" -- so much so that it scandalized the Jews, most of whom rejected Jesus as the Messiah. The Holy Trinity was perceived as a massive "change" and indeed, as gross idolatry and blasphemy by the Jews. Since the Incarnation was so "radical," one would fully expect Christian rituals to be correpondingly different and new, compared to what came before; yet not without aspects of continuity.

Thus, the Mass is based on the Last Supper, which was itself a Passover dinner. The Mass re-presents the Sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross, which itself was the fulfillment of the Old Testament sacrificial system. The Catholic priest fulfills and completes the "type" of the Hebrew priest, offering the Lamb of God, Who is God, to God the Father, rather than mere lambs and other animals.

Far too many doctrines of the Lord’s Supper presuppose a sharp distinction between presence and absence. They presume that either Christ is either present or absent; it is impossible to have both at the same time. The doctrine of transubstantiation often leads to a form of ‘fetishized’ presence, where the manner in which Christ’s presence exceeds and transcends the elements is not adequately treated.

I don't see how. What more is required? We believe the consecrated bread and wine are truly, substantially Jesus: Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. It's not just a word game. It's not just a more "pungent" presence. God is omnipresent, so He is always "here" in that sense; transubstantiation is obviously a different sense of "presence" than that; lest it be entirely superfluous and unnecessary. It reproduces the Incarnation: God became man. God can become equally present in a physical sense in what was once bread and wine. If He can do one thing, the second is no less plausible.

Faith is required, of course, because the appearance will not suggest this. But then, neither did the appearance of Jesus the Man, for many who beheld Him. You couldn't prove that Jesus was God by taking a blood test, or analyzing DNA from a skin sample. Likewise, you can't prove that a consecrated wafer is God.

In particular, the doctrine of the ascension entails a real absence of Christ. The presence of Christ that we speak of in the Supper must be one that permits the words ‘until He comes’ to retain their force. Far too many forms of the doctrine of transubstantiation simply dissolve this eschatological tension in an unbiblical manner.

The biblical language and the doctrine of the Fathers see no such contradiction. It is an insufficiently-established philosophical innovation of Calvin. In my opinion, he dismisses biblical and patristic realism with mere (flawed, fallacious) philosophy and speculation. The burden of proof is on him and his followers to explain to us why we should believe something differently than what the Church always held previously. I dealt with this particular objection at great length, in dialogue with Reformed Christians. Rather than reiterate here, I'll simply refer readers to that discussion: Dialogue on John Calvin's Mystical Eucharist (+ Part II) (vs. "Josh" and Michael S. Horton and John Calvin).

. . . the time between the Ascension and the Second Coming is a time of genuine absence.

According to whom, and what Scripture? How does this preclude transubstantiation? God is omnipotent. It seems to me that you are denying His omnipotence, in saying that there is something He cannot do, which is entirely logically possible for Him to do; namely, become truly, substantially present in the Eucharist. Since it isn't possible to do that without sacrificing the doctrine of omnipotence, I don't see how it is possible for a Christian who accepts that attribute of God to argue in this way.

And what is it based on, anyway? We can come up with all sorts of "logical conundrums" as objections to traditional Christianity. The Jews argue against the Trinity because it is too difficult to understand and accept. So do Jehovah's Witnesses and Unitarians, and The Way International, and Christadelphians and a host of other non-trinitarian heretical sects. With one voice they all denounce the Holy Trinity as unreasonable, nonsensical, and unable to be comprehended or believed.

Now, because transubstantiation is difficult to believe, Calvin and his Reformed followers have also sought to set forth merely philosophical objections, so that they can reject the doctrine. I say that this is (though not intended to do this at all) putting philosophy above faith. Faith requires belief in many things that are difficult to understand. many things in Christian doctrine (things we all agree on) can never be totally proven or demonstrated.

