
John M. Frame
Greg Bahnsen’s debate with Gordon Stein has become
something of a legend in our circles. We must admit that it has been rare for a
presuppositionalist to actually debate an unbeliever.
To the extent that this fact stems from fear, or from a misunderstanding of presuppositionalism (“no point of contact”), we should be
ashamed. To the extent that it stems from a lack of debating gifts, (as I would
plead in my own defense), we should pray that God will give us more such gifts.
To the extent that we have some hesitations about the debate-genre, we should
seek to reform it. I confess that I do have some reservations about that
format: it almost requires the opponents to try to tear one another to shreds, rather
than speaking the truth in love. But there seems to be no other structure
capable of drawing such clear contrasts between two positions, before a live
audience.
Whatever we may say about that, on this
anniversary we should recall that Greg Bahnsen was supremely gifted in debate
and had no fear whatsoever. And he fully understood that there is indeed a
point of contact between believer and unbeliever: in the power of the Spirit,
and in the knowledge of God the unbeliever has, but suppresses.
I was there, having driven up with several students from
To be honest, Stein was not a strong representative of his position. As Bahnsen
pointed out, he had no philosophical training. He was a “village atheist” type,
representing some freethought organization. He came
prepared to offer stock objections to the standard theistic proofs of Aquinas
and others. When Bahnsen announced that he too objected to those standard
proofs, but that he offered a very different proof, a “transcendental
argument,” Stein was evidently flummoxed. He didn’t seem to have ever heard of
such a thing. So he huffed and puffed and sputtered away, finding various ways
of using his prepared material—which (in the view of the audience) Bahnsen had
shown to be irrelevant. In the end, Stein walked and talked like a broken man.
Bahnsen’s transcendental argument was carefully put
together and eloquently stated: logic, the laws of nature, and the laws of
morality make no sense unless God is presupposed. I confess I was not fully
convinced that Bahnsen’s “transcendental argument”
was as different from the arguments of Aquinas as he claimed. For I think the
implication of Aquinas’s argument, too, is that at least one cannot account for
the laws of nature without God. And I suspect that Aquinas would have said the
same thing about logic and morality. Both Bahnsen and Aquinas believed,
“without God, no logic, natural law, or moral law.” So the difference between
Bahnsen and Aquinas needs to be spelled out further than was done in the Stein
debate. Of course there was no time for such a methodological discussion in
that context. Bahnsen and I later discussed our differences on that subject in
various venues, and that discussion still continues among us years after Bahnsen’s untimely death. Before Bahnsen entered the
hospital for the last time, we exchanged emails, reaffirming our friendship and
mutual respect. The last words of his email to me, and the last I ever heard
from him, were, “but I still disagree with you on the transcendental argument.” How typically Bahnsen, indeed.
But I do honor him, as one God singularly gifted for the spiritual warfare of
our time. I hope that his example inspires others to join the fray with similar
brilliance, passion, and commitment. I have recommended the tapes of the Stein
debate to many of my students. Whatever we may say about the debate genre,
there is a place for confrontation and for the intellectual exposure of Satan’s
lies. In those respects, Bahnsen still has no peer.