THE AMSTERDAM
A PRELIMINARY CRITIQUE
John M. Frame
CONTENTS
1. Background
a. The Modal Spheres
b. The Self
c. God
7. Law
8. Scripture and the Word of God
10. Science
11. Education
13. Evangelism
14. Apologetics
15. Conclusions
Preface, 2005
This
booklet was published by Pilgrim Press in 1972, in the midst of some
theological warfare. Representatives of the Amsterdam Philosophy were then
taking a militant stance against traditional Reformed theology, and the
controversy created partisan battles on the campus of Westminster Seminary,
where I was a very young professor. It also threatened to split churches,
Christian schools, and other Christian organizations. As a member of a
committee of the Ohio Presbytery of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, I was
asked to write a brief study of the movement, and the booklet resulted.
Originally it was published together with another essay by Leonard Coppes, the
Chairman of the Committee.
As
I read the booklet today, I think my tone was far too shrill. The booklet also
contains far too much smart-alecky stuff. I suppose I could have entirely
rewritten it, but that would have made my 1972 efforts look better than they
were. I prefer now to let readers judge me as I deserve, warts and all. I also
think that the basic points of the pamphlet were never answered, though I
received a lot of invective, and a lot of undocumented charges that I just
didn’t know Dooyeweerd. On those issues also, I will let readers judge.
The
Since the movement is so widespread and is growing rather than diminishing in influence, a warning is in order: not all of the comments made about the movement in the following pages will apply to all of its adherents. Nevertheless, these adherents claim to belong to a “school,” a group dedicated to the advancement of certain basic principles and the application of those principles to all areas of life. Such a claim not only legitimizes but necessitates critical evaluation, which is directed toward the principles and goals affirmed in the movement as a whole, and not just toward the viewpoints of individuals.
Another caveat: it will be
impossible in this report to more than summarize the issues at stake in this
movement. The
For the above three reasons,
it is both legitimate and necessary for non-philosophers to make a critical
appraisal of the
What is it that makes the
On
the other hand, says the
All of these principles
are, in our view, scriptural, Reformational, and worthy of our support. And it might also be said that the
The trouble is, however, that these scriptural,
Reformational, brilliantly well-expressed principles are not “all there is” in
the
We hope that the following
discussion will not be so technical as to lose the reader's attention at this
early point. If it is, the reader is
advised to jump ahead, for later sections of this report will be more “practical”
in some senses than this one. This one
is important, however. The distinction
between common sense and science, between “naive experience” and “theoretical
thought,” between “pre-theoretical” and “theoretical”
[6]
is central to
the
Dooyeweerd and the other
Now what, precisely, is involved in this distinction? The usual illustrations are fairly straightforward. A child walks through a field on a summer day, looking at the daisies. A botanist walks through the same field, picks a daisy, and takes it home for an experiment connected with his doctoral dissertation. The child “looks,” the botanist “experiments.” Surely there is a difference between these two people in their attitudes toward the daisy! Surely, then there is a difference between ordinary life, where we appreciate daisies as we walk through a field, and theoretical thought, where we study them.
Well, there seems to be a
difference! But the matter becomes a bit
more complicated when we consider other cases.
We will agree that the child looking at the daisies is “naive” or
“pre-theoretical,” in some obvious sense.
But what about a child who has been told by his teacher to find as many
different colored flowers as he can? He
wanders through the field, looks at a daisy, writes down “yellow and white.” He
looks at a dandelion, writes “yellow”; looks at a rose and writes “red.” Is
that theoretical or naive? Well, it
certainly isn't the beginning of a doctoral dissertation! It is a matter of simple observation, we
might say. Yet it presupposes some
learning a knowledge of color – words, an ability to write. Surely this learning is the beginning of what
we might call “theoretical equipment.” What of a ninth grader who writes an
essay concerning his political philosophy?
The essay might consist mostly of “naive” observations – yet these would
be on a more sophisticated level than we would expect from a sixth grader! From these illustrations, then, it would
seem that “naive” and “theoretical” are not air-tight compartments as the
But
of course we must go beyond illustrations and ask precisely how the
Scientific thought is discriminative, analytical, and
antithetical. In our naive
experience we are closely in touch with life-in-its-totality
or fulness.
[8]
This is not to say, however
that naive experience makes no analyses, no distinctions of any kind:
In our naive experience we
have a naive view of concrete reality.
We know how to distinguish a man from an animal and from a plant. We are conscious that family life is something
different from Church life. We know that
the state possesses other capacities than the Church.
[9]
More
significantly, naive experience makes distinctions among the various aspects of
human experience which Dooyeweerd calls “modal aspects” (on this concept see
later discussion):
In naive experience we
conceive [a bird's nest] as an individual whole, qualified by this
subject-object relation to the bird's life; and this finds expression in the
name whereby the thing is symbolically signified.... A plastic work of fine art
is experienced as an individual whole, functioning in all the modal aspects of
our temporal horizon, but typically qualified by its aesthetic subject-object
relation.
[10]
Note here that it is in
naive experience that we determine what modal aspect “qualifies” a particular
object. At first glance, at least, this
sort of idea makes naive experience sound rather theoretical!
So then what is the difference between naive
experience and theoretical thought? That
difference Dooyeweerd and others portray in various ways. The most common, and most promising
formulation usually resembles the following:
[In naive experience] we ...
experience concrete things and events in the typical structures, of individual
totalities which in principle function in all the modal aspects of our temporal
horizon in their continuous mutual coherence.
Our logical mode of distinction is entirely embedded in this integral
experience. Our pre-theoretical logical
concepts are only related to things and events as individual wholes, and not to
the abstract modal aspects of their empirical reality.
[11]
The idea here seems to be
that naive experience focuses on things
(tables, chairs, trees, rocks, persons) and events
(the battle of Waterloo, the invention of printing, Mary Jane's trip to the
grocer), while theoretical thought focuses on aspects of things (number, space, movement, economic value,
aesthetic beauty, etc.). We say “focuses” because Dooyeweerd has said that
naive experience does make certain distinctions among these aspects, and has
some interest in them (next to last quote).
The trouble here, though, is that “focusing” is a relative concept. One can be
more or less “focused” on
something. All we have said so far is
that naive experience is relatively
more interested in things and events while theoretical thought is relatively more interested in aspects
(aspects, of course, of things). And this sort of idea doesn't give us the
sharp distinction that Dooyeweerd
wants to assert.
Another related type of
distinction is found in the assertion that in naive experience, in distinction
from theoretical thought,
These aspects are only
experienced implicitly in the things and events themselves, and not explicitly
in their analytical dissociation and opposition to the logical function of thought.
[12]
Here let us consider the distinction between “implicit” and “explicit” (leaving other aspects of this statement aside for the present). The trouble is, again, that this distinction is not sharp enough. Implicitness as opposed to explicitness is a relative matter, characterizable by “more” and “less.” We say, for example that the doctrine of justification by faith is “more explicit” in the New Testament than in the Old. Within the New Testament, we might say that it is more explicit in Luke 18 than in James 2. There is a sense, to be sure, in which we say that it is “perfectly explicit” in a passage like Romans 3:28 that is the extreme end of the continuum. Short of that there are many degrees of explicitness. Thus it appears that if the implicit/explicit distinction is to be our criterion for the naive/theoretical distinction, we will again have only a relative distinction, a difference in degree rather than kind, a continuum rather than a sharp disjunction. Dooyeweerd himself suggests this, again, when he says that naive experience is interested in the modal aspects of the things it perceives. (See above discussion.) If naive experience perceives these modal distinctions, then surely these distinctions are only relatively “implicit” in naive experience. They are to some extent also explicit.