So it comes down to deciding which doctrines are "unreasonable," upon which we concentrate our powers of reason and attitude of skepticism. How does one decide when to do this? It's much more reasonable to accept the traditional faith whole and entire, as received -- passed-down -- from our brothers and sisters in the faith. We don't pick and choose what of that we can accept and which, reject, because that is arbitrary. I would strongly contend that this was how St. Paul viewed the matter.

But Protestants pick and choose and become skeptical of certain things precisely because they have changed the traditional rule of faith and have adopted private judgment and sola Scriptura. They had to do so, otherwise, they would have no good reason to justify their separation from the traditional Church. They had to adopt a different principle of determining which doctrines are true and which are not.

The reality of this passing world is made normative and the presence of Christ in the Eucharist must be explicable within the categories provided by this world.

That's precisely why the medieval theologians largely (but not exclusively) analyzed the Eucharist in terms of the Aristotelian / Scholastic (Thomistic) philosophy then prevalent. We believe it is a miracle, but one which we can grasp to a great extent by applying human rational thinking to it.

Transubstantiation all too easily presumes the validity of the categories of this world to explain what takes place in the Supper. Christ must be brought down to earth again every time the Eucharist is celebrated. This ‘bringing down to earth’ of Christ need not involve any idea of a local presence of Christ (denied by Aquinas and others). All that it needs to involve is Christ’s being subjected to the brokenness of our time and world order once more.

Quite the contrary; this betrays a fundamental understanding of what is believed to occur in the Mass. It's not that Jesus is "brought down" to earth, as if He is subject to human whims and magical formulas or incantations. In the Mass, the Cross is made a present reality. We are "brought up" to God's sublime, timeless level. It is a miracle. It's not "every time such-and-such happens"; rather, it is a transcendence of time; Jesus on the Cross as sacrifice becomes present outside of time, just as God the Father is outside of time. This is part of the great miracle. The Incarnation becomes present as well, just as the Sacrifice on the Cross. Jesus can be present to every worshiper at Mass, just as He was in those 33-or-so years that He lived among us as an historical Person in the land of Israel.

The doctrine of transubstantiation often does not take enough account of the fact that the presence of the risen and ascended Jesus Christ can no longer be accounted for by the categories provided by our cosmologies.

We agree. That's why we believe what we do about the Mass, in relation to space and time. It completely transcends those categories, so great is the miraculous nature of it. Jesus could walk through walls even before He ascended. Now He can become substantially present in what was once bread and wine. If you can believe one thing, it is no difficulty to believe (a priori) the other. Karl Adam, author of the marvelous book The Spirit of Catholicism (translated by Dom Justin McCann, Garden City, NY: Doubleday Image, 1954 [originally 1924 in German], p. 197), remarks upon the transcendent nature of the Mass:

The Sacrifice of Calvary, as a great supra-temporal reality, enters into the immediate present. Space and time are abolished. The same Jesus is here present who died on the Cross. The whole congregation unites itself with His holy sacrificial will, and through Jesus present before it consecrates itself to the heavenly Father as a living oblation. So Holy Mass is a tremendously real experience, the experience of the reality of Golgotha.
One of the great insights in John Calvin’s Eucharistic theology (although the eschatological dimension of the Supper is generally muted in Calvin) is that it is our reality that is out of joint and needs to be reorientated to Christ, rather than vice versa. In the Eucharist it is not Christ who is brought down to us, but we who are raised up by the Holy Spirit to enjoy the presence of Christ in the heavenlies.

This is somewhat close to our view (as far as it goes). We believe all that, but we also believe that Jesus is present in an incarnational fashion as well, not just "spiritually", as Calvin uses that term in the context of his discussions on the Eucharist. It is the "heavenlies" that Catholics are referring to when they believe that the Cross is made present to us. It is the sort of "heavenly now" that St. John wrote about. In my book, A Biblical Defense of Catholicism (p. 99 in Sophia edition), I wrote:

Some verses in Revelation state that the "prayers of the saints" are being offered at the altar in the form of incense (8:3-4; cf. 5:8-9). But the climactic scene of this entire glorious portrayal of heaven occurs in Rev 5:1-7. Verse 6 describes "a Lamb standing as though it had been slain." Since the Lamb (Jesus, of course) is revealed as sitting in the midst of God's throne (5:6, 7:17, 22:1,3; cf. Matthew 19:28, 25:31, Hebrews 1:8), which is in front of the golden altar (8:3), then it appears that the presentation of Christ to the Father as a Sacrifice is an ongoing (from God's perspective, timeless) occurrence, precisely as in Catholic teaching. Thus the Mass is no more than what occurs in heaven, according to the clear revealed word of Scripture.
I wrote on pages 97-98 of the same book:
In light of the repeated references in Hebrews to Melchizedek as the prototype of Christ's priesthood (5:6,10, 6:20, 7:1-3,17,20), it follows that this priesthood is perpetual (for ever), not one time only. For no one would say, for example, that Christ is King (present tense) if in fact He were only King for a short while in the past. This (Catholic) interpretation is borne out by explicit evidence in Hebrews 7:24-25:
He holds his priesthood permanently, because he continues for ever. Consequently he is able for all time to save those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.
If Jesus perpetually intercedes for us, why should He not also permanently present Himself as Sacrifice to His Father? The connecting word, consequently, appears to affirm this scenario. The very notion, fundamental to all strains of Christian theology, that the Cross and the Blood are efficacious here and now for the redemption of sinners, presupposes a dimension of "presentness" to the Atonement.
Christ is at a distance from us because of the disjointedness of our reality. Both the time and the place in which Christ exists are removed from our own. However, the Holy Spirit is able to bring together things that are separated. Rather than Christ being brought down again into the structures of our broken world, in the Eucharist, by the work of the Holy Spirit we are given a foretaste of the world reorientated to His reality.

Again, we agree. Our complaint would be that Calvin's approach is arbitrarily selective. He doesn't take the principles you elucidate far enough, and denies essential aspects of the historic teaching and the relevant biblical data.

The presence of Christ in the Supper is the presence of the eschaton and all that that entails. It is from the celebration of the Eucharist that the Church derives its identity as the body of Christ (1 Corinthians 10:16). The presence of Christ in the Supper is not a presence that excludes absence or removes any ambiguity to the Church’s existence. The revelation of the Church’s true existence awaits the future coming of Christ (Colossians 3:3-4; 1 John 3:2). However, in the interim each celebration of the Eucharist is a mini-Parousia.

As the Second Coming is physical (unless one adopts the "invisible coming in 1914" of Jehovah's Witnesses), so should be the Eucharist, if you wish to make this analogy. You're only helping to prove my point. The Incarnation was physical; so is the Eucharist. The Cross was a physical event in time; so the Mass re-presents that one-time event and make it miraculously present; transporting the worships to the heavenlies.

The doctrine of transubstantiation risks denting the Church’s hope for the future. If Christ is fully present every time that the Church celebrates the Eucharist, for what greater presence are we eagerly waiting?

The Beatific Vision.

Whilst I realize that those who hold the doctrine of transubstantiation seldom deny the doctrine of the Second Coming, I believe that the doctrine of transubstantiation has the tendency of obscuring it.

That is visible and not under the signs and symbols of something else. The two things are sufficiently different for any danger of "obscuring" to be present. Hence, as you admit, Catholics "seldom deny the doctrine of the Second Coming."

. . . Such an exclusive emphasis on the presence of Christ in the bread leads to a number of problems. Perhaps the chief of these problems is the elevation of the Church’s position relative to Christ. The Church is seen to be the chief active agent, rather than Christ.

Not at all, as explained above. We're merely repeating the words of consecration from the Last Supper, as our Lord commanded us, and echoing the explicitly "eucharistic" and "sacrificial / priestly" language and described heavenly rituals in the books of Hebrews and Revelation.