Spier
suggests that the two forms of knowledge have different purposes, or goals:
The naive knowing-process ... can have a multiplicity of ends. It can seek to attain an economical end, as in the case of industrial knowledge, or it can have a pistical end, as in the case of pistical knowledge. Scientific knowledge, in contrast, always has an analytical end; it is concerned with a scientific understanding of reality. [13]
As it stands, of course,
this quote won't do for a definition, since in the description of “scientific
knowledge” the word “scientific” is used, thereby rendering the definition
circular. But laying that aside, is it
true that scientific knowledge has only one purpose? Is it true that scientific knowledge is
purely for the sake of knowledge and never for the sake of gaining wealth or
deepening faith? We think not, unless
Spier is employing some highly unusual concept of “science” here. And is it the case that naive knowing is not
concerned with an understanding of reality?
[14]
For that
matter, if scientific knowing is rooted in naive knowing as Dooyeweerd says it
is, then it would appear that some naive knowing, at least, is necessary for
(and therefore instrumental to) even a scientific
understanding of reality. This
suggestion of Spier, then, is no more helpful than the others we have
considered in defining clearly the naive/theoretical distinction.
Some of the
characterizations of this distinction in the
There are non-scientific and
scientific concepts. The former, the
naive concept, is strongly bound to the Psychical substratum of sensory
representations. The latter frees itself
from a Psychical substratum, and under the leadership of the norm of cognitive
symbols, it rises above the level of abstraction attained by a naive
concept. Because of its high degree of
abstraction, a scientific concept gains in clarity but it loses direct contact
with life.
[15]
Here the expressions “strongly bound” and “high degree” suggest the kind of continuum we have been arguing for. Of course, if Spier had specified the precise degree of abstraction which scientific concepts obtain, then the distinction could have been as sharp as he wishes; but he has in fact not done so. Note also the following:
... theoretical knowledge is
a deepened knowledge. Finally, naive knowledge is unsystematic
while science continually seeks to systematize and complete its knowledge.
[16]
Deepening, of course, is something
that can be done by degrees, and we generally assume that it is unless the
precise level of deepening is made clear.
As for being “systematic,” that too is a matter of degree. Spier himself speaks of naive experience as
attempting to attain “precision.”
[17]
Certainly the
knowledge we obtain in everyday life is not chaotic, utterly disorganized. On the other hand, scientific knowledge is
never so perfectly systematized that it needs no reconstruction. Naive knowledge appears to be relatively unsystematic, while
scientific knowledge is relatively systematic.
We have purposely avoided
discussing the more technical formulations of this distinction, simply because
these technical formulations presuppose other parts of the
(Theoretical thought)
displays an antithetic structure wherein the logical aspect of our thought is
opposed to the non-logical aspects of our temporal experience.
[19]
This formulation, of course, presupposes that one can distinguish clearly between “logical” and “non-logical” “aspects,” something that we do not believe Dooyeweerd has done. Another typical formulation, the idea that scientific thought is characterized by “theoretical abstraction” [20] (as opposed, presumably, to some other kind of abstraction) is no help unless we have a definition of “theoretical”; but that is precisely what we have searched in vain to find!
The real power of the naive/theoretical distinction, however, seems to lie
in the connotations of certain images and metaphors constantly employed in the
literature. Naive experience is close to
its objects, while “in science we
maintain a certain distance between ourselves and the object of our
investigation.”
[21]
Science tries to “grasp” its objects which in turn “offer resistance” to it.
[22]
Theoretical
thought “sets things apart,”
[23]
while naive
experience sees them in the “continuous bond of their coherence.”
[24]
In naive
experience, “our logical function remains completely immerged in the continuity
of the temporal coherence between the different aspects.”
[25]
Not only “immerged,” but even “embedded”!
[26]
Naive
experience has an “integral” character.
[27]
Naive
experience distinguishes subject and
object, but theoretical thought opposes them,
breaking asunder that experience which the naive mind preserves in “unbreakable
coherence.”
[28]
The force of these metaphors is
undeniable. We have all had the feeling,
as we sit down to write an academic paper, that we are in some sense “backing
away” from reality. It seems as though
we are tearing apart things that in ordinary life are kept together. We feel that we are, as it were, digging into
the universe with our fingers and pulling it apart to see how it works. Occasionally, in personal appearances, an
Amsterdam-oriented thinker will expound the naive/theoretical distinction by
closing his eyes, becoming very intense, pronouncing his words very slowly and
distinctly, and saying “Naive experience does not make thee-oh-rett-i-cal distinctions” or something to that effect. His manner imitates the feeling that we have
all had, that theoretical work is something very difficult, abstract, precise,
removed from ordinary life, etc. The
difficulty, however, is that –paradoxically! – these metaphors do not have
sufficient precision to distinguish “theoretically” between one thing called
naive experience and another very different thing called theoretical
thought. The concept “distance,” when
applied to the relation of knower to thing known, is a metaphor, and a metaphor
which can be taken in various ways.
There are surely senses in which, even in ordinary life, we feel
“distant” from the things we perceive.
Thus without further explanation, the “distance” metaphor does not
clearly distinguish theoretical from naive experience. The same for “grasping,” “setting apart,”
“immerged,” “integral,” etc. Even the
concept of “coherence” is unclear here, for it is obviously not a literal
“coherence” as, e.g., between the parts of a desk. There are kinds of figurative “coherence” in
both naive and theoretical types of thinking, and if one does not specify the
kind of coherence in view, then the concept cannot help us with the distinction
in question. These observations, of
course, do not negate the force of the feeling
generated by these figures. We do feel that theorizing is more
“distant” from the world than ordinary experience – in various senses of
“distant.” But that feeling is perfectly consistent with the view that naive
experience and theoretical thought are opposite ends of a continuum, that there
are degrees of “distance” (and hence
of theoreticality), and therefore that the
If we are right, and no
sharp distinction can be drawn at this point, does that imply that “the masses
who live by naive experience live in a world of illusion…”?
[29]
No. There is no reason to assume that the
theoretical side of our continuum is any more “true” than the naive side. Scientists do and should continually draw
upon the observations of “common sense.” But common sense also needs technical
refinement if it is to be adequate for certain purposes. Different purposes require different degrees (and kinds) of technical
refinement.
We conclude this section
with a few observations on the
…joins forces with naive
experience and focuses its attention upon the concrete reality which we
experience in our everyday life. The
diverse aspects and coherences directly observed in naive experience are
subjected to scientific analysis in philosophy....
The scientific view of the
created cosmos is not superior to the naive view of everyday experience. In fact philosophy can not do without naive
experience, as it is based upon it.
[30]
Philosophy, and by
implication all theoretical thought, presupposes the data of naive experience;
these data are precisely what the theorist studies. And the theorist should assume, on the
Dooyeweerd places a definite
limitation upon the capacity of scientific or theoretical thought: “theoretical
thought is bound to the temporal horizon of human experience and moves within
this horizon.”