Christ’s agency in giving Himself to the Church is not as prominent as the agency of the Church, which gives us this Christ in the depersonalized form of bread.

Who was it who said "this is My [depersonalized?] Body"? And who is it who merely repeats the words as they see the one at the left saying them?

Of course, this form of the doctrine of transubstantiation is not to be confused with the form held by Aquinas and many other modern theologians. Nevertheless, it has had a significant number of adherents in the pews of Roman Catholic churches over the years.

I can't tell what "form" you are talking about when, so I am simply answering to the best of my ability. I see no reason to go back and revise what I wrote.

As I have already hinted, the presence of Christ in the Supper must not be limited to the bread and the wine, but must be extended to embrace the whole ceremony.

He is already present there, as He is always with us (also in our hearts in the indwelling). The Eucharist takes the "presence" beyond that, to another level.

We must start with a very clear perception of the Christ of the gospels who has ascended to sit at the right hand of the Father. The incarnate Christ did not cease to be; Jesus Christ is still a man for us and our salvation. In the Supper He permits us to feed on Himself in the eating of bread and the drinking of wine. The presence of Christ in the bread and the wine is not a presence that is to be gazed upon,

Why not? As I've written before: He is either truly there or He is not. If so, then He should be -- nay, must be -- worshiped as He was when He walked the earth. If not, then it is foolish to speak of "real presence" and suchlike; it becomes simply wordplay. But the Reformed view illogically wants it both ways: to speak of being "really present," yet refusing the next logical step of rendering worship and adoration. This makes no sense to me. If there is no worship of Jesus in the miracle of the Eucharist, then there is no Eucharist, by definition. It's a hollow ritual smacking of pure Zwinglian symbolism. That brings us back to a presence no different from a spiritual (but not physical) presence that occurs at all times, everywhere.

One of the problems with some forms of the doctrine of transubstantiation is that, through their treatment of the transubstantiated bread as some ‘new thing’, they have tempted people to treat the elements primarily as things to be gazed at, rather than as food to be eaten.

We do both, just as Jesus was mostly "gazed at" (and listened to) when He walked the earth. In due course, He gave His Flesh and Blood under the forms of bread and wine at the Last (Passover) Supper. So, following the biblical model, the "gazing" was far more prominent than the "partaking." Consequently, we Catholics do both. We partake at every Mass, and we adore the consecrated host also. One is no less important or valid than the other (though partaking of communion gives us more grace and brings us closer to Christ).

Once the elements are treated in such a manner, they can actually become darkened to our sight. The appearance of bread ends up hiding the body of Christ, rather than really revealing it. However, if we affirm that the presence of Christ in the elements is the presence of Christ as the gift of food, the bread actually serves to reveal the body of Christ in this sense and does not obscure it.

I don't see how. The eyes of faith have no problem with any of this. We are worshiping Jesus. Period. It is only those who no longer believe in transubstantiation who fall into these other errors of category or misplaced emphasis.

The Eucharistic elements are primarily there to be looked at and meditated upon; the elements begin to eclipse the event that they should be part of. This tendency is a big one in evangelical circles and is not absent in Roman Catholic circles.

Again, I don't know why you would say this, since we partake at every Mass.

Many forms of the practices of Eucharistic adoration, some practices associated with the reservation of the host and the use of the bread in Corpus Christi festivals and the like strike me as quite decadent, unbiblical and sub-Christian.

Why? If He is really there, He should be worshiped. What in the world is wrong with that? But this takes us off into territory of the charge of idolatry, which I have dealt with elsewhere.

They involve a serious distortion of the biblical rite and seem quite alien to the sacrament that was instituted by our Lord.

He was worshiped and adored when He walked the earth. He is now (except in Protestantism, short of a very few places).

Adoring Christ in the Eucharist is a perfectly biblical thing to do. As we celebrate the Supper we worship Christ as the One who gives us food and fellowships with us. We also receive Him as food in the elements. Adoring Christ in the Eucharist need not involve adoring the consecrated host. I sincerely believe that, however well-intentioned it might be, the manner in which the elements are treated in some traditions is technically idolatrous.

Why? I've never had anyone explain this to me in any way that makes any sense to me. We believe Jesus is really there, and then we worship Him because He is there. Yet that somehow becomes idolatry? Help me out with this, please. Just as I start to believe that you and I are close in spirit on this matter, despite the real differences, all of a sudden now I am an idolater, and it is back to Calvin's same old nonsense and bogus charges.

We certainly feed on Christ’s body and drink of His blood, but in a very important sense what we eat is bread and what we drink is wine (1 Corinthians 11:26).

St. Paul is simply using phenomenological language, just as we do when we say "the sun comes up." It is describing something by the appearance without denying the underlying reality (see also 1 Corinthians 10:16). Paul shows his eucharistic realism in verse 27 when he refers to those partaking "in an unworthy manner" as being "guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord." Furthermore, he speaks the language of sacrifice and altar in 1 Corinthians 10:14-21. This makes no sense in the context of a non-realist interpretation of the Eucharist. He refers to pagans offering sacrifice in 10:20 (see v. 14).This is contrasted to "the table of the Lord" in v. 21.

The analogy seems quite clear: the pagans offer to idol-demons at their table; Christian priests offer Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God at their "table" (i.e., altar). As the demons are falsely, idolatrously worshiped, so Jesus in the Eucharist is truly, properly worshiped and a priestly sacrifice occurs. But you want to take away this worship, or define it away as idolatry. You claim that the Mass is idolatrous? I could just as easily say (only rhetorically, not actually) that your denial of worship of Jesus in the consecrated host is blasphemy, since you are going against the very essence of the ritual and miracle by denying that He is really there (therefore you refuse worship and maintain that the bread and wine are never transformed).

Although Christ is truly present in the elements, the elements themselves never lose their integrity as creations of God.

This denies the reality of the change again. It is an untenable and incoherent philosophy. The Incarnation transformed the relationship of God to His creation. Matter was raised to untold heights when God took on matter and became a Man.

The mere fact that the bread in the Eucharist truly is the body of Christ does not make it a worthy object of worship.

This is clearly not Real Presence at all, then. This is where the confusion and distinct danger of idolatry occurs, not in Catholic transubstantiation. You never know when Jesus becomes present (since you object to our words of consecration as a clear demarcation point), and bread and wine are always present through the whole thing (so you stated above). Therefore, the danger of idolatry is arguably far higher than what you think it is in the Mass. How do you know you are not worshiping mere bread or wine?

But when you believe as we do, that what appears to be bread and wine, no longer is, in fact, then no idolatry occurs, because to make something an idol, you have to believe that it is something other than the true God, and worship it in place of God. We don't believe it is anything else but God, because we hold that it has become the Body and Blood of Christ. It has changed its substance (trans [change] [of] / substantiation) Therefore, idolatry is impossible by definition and simple category distinctions.

The Church is also truly the body of Christ without being a proper object of our worship. The claim that belief in Christ’s real presence in the elements necessarily entails the adoration of the consecrated host is one that leaves me unpersuaded.

This only proves my point. The Church is the Body of Christ insofar as Christ is in us. Yet no one says that the Church (made up of flesh and blood persons) is to be worshiped. Jesus Christ is to be worshiped. But Jesus is not us. He is in us, and we are distinct from Him. We're created human beings making up a Church, and He is God. This is where your argument against adoration and Catholic doctrine supposedly establishing idolatry collapses, because you want to freely move between the categories of Real Presence and Body-of-Christ [Church] as Christ.