[33]
At first glance, this statement seems to
imply that theoretical thought may not speak of anything eternal or
supra-temporal. Thus it could not speak
of God, or even of the human self (since Dooyeweerd, though not others in the
movement, regards the human self, the heart of man, to be supra-temporal). Dooyeweerd, however, has much to say about
God and the self in his philosophical (and therefore theoretical)
writings. Therefore, more must be
said. How can a theorist talk about God
when his thought is “bound to the temporal horizon of human experience”? One could observe, of course, that “bound” is
another of Dooyeweerd's metaphors which is never literally explained. To say that theoretical thought is “bound” in
such a way is surely not to say that it has no relations with, no dealings with
supra-temporal realities. Dooyeweerd in
fact clearly teaches the opposite. But
then what does it mean?
Perhaps it would be better
to start from the other side of the “boundary.” That is, instead of asking the
nature of the “bond” between theoretical thought and the temporal horizon, we
should ask how supra-temporal realities such as God and the self can function
in the context of theoretical thought.
Now, perhaps we can get somewhere; for Dooyeweerd here does make some
points which can be discussed.
Essentially, he maintains that, while God and the self can be spoken of
in a theoretical context, they have such special statuses in that context that
it is not quite proper to call them elements of the theory. That special status is that of presupposition.
... all conceptual knowledge
in its analytical and inter-modal synthetical character presupposes the human ego as its central reference-point, which
consequently must be of a super-modal nature and is not capable of logical
analysis.
[34]
God and the self, Dooyeweerd
is saying, are presuppositions of any
true theory, and therefore not part of the theory itself. Of course, in a theoretical discussion it is
perfectly proper to discuss the presuppositions of the theory in question. But in Dooyeweerd's view, the theory as such
does not include its presuppositions.
We find this a rather
arbitrary principle. Why is it that the
presuppositions of a theory may not be regarded as part of the theory? There is no obvious reason why this should be
the case. Traditionally, historians,
physicists, philosophers and theologians have frequently discussed the
presuppositions of their disciplines, and Dooyeweerd offers no obvious argument, so far as we can see, either
to show that this practice is wrong or to show that it cannot be extended to
theoretical thought in general.
Dooyeweerd's reply,
undoubtedly, would be “Supra-temporal presuppositions are not like other
presuppositions.” Supra-temporal presuppositions are transcendental, showing the conditions necessary for the very possibility of thought. They have the character of “central reference
point” (last quotation), “Archimedian point,”
[35]
etc. Somehow, therefore, these presupposed
realities must be “beyond” that thought which they render possible. Ah, but that “beyond” brings us back to
spatial metaphors again! And indeed,
again at this point, the force of Dooyeweerd's conception lies in the emotive
connotations of certain figures:
In the process of directing
my philosophical thought in the idea towards the totality of meaning, I must be
able to ascend a lookout-tower above all the modal speciality of meaning that
functions within the coherence of the modal aspects.
[36]
The presupposition is a kind
of lookout-tower – and the lookout-tower can't be on the ground, else it won't
be a lookout tower! So the “central
reference point” can't be part of the theory, or it won't be the central
reference point for the theory to refer to!
Yes, the picture is a compelling one.
But of course theories are not landscapes, and therefore the question
arises as to how Dooyeweerd's analogy (not only the “explicit” analogy of the
above-quoted illustration, but also that “implicit” in his metaphorical
definitions) is to be applied. After
all, not all presuppositional relationships fit the lookout-tower image with
equal ease. The book on my table would
not exist if the paper in it were missing: it presupposes the paper. But I
would not say that on that account the paper is not part of the book! Nor would I say that the paper must be
“above” the book or “beyond” the book as a lookout-tower must be “above” its
landscape. A dictionary is a kind of
“central reference point” for proper spelling of words; but this fact does not
imply that it must be “above” or “beyond” the realm of words. It contains
words – words which are spelled according to its own principles. The dictionary legislates for all usage in
its language, including its own. Or perhaps one could say: the dictionary
is “above” the realm of words indeed, but not in any sense that prohibits its
being considered as one group of words among many, not in any sense that
prohibits its being discussed as a piece of language. So: why may not the presuppositions of theory
be themselves part of a theory?
Dooyeweerd does not answer that question with any clarity. Why is it that one cannot form a theory about
the basis of theories? Why shouldn't
Dooyeweerd's own philosophy be regarded as such a meta-theory? Such a theory, of course, would reflect on
its own basis as well as on the basis of other theories. But what is wrong with that?
The reader may be getting
impatient by now at what appears to be a rather dry academic discussion. What is the importance of all of this? As a matter of fact, this teaching raises
very important questions. Much secular,
non-Christian philosophy, notably that of Immanuel Kant, has maintained that
theoretical thought is in some sense “bound to the temporal horizon of human
experience.” In these non-Christian systems, this limitation effectually locks
God out of all theories, eliminating from those theories all possibility of reference
to God. One would think that Dooyeweerd,
as a Christian philosopher, would
wish sharply to challenge this sort of approach, to insist that God is relevant to theoretical work, that
theories have no right to lock God out.
In fact, however, Dooyeweerd's formulation is ambiguous. He wishes to speak of God, to show the
necessity of God for all theoretical thought; but at the same time he wants to
make use of a quasi-Kantian formulation that calls God's role in question.
This ambiguity shows up especially
in Dooyeweerd's assertion that there can be no “conceptual knowledge” of God
and the self.
[37]
This is a peculiar statement, for it
certainly appears from most of Dooyeweerd's writings that one can have such “conceptual knowledge,”
for Dooyeweerd speaks often of God and the self in highly “conceptual”
ways. The fact is, of course, that
Dooyeweerd is using “conceptual” here in a rather technical sense, a sense in
which only theoretical thought is “conceptual.”
[38]
Dooyeweerd
further says that when a theoretical thinker uses the idea of God or of the
self,
... the genuine conceptual contents of these
transcendental limiting ideas do not transcend the modal dimension of our
temporal horizon of experience. The same
applies to the theological limiting concepts relating to the so-called
attributes of God.
[39]
But then what happens to
Dooyeweerd's view that theoretical thought must acknowledge some supra-temporal
reference point? If a theory may not
include any language referring to supra-temporal realities; if a theory, when
it seems to be making such references
is actually making theoretical, conceptual reference only to temporal
experience; then the relation of a theory to its “supra-temporal
presuppositions” is mysterious indeed.
It is a relation which cannot be spoken of theoretically; it is a
relation which, when it is spoken of,
appears to refer only to the finite world, so that “God,” “self,” Maternity,”
“omniscience,” etc. (used as theoretical concepts), refer only to temporal
things! What then is the status of
Dooyeweerd's statement that theoretical thought presupposes God and
supra-temporal selfhood? That statement
cannot be a theoretical statement; a theoretical analysis of it must interpret
it as not referring to God and the self at all!
Is it a statement of naive experience?
Dooyeweerd doesn't say that either, and it seems rather unlikely (see
above footnote on this question). Is
there some other kind of statement? If
so, how can it be relevant to a theory which
by its very nature cannot affirm the conceptual validity and truth of such a
statement? Or does Dooyeweerd want to go
all the way with Kant (and with some modern “Christian atheists”) and affirm
that the term “God” never refers to anything except temporal, created
reality?! That view would make
Dooyeweerd a sheer idolater (one who worships a created thing as God), and
would make his philosophy explicitly and flagrantly non-Christian. Essentially, however, we think Dooyeweerd is
confusing and confused. He presents us
with no clear basis on which to attack the Kantian conception or even to
distinguish his own position from it. He leaves the status of God-language
entirely unclear, at a time when this language is under intense scrutiny (and
attack) throughout the philosophical and theological communities. A Christian philosopher, we believe, should
straightforwardly repudiate the Kantian view and say clearly and forcefully
that the theorist not only can but must speak
of God in his theoretical work. It is
this which we think Dooyeweerd really wants
to do in his better moments – when he is challenging scientists to
recognize the necessity of presupposing God.