You say the bread and wine are present, yet true worship occurs, and no idolatry, in a Protestant understanding of the eucharistic service. But if you can worship Jesus while bread and wine are still present, and not commit idolatry, and worship Jesus somehow in and through the Church (since the latter is also His Body), why is it that one cannot worship Jesus when they believe that no bread and wine are present? Why is it that that is considered idolatry, whereas worship of Jesus "alongside" bread and wine is not? It seems to me that if the charge of idolatry is to be slung around, that it is far more apt to those who worship according to your view, than those who follow the Catholic view.

You made the failure of your argument very clear yourself: "The Church is also truly the body of Christ without being a proper object of our worship." The Church can be the Body of Christ without being worshiped, but (what was once) bread cannot provide a sign or appearance without bread also being worshiped idolatrously? This makes no sense at all. You could, likewise, argue (since you say that you accept the "real presence") that "the bread is also truly the body of Christ without being a proper object of our worship."

Then you would be admitting that it is possible to separate the sign and the created matter from our Lord, Who is being worshiped. By the same token, Catholics can just as easily separate the sign and appearance of bread from the God Whom they are worshiping. But we don't believe that the bread is there any longer. You do. Yet we are supposedly idolaters and you aren't? It's completely incoherent and illogical; nonsensical.

Your confusion is shown in your next sentence: "The claim that belief in Christ’s real presence in the elements necessarily entails the adoration of the consecrated host is one that leaves me unpersuaded." But this involves a simple category mistake as well. The real presence is not "in the elements" (which is Luther's consubstantiation or Calvin's spiritual presence). Rather, the elements have been changed and transformed to Jesus' Body and Blood. If what appears to be bread and wine are now actually His Body and Blood, they can be worshiped. Period. End of sentence.

Why is this so difficult to grasp? You may not believe that. You may think that they are bread and wine. But Catholics believe that bread and wine are no longer present, and Catholics are the ones you are accusing of being idolaters. Idolatry is an internal condition of placing some creation above God, in His place. How can one believe in transubstantiation, and worship the consecrated host, believing that it is no longer bread, but God, and be an idolater? It isn't possible. And it isn't, not only because the categories are confused by the critics, but because it isn't possible to replace God with something else, if one doesn't believe the "something else" is there at all.

The Catholic believes, rather, that God is truly present under the accidents of what looks like bread and wine, just as all Nicene Christians believe that God became a man, taking on outward qualities that look to all appearances to be no different than other men, all of whom are mere creatures; yet this man was God. If God could be 100% God and 100% man at the same time (Nicene and Athanasian Creeds), then why is it so inconceivable that He could be 100% God and only look like bread and wine?

Which is more difficult to accept, according to natural reason? I submit that the Incarnation and Two Natures of Christ are, in many ways, more difficult to believe than transubstantiation (because by raw logic it makes no sense for something to be "100% or "fully" two things at the same time). Yet you have no difficulty accepting that, while the latter is regarded as idolatrous, insofar as adoration of the consecrated host occurs.

The Eucharist makes the Church and the Church makes the Eucharist. The ecclesial body is dependent upon the Eucharist and there would be no Eucharist were it not the particular community of the Church that assembled to celebrate it. The assembly of the Church is a prerequisite for a true celebration of the Eucharist. Private masses are a dangerous departure from the biblical pattern.

No masses at all and denial of the substantial presence of Jesus in the Eucharist are what are the radical departures from the Bible and the early Church. Once there is such a thing as a Mass, it is no more a violation to have a private one than it is to pray or fast in private.

Following de Lubac, a number of authors have drawn attention to the manner in which the relationship between the three aspects of the theological body of Christ began to be reconceived towards the end of the Middle Ages, resulting in a corrupted doctrine of the Eucharist. In particular, de Lubac and others have highlighted the manner in the relationship between the ecclesial and the sacramental body was altered. Whereas the historical body used to be implicitly separated to some degree from the sacramental and ecclesial body, as time went on the sacramental body gradually migrated to the other side of the separation.

In the original relationship, the sacramental body and the ecclesial body were seen as mutually confirming and dependent upon one another. However, the sacramental body was gradually prioritized over the ecclesial body until it ended up being screened off from the ecclesial body. The status of the Church as the body of Christ was downplayed until it assumed little more than the level of a metaphor. Many supporters of transubstantiation would be shocked by the manner in which I have paralleled the presence of Christ in the elements with the presence of Christ in the Church. This is because they think in terms of Christ sustaining a relatively anaemic presence in the Church. In the elevation of the sacrament, the assembly of the Church has been denigrated.

One can emphasize various aspects of the Eucharist, and the larger Body of Christ without denying transubstantiation. The Second Vatican Council did, in fact, do this.

Of course, many Roman Catholics will claim that I am seriously misrepresenting their position at this point. They will claim that it is absurd to accuse the Roman Catholic Church of denigrating Christ’s presence within the Church, as Roman Catholics clearly hold to a higher view of the Church than any Protestant ever could. I beg to differ: Roman Catholics hold to a higher view of the hierarchy of the Church, but not to a higher view of the Church itself. This is itself a result of the separation of the sacramental body from the ecclesial body.

This is an overstatement of the separation of the priesthood, or what some call "sacerdotalism." I don't deny that this has been a problem historically, but then that is what ecumenical councils are for. Vatican II greatly emphasized the laity and the Body of Christ. I think it was a marvelous development and emphasis (I'm a lay apologist myself, who has been enthusiastically supported and encouraged by many priests). So we're working on that. Meanwhile, Protestants no longer even believe in ecumenical councils, let alone participate in them. They continue to deny a host of important (we would say, indispensable) historic Christian doctrines.

As the sacramental body was separated from the ecclesial body, the actions of the priest became all-important. The role of the people in the rite was marginalized, the withdrawal of the cup from the laity merely serving to reinforce the separation. The Church that made the Eucharist was no longer the gathered assembly, but the clergy. Private masses and other corrupt practices seem quite logical when the relationship between the sacramental and ecclesial body is regarded in such a manner. The power of the clergy, who secured the presence of Christ in the sacrament, was thereby enhanced. Within such a setting, transubstantiation became a strange miracle performed by the priest, while the role of the laity was increasingly a passive one.

Transubstantiation goes back to the early centuries in kernel form, because a transformational view of the Eucharist was the leading opinion in the Fathers, so it is foolish to try to trace (the origin of?) this so-called "strange miracle" to later times. I would argue, too, of course, that the transformational view (without technical philosophical terminology) is taught fairly explicitly in Scripture, too.

My differences with certain forms of the doctrine of transubstantiation do not have to do with (a) whether Christ is truly present in the Supper, or (b) whether we genuinely partake of the flesh and blood of Christ in the eating of the bread and drinking of the wine. I wholeheartedly affirm that Christ is truly present in the Supper and that we feed on the substance of Christ as we partake.

How can you believe that, since you have argued that for Jesus to be physically present ("flesh and blood of Christ") would be to deny that He ascended and is in heaven? Either you have contradicted yourself, or you don't really believe in the Real Presence (or have redefined "flesh and blood of Christ" in this context to be non-physical).

Consecrationism often regards the presence of Christ in the bread and wine in a manner that holds true even outside of the context of the Supper, leading to such practices as the laying aside of the bread and parading it in Corpus Christi festivals. In opposition to such practices, I would assert that the presence of Christ in the bread and the wine is the presence of Christ as the gift of food (the firstfruits of the new creation) . . . In a context where the eating and drinking of the Church is not going to take place, there is no presence of Christ in the elements.

And what biblical and patristic evidence do you produce for such a belief?

. . . I am persuaded that most of the forms that the doctrine of transubstantiation has taken should be regarded as serious departures from biblical teaching.

And I am equally persuaded that your departures from the historical doctrine of transubstantiation should be regarded as seriously contrary to biblical and patristic teaching.