[40]
a. The Modal Spheres (Low Spheres, Modal Aspects)
As we have indicated
earlier, Dooyeweerd says that both naïve and theoretical thought perceive
certain basic distinctions in the universe:
Our temporal empirical
horizon has a numerical aspect, a spatial aspect, an aspect of extensive
movement, an aspect of energy in which we experience the physico-chemical relations
of empirical reality, a biotic aspect, or that of organic life, an aspect of
feeling and sensation, a logical aspect, i.e., the analytical manner of
distinction in our temporal experience which lies at the foundation of all our
concepts and logical judgments. Then
there is a historical aspect in which we experience the cultural manner of
development of our societal life. This
is followed by the aspect of symbolical signification, lying at the foundation
of all empirical linguistic phenomena.
Furthermore there is also the aspect of social intercourse, with its
rules of courtesy, politeness, good breeding, fashion, and so forth. This experiential mode is followed by the
economic, aesthetic, juridical and moral aspects, and, finally, by the aspect of
faith or belief.
[41]
These are the “modal
aspects” which naive experience perceives (in unity) and which theoretical
thought studies. None can be reduced to
any of the others. Dooyeweerd's list quoted
above proceeds in an order of ascending complexity. He maintains that that order is irreversible,
because the more complex always presuppose the less complex, never vice
versa. Each aspect “can only exist upon
the foundation of the preceding.”
[42]
These aspects
are related to one another in various complicated ways; things, persons, social
structures, etc. may be theoretically analyzed according to their functions in
the different spheres. This system is
most impressive in its symmetry and balance, and if valid it provides a ready
guide to the analysis of many problems in philosophy and other disciplines.
It would take too long, of
course, for us to produce an elaborate critique of this system. At times the categories seem a bit arbitrary,
a bit too easy, as if the world had to be squeezed a bit in order to fit the
categories of the system.
[43]
In Dooyeweerd, though not in
some of the other members of the movement, there is a rather strange twist on
this doctrine of the modal spheres – that is that all the spheres are “aspects
of time itself.”
[44]
The diversity of modal aspects
... refers to a
supra-temporal, central unity and fulness of meaning in our experiential world,
which is refracted in the order of time into a rich diversity of modi, or
modalities of
meaning, just as sun-light
is refracted by a prism into a rich diversity of colors.
[45]
All the different kinds of “order” in the world are considered to be forms of time – numerical order, spatial relationships, the psychological feeling of duration, logical order between premise and conclusion, etc. Even rent is seen as a kind of “economic time.” [46] This scheme serves to underscore the temporal limitation upon theoretical thought (see above, section 5) for it discourages the view that some objects of thought (such as propositions, thoughts, numbers, etc.) are in some sense “timeless.” Yet this view seems to rest upon an equivocation in the use of “time” which has no basis in the actual meaning of the word. If Dooyeweerd wishes to redefine the word, of course, that is His privilege, but then it becomes all the more perplexing when Dooyeweerd asks us to confine our theorizing to the “temporal.” Does he mean that all our thinking must have some kind of “orderliness”? And does “supra-temporal” mean “disordered”? We find little clarity in this whole approach.
b. The Self
The
Note again the rather heavy
use of metaphor. The “center” in view is
clearly not a geometrical center; the “starting point” is not a geographical
starting point. The “concentration
point” is not a piece of freeze-dried experience. What then do these phrases mean? Two emphases seem to be found: (i) That the
heart or self in some sense “concentrates” all human experience. But in what sense? Does it mean that it is the heart which has all experiences? Does it mean that the heart furnishes the
universal concepts by which experience is “unified” (i.e., organized, accounted for, analysed, etc.)? Does it mean that all
experience presupposes the existence of the heart? Does it mean that any true account of human experience must
presuppose the existence of the heart?
Does it mean that the heart somehow perceives supra-temporally what the
senses perceive temporally? Dooyeweerd
seems to take the doctrine in all of these different senses at different
times. All of them, indeed, could be
true at the same time. But none of them
is so obvious that no argument is required; and different arguments are required for each one. Dooyeweerd avoids his responsibility to
defend these theses by resting on his uninterpreted metaphors. The other emphasis (ii) is that the heart or
self, since it “concentrates” all
human experience, is the necessary “starting point” for any account of human experience. But the phrases “starting point” and
“reference point” are, again, ambiguous.
How does the heart serve as a “starting point” for thought? Does this mean that I must accept the validity
of my present views until those are disproved?
Does it mean that in my consciousness somewhere there are some “innate
ideas” that I must accept if my
thinking is to be true? Does it mean
that thought must presuppose the existence
of the heart? Is the heart a sort of
faculty by which I learn propositions from a higher power? These and many more things might be meant by
the metaphors in question. Doubtless
Dooyeweerd would not wish to accept them all; but again he avoids arguing for
his specific hypothesis by resting his case upon an uninterpreted metaphor.
[52]
We should take note of
another teaching of Dooyeweerd on this subject, a teaching with which some
other members of the
If our heart were subject to
temporality, we would not possess an idea of eternity and we would not be able
to relate our temporal life to God in religious self-concentration.
[55]
The gist of these quotes
seems to be that if man's heart were not supra-temporal he could have no
fellowship with God. Two points must be
made: (i) This argument is clearly invalid. Would Dooyeweerd and Spier be willing to
say that we could not have an idea of God unless we were God? Then why should they say that we must be
eternal to have an idea of eternity?
Must we be omniscient to have an idea of omniscience? or omnipotent to
have an idea of omnipotence? (ii) The argument is not only invalid, but dangerous as well. It is precisely this kind of argument which
has been used throughout the history of thought to break down the
creator-creature distinction. Over and
over again, philosophers such as Plotinus, John Scotus Erigena, Thomas Aquinas
and others have argued that we cannot truly know God or have relationships with
God unless we share some sort of common being, some common attributes with
Him. Some have maintained, on the same
grounds, that although we do not have any attributes in common with God, we do
share the attributes of some semidivine being who in turn shares some
attributes with God. This sort of
argument lies behind the “great chain of being” idea found in Greek philosophy
(especially neo-Platonism), Gnosticism, and much current thought. The Biblical Christian should not admit for
one moment that men must be in any sense divine in order to know God.
[56]
God is perfectly able to reveal himself to His
creatures without making gods out of them.
We do not need to be eternal in order to have an idea of etemity; for
our God tells us what eternity is in
His word.
[57]
c. God
Dooyeweerd says much about
God as creator and lawgiver, and as that “origin” which must be presupposed by
all thought. As we have noted, however, Dooyeweerd thinks it is impossible to have
any concept of God, since in his view
there can be no theoretical knowledge of God and since he regards all concepts
as theoretical.
[58]
The whole idea of “knowing” God is rather obscure in the
But this is a most serious
kind of unclarity. Throughout the history
of human thought, men have attempted to declare God “unknown.” Fallen man finds
the concept of the unknown god most appealing; an unknown god does not speak,
does not command, does not judge or redeem, does not call man in question. Philosophers and religious people have gone
to great lengths to argue the unknowability of God. It has often been said that because God is
transcendent, supra-temporal, far above us, nothing may truly be said of Him. Every word, some have argued, limits
Him. Thus He may never be truly spoken
of. Scripture, however, confronts such
thinking and attacks it directly. What
the heathen worship as unknown, the apostle Paul clearly sets forth (Acts 17:23). Though God is exalted, high and lifted up, He
is not on that account unknown to man.
On the contrary; because He is
transcendent, because He is
sovereign, He engraves His reality upon every created thing, so that His
creatures cannot help but know Him
(Ps. 19, Rom. 1: 18-32). And this
knowledge is not an inarticulate, non-discursive knowledge; it is a knowledge
which can be truly articulated in words.
Even those without access to the Scriptures have knowledge of certain commands of God which can be truly
formulated in language (Rom. 1:32).
Doubtless the knowledge of God is more than the knowledge of verbal
formulae, but it most certainly does not exclude
such formulae. Doubtless, also,
there is a sense in which God is incomprehensible, in which our knowledge of
Him is non-exhaustive; but Scripture always assumes that it is possible to have
true knowledge of God which can be
expressed in true langauge.
Does Dooyeweerd maintain this clear scriptural witness against the concept of the unknown god? It would seem not. We are not saying that Dooyeweerd teaches the unknown God concept; but it is clear that he does not adequately guard against it. Everything that he says about the knowledge of God discourages, rather than encourages, the confident assertion that we know truth about God. When Dooyeweerd argues that God is supra-temporal and therefore cannot be spoken of theoretically, he is using a kind of argument that has historically been used to prove the total unknowability of God. In our view, all of this gives aid and comfort to the enemy. It may be that if pressed Dooyeweerd would allow that there can be some rational, discursive (though of course non-theoretical) knowledge of God; but almost everything he says tends in the opposite direction; and he uses certain arguments which, if valid, would invalidate not only theoretical knowledge of God but all knowledge of God.
This problem, we must add,
concerns not only Dooyeweerd but the movement generally as well. Not all members of the school accept
Dooyeweerd's account of supra-temporal selfhood, but all accept the time-bound
character of theoretical thought and all are rather unclear concerning the
possibility of rational knowledge of God.
Those in the
Law is obviously a crucial
concept for ihe “Philosophy of the Idea of Law.” It is by law, in the
How does “law” fit into the
“basic structure” which we discussed in the last section? Law, like God and the self, appears, first of
all, to be a supra-temporal reality which is “refracted” by the prism of time
into a great diversity of specific precepts.
The supratemporal reality is what Dooyeweerd calls “the central unity of
the divine law, namely, the commandment to love God and the neighbor.”
[62]
This central commandment takes many forms in
the temporal world. There are laws of
arithmetic, laws of physics, laws of biological growth, of history, language,
aesthetics, ethics, faith, etc. In the
first five modal spheres, the arithmetical, spatial, physical, biological, and
psychological,
the law is given directly by
God, and it cannot be broken. An animal
always acts according to its psychological instincts and does not deviate from
them. So also plants and inanimate
things are absolutely bound to the laws laid upon them by the Creator. On the other hand, in the higher, uniquely
human law spheres, the law has the character of a norm, that is, a rule for proper conduct which can be broken by a free choice. In our thinking we can transgress the laws of
thought by illogical reasoning. We make
lingual errors. We violate the social
laws, and act without love, etc. In such
ways human sin comes to expression.
[63]
It is important, however,
that we do not misunderstand concerning what aspects of each sphere are “laws”:
Some maintain that history
is never normative and can never be the standard of action; while others
maintain the very opposite, contending that history certainly is
normative. Which is true? The contention that history is normative is
true in the sense that historical action in its subjective side is determined by
historical norms. But history understood
as the subjective process of cultural unfolding is not normative. That is to say, one may never use the
historical facts, which are always subjective, as a norm for his conduct. In other words, the historical subject never
becomes the historical law, for every historical subject is always subject to
an historical law.
[64]
This
(a) What is the relation of law to God? Is the law something created, or is it
essentially divine? The formula that law
is the “boundary between God and the cosmos” obscures matters here, because one
would like to know what side of the boundary the boundary is on! The Scriptures teach that God is creator, the
world is His creature, and that there is nothing in between, no third
category. Where does “law” fit in this
structure?
Sometimes it appears that
for the
We are not saying that this
is the view of the
(b) The view that all physical, biological,
linguistic laws, etc., are temporal expressions of the supra-temporal law of
love: is that view anything more than a mythology? So far as we can see, there is no scriptural
basis for it; and can we really discover conclusions about God's love
commandment on any other basis than Scripture?
And if Dooyeweerd and the others have any other basis for this view,
they have not succeeded in making it clear.
They have not shown, in other words, either that the law of love is a
supra-temporal something, or that other laws are temporal “expressions” of it,
or even what it would mean to say, e.g.,
that the law of gravity is an expression of the law of love to God and
neighbor. Again, the philosophy seems to
have been seduced by tempting metaphors.
(c) Has God really told us the basic structure of
the universe? The
(d) Is it true that a study of logic, history,
linguistics, sociology, economics, aesthetics, jurisprudence, ethics, or
theology will yield norms beyond
those found in Scripture? The
8. SCRIPTURE AND THE WORD OF GOD
The above considerations
lead us naturally to a most important area of controversy – over the
The Word of God, like the
Law, is a supra-temporal reality which takes on various forms within our
temporal experience, on the
…radical and central,
biblical theme of creation, fall into sin and redemption by Jesus Christ as the
incarnate Word of God, in the communion of the Holy Spirit.
[68]
It is also called the “basic
motive” or “ground motive” of Scripture.
[69]
Dooyeweerd, however, points out that “it
should not be confounded with the ecclesiastical articles of faith…”3 – that is, when he talks about the “basic
motive of creation, fall, and redemption,” he is not talking about the doctrines of creation, fall, and
redemption. The doctrines of creation,
etc., can be studied theoretically; the “basic motive” may not be, for it is
addressed only to the heart of man and not to theoretical thought. It
... has a radical unity of meaning, which is related to the central unity of our human existence. It effects the true knowledge of God and ourselves, if our heart is really opened by the Holy Spirit so that it finds itself in the grip of God's Word and has become the prisoner of Jesus Christ. So long as this central meaning of the Word-revelation is at issue we are beyond the scientific problems both of theology and philosophy. Its acceptance or rejection is a matter of life or death to us, and not a question of theoretical reflection. [70]
Dooyeweerd's language here
suggests that the Word in its central meaning is a kind of power, a force that “grips” us and “effects” true knowledge of God
and self. Indeed, Dooyeweerd is fond of
speaking of “the central ground-motive of the biblical revelation as moving
power or dunamis...”