Thanks so much for your thoughts, and the opportunity to respond (I greatly appreciate your asking me to do so). I enjoyed the dialogue, and hope that it will continue. So many times when I respond to others like this, I feel that the dialogue is truly only beginning. I think that about our present topic. But my dialogical opponents quite often feel otherwise, and do not respond further. I think that is a shame, and I hope you'll be an exception to that rule.

Uploaded on 31 January 2005 by Dave Armstrong.

St. Augustine's Belief in the Real Presence

The great Church Father makes many statements which have been traditionally seized upon as evidence of his adoption of either a purely symbolic or Calvinistic notion of the Lord's Supper. This consideration will be dealt with first, before consulting the primary materials:

I. Ludwig Ott, Fundamentals of Catholic Dogma, tr. Patrick Lynch, ed. James C. Bastible, Rockford, IL: TAN Books, 1974 (orig. 1952 in German), 377-378:


    The Eucharistic doctrine expounded by St. Augustine is interpreted in a purely spiritual way by most Protestant writers on the history of dogmas. Despite his insistence on the symbolical explanation he does not exclude the Real Presence. In association with the words of institution he concurs with the older Church tradition in expressing belief in the Real Presence . . .

    When in the Fathers' writings, esp. those of St. Augustine, side by side with the clear attestations of the Real Presence, many obscure symbolically-sounding utterances are found also, the following points must be noted for the proper understanding of such passages: (1) The Early Fathers were bound by the discipline of the secret, which referred above all to the Eucharist (cf. Origen, In Lev. hom. 9, 10); (2) The absence of any heretical counter-proposition often resulted in a certain carelessness of expression, to which must be added the lack of a developed terminology to distinguish the sacramental mode of existence of Christ's body from its natural mode of existence once on earth; (3) The Fathers were concerned to resist a grossly sensual conception of the Eucharistic Banquet and to stress the necessity of the spiritual reception in Faith and in Charity (in contradistinction to the external, merely sacramental reception); passages often refer to the symbolical character of the Eucharist as 'the sign of unity' (St. Augustine); this in no wise excludes the Real Presence.

II. Johannes Quasten, Patrology, v.4, ed. Angelo di Berardino, tr. Placid Solari, St. Augustine chapter (VI) written by Agostino Trape, Allen, TX: Christian Classics, 1950, 449-450:

    His thought [on the sacraments] has been widely studied but has not always been expounded in an unequivocal manner. Here as in other instances, it is necessary to keep in mind the various aspects of the dogma which he illustrates and defends. Thus........his insistence on the ecclesiological symbolism of the Eucharist does not obscure his explicit affirmations of the real presence (the bread is the Body of Christ and the wine is the Blood of Christ: Serm. 227; 272; In ps. 98, 9; 33, 1, 10) and of the sacrificial nature of the Eucharist (De civ. Dei 10, 19-20; Conf. 9, 12, 32; 13-36).
III. In a paper I recently wrote detailing in more technically theological fashion my odyssey to the Catholic Church (recalling the period in which I was voraciously studying people like Dollinger, Salmon and Kung, in order to refute Catholic claims to infallibility), I recounted my own use of the approach I am now critiquing:

    I claimed that St. Augustine . . . adopted a symbolic view of the Eucharist. I based this on his oft-stated notion of the sacrament as symbol or sign. I failed to realize, however, that I was arbitrarily creating a false, logically unnecessary dichotomy between the sign and the reality of the Eucharist, for St. Augustine - when all his remarks on the subject are taken into account - clearly accepted the Real Presence. The Eucharist- for Augustine, and objectively speaking - is both sign and reality. There simply is no contradiction.

    A cursory glance at Scripture confirms this general principle. For instance, Jesus refers to the sign of Jonah, comparing the prophet Jonah's three days and nights in the belly of the fish to His own burial in the earth (Mt 12:38-40). In this case, both events, although described as signs, were quit