[71]
This language raises the
question of the extent to which this “Word” resembles other words. Is there any sense in which this Word, in its
central meaning, is appropriated by hearing, understanding, believing,
obeying? Or is the Word a kind of blind
force which “grips” a person and changes him, without giving him any
information, commands, questions, promises, etc.? Neo-orthodox theology tends
to conceive of the Word in the latter way, as does the “new hermeneutic.” In
those circles, the Word is conceived as a kind of power which imparts no new
ideas, gives no commands – in fact which might even come in the form of false language without loss to its
power. Dooyeweerd does not assert this
neo-orthodox view, but his language often seems to suggest something like it –
especially in view of his sharp contrasts between the Word and all doctrinal
expressions. The language of “gripping,”
etc.: Is this another of Dooyeweerd's
uninterpreted metaphors, or is that “gripping” perhaps all that can be said
about the relation of the Word to the believer?
Dooyeweerd's unclarity, again, leaves the door open for false doctrine.
And what about those
contrasts between heart knowledge and theoretical reflection, between “a matter
of life and death” and “a question of theoretical reflection”? Why is it that a matter of life and death may
never be also a question of theoretical reflection? Dooyeweerd seems to assume this is obvious;
but very often we expend our greatest theoretical energies on those problems we
care most about, and few of us find anything strange about that. The present ecological crisis, for example,
may be said to be, in a sense, “a matter of life and death”; but does not that
fact make all the more urgent the theoretical study of ecology? A
fortiori it would seem that if creation, fall and redemption are matters of
eternal life and death, then they ought to be studied – theoretically as
well as “naively.” Dooyeweerd offers no arguments to refute that logical
supposition. He appears to feel, here as
at other points in this thought which we have discussed, that creation, fall
and redemption are presuppositions of
theoretical thought and therefore incapable of theoretical analysis. But we have argued earlier, and still
maintain, that there is no reason why the presuppositions of theoretical
thought may not be analysed theoretically. Perhaps, indeed, the reason why the
Word in its central meaning cannot be analysed theoretically is that it is not
really a word – not really a linguistic communication from God to man. Perhaps, as we suspected above, the Word is a
kind of bare power which “effects” and “grips,” but does not inform, command or
question. Perhaps, indeed, the terms
“creation,” “fall” and “redemption,” used in this sort of context (and sharply
distinguished, as we have seen, from the doctrines
of creation, fall and redemption) are mere code-words to designate that
unnameable brute power. Perhaps it might
even be possible to substitute “x,” “y” and “z” for “creation,” “fall” and
“redemption.” If so, Dooyeweerd is quite far from scriptural ground. And he certainly has not clearly excluded
such an anti-scriptural view.
Let us now turn to the
Spier argues that the norms discovered in the
law-structure must be “positivized” or “specified”:
Love, for example, is a
non-native principle, but the principle of love does not itself tell us what is demanded in a concrete
instance. It does not always afford
parents an immediate solution to the concrete problems which arise in rearing
children.
[72]
Aesthetic “norms,”
historical “norms,” ethical “norms,” faith “norms” – all are given by God in
the law structure and may be discovered by men there; but the discovery of
these God-given norms is not the end of our labors. We must also apply these norms to the concrete situations where we must decide
how to behave. Now Scripture, on the
view of some members of the
“Faith norms” are norms of the “faith aspect,” the
highest of the modal spheres. It is not
entirely clear what this “faith aspect” is in the
This view raises serious
problems of two sorts. We must question
(a) the limitation of Scripture to the realm of “faith,” and (b) the concept of
Scripture as a “positivization” of the law structure.
(a) Even if we accept the unscriptural use of
“faith” to apply only to one aspect of man's life rather than to his central
heart relation to God, we must reject the view that the Bible speaks directly
only to this faith aspect. Scripture
itself contains no hint of any such limitation in its relevance to human
life. It addresses the heart of man (Prov. 4:23, other similar
references) and calls man to bring every
thought captive to the obedience of Christ (II Cor. 10:5), to do all to the glory of God (I Cor.
10:31). It speaks to all areas of man's
life. Doubtless there is a “focus” to
the biblical revelation, namely, the saving work of Jesus Christ. But the work of Christ is surely not
something which deals only with some “aspect” of human life; it reorients man's
whole existence.
Here is one of the
surprising paradoxes of the
The
The attempt to distinguish
sharply between “power Word” and “text Word” is characteristic of neo-orthodox
theology, the “new hermeneutic,” and other forms of modern thought. In these movements, the “text word” is always
deprecated as a merely human word, while the “power Word,” which conveys no
intelligible content, is exalted as the true Word of God. This scheme enables these modern theologians
to accept the fallibility of the Bible and to deny that God has ever spoken to
men in words and sentences. The
But even without explicitly
denying biblical authority, it is possible for an
(b) We also reject most decisively the concept of
Scripture as a “positivisation” of the law structure. We have already argued (above, section 7)
that the
De Graaff argues that he is
not a believer in “situation ethics.” He does not believe that “love” is all we
have “to go by.”
[77]
He stresses that we do, indeed, have Scripture
as an example of how we should
positivize the law structure. He
stresses, also, as the situationist does not, that there is a “law-structure,” and that this, too, helps us make
decisions. We feel, however, that these
differences between De Graaff and the situationists are not terribly
significant. As for the “example” of
Scripture, any situationist would agree that we have many “examples” of love
which are worthy of imitation up to a point.
These “examples,” however, may not be made into absolute rules, because
they do not anticipate the unique features of the situations we confront. De Graaff's view is not substantially
different from this. As for the “law
structure,” the situationist, as well as DeGraaff, admits that there are
certain constancies about the world and about human nature which we must take
into account in our decisions. But both
the situationist and DeGraaff would admit that these “constancies” do not
enable us to analyse exhaustively every situation before it occurs. Thus, for DeGraaff as well as for the
situationist, there are no “rules” by which we can determine beforehand what is
right and what is wrong. DeGraaff would
say against the situationist that at one time (the biblical period) there were such rules. But for our own time and culture, DeGraaff
and the situationist agree on the essential nature of moral decision.
The Reformed Christian will
not need much help from us to see how unscriptural this view is. Scripture is not a mere application of God's
law to a particular situation; Scripture is
the law of God. Scripture is the
very Word which proceeds from God's mouth, the “breath” of God (II Tim. 3:16,
Greek text). The “law” of God referred
to in Scripture is, not some “law structure” in the created world, but the written Word of God (or, occasionally,
as possibly in Psalm 119:91, God's spoken
Word). It is not addressed to only
one culture: the culture of Abraham's day was very different from that of
David's, or Jesus', or Paul's. Yet Jesus
said of the whole Old Testament that
“the Scripture cannot be broken” (John 10:35) and He showed by His use of
Scripture that every part of the Old Testament was binding upon the culture of
His day. It is true, of course, that in
the process of the history of redemption, God's requirements on men do
change. The dietary laws of the Old
Testament are not literally binding on New Testament believers. But changes of this sort do not come about
because of the “process of cultural change.” They come about because of God's
specific appointment (cf., e.g., Mark 7:19).
Furthermore, we concede that scriptural commands may vary in their application as culture changes: e.g., I
Pet. 2:13 now applies to highway speed laws which did not exist in the first
century. But this variance is a variance
in the application of scriptural commands;
it is not a change which contradicts Scripture in the interest of re-applying
some more fundamental “law-word.”
It may be wrong to say
that the doctrine of scriptural authority is the “most important” doctrine of
our faith; but it is certainly true that if this doctrine is rejected, no other
doctrine can be established. We believe
that the approach of some
If, as we have suggested,
many
Dooyeweerd suggests that the
term “theology” has been used ambiguously through the history of the church:
On the one hand, this word
is used in the sense of the true knowledge of God and of ourselves, and it
refers to the holy doctrine of the Church.
As such it cannot have a theoretical, scientific meaning, as will become
evident presently. But on the other
hand, Christian theology refers to a theoretical explanation of the articles of
faith in their scientific confrontation with the texts of Holy Writ and with
heretical views.
[78]
We have already discussed
Dooyeweerd's sharp distinction between the heart-knowledge of God and the self
on the one hand and theoretical thought on the other. It is on the basis of this sharp distinction
that Dooyeweerd argues that theology must be either one or the other – either heart knowledge of God and the
self, or theoretical knowledge. To
combine these ideas, in his view, is to use the term “theology”
ambiguously. However, since we have
rejected Dooyeweerd's sharp distinction, we have no reason to say that theology
must fall into one category or the other, and therefore we have no reason to
think that the historical usage has been in this respect ambiguous. Historically, theologians have felt that the
true knowledge of God and the self was not sharply distinguishable from
scientific knowledge, that theoretical work in fact could contribute to the
knowledge of God and the self in important ways, so that some theoretical
knowledge might actually be knowledge of God and the self. This is not to say, of course, that the
theoretical thinker is a necessary mediator between God and man. “Simple” people do know God, and often much
better than sophisticated theoreticians.
The knowledge of God is by no means equivalent to academic knowledge of God.
But the latter, if faithfully carried out, is an aspect of the former,
and can be used of God to broaden and deepen the heartknowledge of any
believer.
Dooyeweerd, however, by his
heart knowledge/theoretical thought dichotomy, is forced to make a choice:
either theology is heart knowledge or it is theoretical knowledge. He chooses the latter, but without, in our
opinion, an analysis of the work of theology adequate to justify his choice. Having made this choice, he asks what the
subject matter of theology is to be. He
considers the possibility that theology provides a comprehensive, total world
view, which shows all the relations of the different modal aspects of human
experience. He rejects this alternative
– again, in our opinion, with no serious argument and no serious analysis of
the nature and task of theology. Thus he
comes to the conclusion that theology is a special science, the science of the
“faith aspect.” It is not a study of God, for God is beyond theoretical thought
in Dooyeweerd's view. It is not a study
of God's Word, for God's Word is also beyond theoretical thought. Nor is it a study of Scripture: for Scripture
as a vehicle of the power word is beyond theoretical study, and Scripture as a
textual positivization of faith norms is directly valid only for its own
culture and circumstances. Theology,
indeed, can benefit from the study of Scripture, but only (or so it would seem
from the doctrine of Scripture which we discussed in the last section) as an
example of how the faith norms can be applied to a particular situation.
This view of theology is
essentially an implication of the
What, then, is philosophy on
the
At the risk of being
monotonous, we must again reject this view in no uncertain terms. For in this scheme, Dooyeweerd has
essentially rejected the rule of Scripture over the work of the philosopher,
and has given to the philosopher virtual final authority over Christian faith
and life. Dooyeweerd indeed denies that
a Christian philosophy should be so imperialistic! Yet upon analysis, it appears that
Dooyeweerd's philosophy is as imperialistic as any philosophy that man has
invented. The philosopher, by virtue of
his superior knowledge of the law structure of the universe, may dictate to all
other sciences what they may and may not say; and he does not so dictate on the
basis of what Scripture says (he never, as
philosopher, derives any thought
content from Scripture); rather, he says what he says on the basis of his own
expertise and on the assertion of a vague divine “power” directing him in some
way. The philosopher, therefore, has
virtual autonomy; and Dooyeweerd's polemics against the “autonomy of
theoretical thought” lose all force. We
urgently warn God's people not to become entangled in such a philosophical
bondage. Let us submit our philosophizing,
rather, with all our thinking, to the words
which our Lord has spoken to us; for only those words tell us the truth
that sets us free (John 8:31f.).
Our remaining observations
can be more brief, since the basic picture should now be clear. Obviously, if the
Members of the
The change in the commitment
to Scripture is understandable in the light of our previous discussion. The elimination of commitment to the Reformed
Standards stems from an
We are therefore glad to say
that later in 1971 the N.U.C.S. Board reversed its position on this matter and
recommended that the basis of the organization be the Scriptures of the Old and
New Testaments as explicated in the Reformed Standards. Yet we are certain that adherents of the
The
We do not deny that
Christian schools and other such institutions are legitimate and important; but
we must question the legitimacy of the above distinction between church
institute and visible body of Christ. We
do not find it in Scripture. Ephesians 4
speaks of the “body” and explains that that body grows through the gifts which
God has given to each member. At the
head of this list of gifts are “apostles,” “prophets,” “evangelists,” “pastors
and teachers.” These are the men whom God has appointed “for the perfecting of
the saints unto the work of ministering, unto the building up of the body of
Christ” (vs. 12). In this passage, the
apostles, prophets, evangelists and pastor-teachers are the leaders and
edifiers, not merely of the “church institution,” but of the “body of Christ”
itself. This passage knows of no distinction
between the two. The officers of the
institutional church are the officers of the body of Christ. The officers of the one are charged with the
oversight of the other. This is the
regular scriptural pattern: in the New Testament, the “Church” is that
“organization” ruled by God through His elders and deacons, wherein the worship
of God in prayer, preaching, sacrament and offering is carried on. The New Testament knows of no other visible
form of the “Church.” The
Christian schools and other
organizations, no doubt, manifest the “unity of the body of Christ” in various
ways. Christians who are “one in Christ”
will demonstrate their love in all areas of life. Paul, indeed, later in the Ephesian letter,
makes this very point with regard to family life (Eph. 5:22 - 6:4) and the
master-servant relation (6:5-9). These
points, however, do not make the school, family or business into visible forms
of the body of Christ coordinate with the institutional church. In the New Testament, the institutional
church is the visible body of Christ.
This is not to say, of
course, that all Christian organizations must be ecclesiastically
controlled. The institutional church,
indeed, must apply the word of God to all areas of human life, and must call
such “Christian organizations” to account when they move in unscriptural
directions. But the institutional church
is not called upon by God to control schools, unions, governments. When we grant such “independence” to these
organizations, however, we need not at the same time grant them the status of
“visible body of Christ.”
Now the
As we have noted (above,
section 7), the
If, then, sin extends over
all of these entities, then redemption does as well. And if redemption does as well, so the
argument goes, then evangelism must also.
That is to say, evangelism should not merely be the preaching of the
good news to individuals; rather it should include the restructuring of social
institutions as well. It should even
involve the “subduing of the earth” mentioned in the “cultural mandate” of
Genesis 1:28, since it should include the removal of the effects of sin from
the creation. And does not Colossians
1:20 say that Christ will “reconcile all things unto himself”?
We feel, however, that the
Now just as sin is an
exclusively personal category, so are faith and repentance. A tree or rock cannot repent; only a person
can. A labor union or Christian school
cannot believe in Christ; only persons can.
We maintain, therefore, that
evangelism, too, is an exclusively personal category; for evangelism is
essentially the calling upon persons to repent of their sins and believe on
Christ. Doubtless, “redemption” in a larger
sense includes other elements than evangelism.
The New Testament, however, puts all its stress upon the exhorting of
persons to faith in Christ. Normal
cultural pursuits, according to I Corinthians 9, for instance, must take second
place to the preaching of the Gospel, because of the urgency of man's plight
and, more basically, because of a divinely ordained priority.
It is most dangerous, we
believe, so to expand the concepts of “sin,” “repentance,” “faith,” and
“evangelism” that their personal focus is lost.
If “sin,” for instance, becomes anything less than personal
disobedience, hatred, rebellion; if it is made into a kind of general disorder
in the world as such; then it is not what Scripture says it is. In the language
of Cornelius Van Til, sin is “ethical,” not “metaphysical.” It is a personal
heart attitude, not merely a weakness of constitution. If “sin” and the other above terms are
expanded to include the whole universe, then the very Gospel of Christ will be
lost in the verbiage. We believe that
there is at least a tendency in this direction in the
The
As we mentioned earlier,
Prof. Cornelius Van Til has for many years been considered by many to be in
league with the
Van Til now feels that he
does not. Dooyeweerd's “transcendental
method,” especially as Dooyeweerd has “sharpened” it in his later writings,
rejects all merely “transcendent” or “dogmatic” criticism of non-Christian
philosophy. “Transcendent” criticism is
criticism which merely shows that the philosophy under consideration conflicts
with Christianity. “Transcendental”
criticism, on the other hand, is a “critical inquiry into the universally valid conditions, which alone make theoretical thought possible, and
which are required by the immanent structure of this thought
itself.”
[87]
What does Dooyeweerd find in
that structure?
The antinomies which result in theoretical thought from disregarding the irreducible nature of the fundamental experiential modes, show that there are structural states of affairs in our experience which cannot be neglected with impunity.
These states of affairs can,
indeed, furnish a common basis for every philosophical discussion since they
are transcendental data and as such have a general validity for every
philosophy.
[88]
Dooyeweerd appears to
assume, however, that these “states of affairs” are something less than the
reality of the triune God of Scripture.
To introduce God at this stage of the argument would, in Dooyeweerd's
view, be a form of “transcendent” criticism, a form of dogmatism. We must, rather, first show the non-Christian
philosopher that theoretical thought presupposes naive experience and cosmic
time; secondly we must show him that all of this presupposes the existence of a
self which transcends time; thirdly we must show that this self, itself, presupposes
something beyond itself, namely “an origin.” It is at that third step that the
confrontation occurs between biblical and non-biblical ground motives. Van Til replies:
My contention over against
this is, Dr. Dooyeweerd, that this confrontation must be brought in at the
first step, and that if it is not brought in at the first step it cannot be
brought in properly at the third step. But to say this amounts to saying that there
is only one step, or rather that there
are no steps at all.
[89]
Van Til's point is that
Dooyeweerd, by his three-stage scheme, leads the non-Christian philosopher to
believe that one can reason out the existence of cosmic time and supra-temporal
selfhood without presupposing the God of Scripture. Further, Dooyeweerd, even at step three,
insists only that the unbeliever recognize the existence of “an” origin, “an”
ultimate – one which need not be the true God at all! In other words, Dooyeweerd never seriously challenges the
unbelieving philosopher to accept the God of Scripture. He constantly assumes
that the unbeliever is able to reason perfectly well without this
assumption. Therefore Dooyeweerd in fact
concedes what he claims to challenge, namely, the autonomy of theoretical
thought. Or rather: Dooyeweerd does
challenge the independence of theoretical thought from naive experience,
supra-temporal selfhood, and ultimate origination; but he does not challenge
that autonomy which is far more significant – the pretended autonomy of sinful
man over against the living and true God!
Van Til also offers
criticisms of matters which we have already discussed, such as the “conceptual”
contentlessness of Dooyeweerd's
transcendental ground motives
[90]
and the
supra-temporal selfhood as the “central sphere of occurrence.”
[91]
For now we are
content to endorse Van Til's basic critique of Dooyeweerd's stance vis-a-vis
the non-Christian philosopher. Scripture
allows for no “neutral” sphere in which we may reason out our philosophical
conclusions without reference to God. In
Scripture all facts confront man directly with God, for all facts are what they
are because of God's plan. To suggest
that the unbeliever may examine certain states of affairs without considering
the relation of those facts to God is to concede the Christian's entire case at
the outset.
But what more could we
expect from a philosopher who has also compromised the scriptural teachings on
so many other matters! This philosophy
is saturated throughout by attempted autonomy!
We believe that we have now
fully substantiated our initial assertion that the
1. This movement is important and must be evaluated even by those who are not experts in philosophy.
2. Genuine biblical elements in the philosophy give it a powerful appeal to Reformed Christians.
3. Yet the philosophy is both intellectually and doctrinally deficient.
4. Dooyeweerd's “sharp” distinction between naive experience and theoretical thought is unclear in its definition, resting for its persuasiveness upon uninterpreted metaphors.
5. Dooyeweerd's limitation of science to the
world of temporal experience rests on no substantial basis and opens the door
for1 a Kantian concept of an “unknown God.
6. Dooyeweerd's basic metaphysical scheme, modal
spheres/supratemporal self/God, is poorly argued and threatens to1 make both God and man correlative
aspects of a common scale of being.
7. The
8. Some members of this school posit a sharp
dichotomy between the text of Scripture and the Word of God. They make of Scripture nothing more than an application of natural law to one sphere
of human life for one particular culture and period of history.
9. This school of thought absolves the philosopher of any responsibility to the verbal content of Scripture and gives to the philosopher virtually unlimited authority over the realm of theoretical knowledge.
10. This movement also prevents any criticism of scientific theories on the basis of scriptural exegesis.
11. The influence of this movement in the area of Christian education has been harmful in very important respects.
12. The
13. The
14. Dooyeweerd fails to confront unbelieving philosophy with the total bankruptcy of its position.
These are very serious
criticisms, and we do not make them lightly.
We recognize that this movement has many supporters in the Orthodox
Presbyterian Church and much influence in other churches and Christian
organizations. We consider it most
important that Christians in our presbytery become informed concerning this
movement and that they take firm stands against its unscriptural emphases. We are convinced that if the goals of the
Our denomination has long
been known for its devotion to doctrinal purity. The time has come for it to speak out on the
unscriptural notions herein described.
It is all too easy for us to confine our doctrinal concern to those
movements which have no influence in our own circles. When a movement of this sort comes close to
home, that is when doctrinal purity requires courage. We recommend therefore, that presbytery issue
an official warning against the unscriptural tendencies of the
I. Representative
Works of the
DeGraaff, A., and Seerveld,
C. Understanding
the Scriptures.
Dooyeweerd, H. A New
Critique of Theoretical Thought.
_______. “Cornelius Van Til and the Transcendental
Critique of Theoretical Thought.” In
Geehan, E. R., ed.
_______. In the Twilight of Western
Thought.
Hart, H.. The
Challenge of OurAge.
Knudsen, R. D. “Progressive and Regressive Tendencies in
Christian Apologetics.” In Geehan, E.
R., ed. op. cit. (see Dooyeweerd).
Mekkes, J. P. A. “Knowing,” in Ibid.
Olthuis, J., et al.
Out of Concern for the
Church.
Schrotenboer, P. “The Bible, Word of Power.” International
Reformed Bulletin,XI, 32-33 (Jan., Apr., 1968). Discussion continued in XII, 38 (July, 1969).
Spier, J. M.
An Introduction to Christian
Philosophy.
_______. What
Is CalvinisticPhilosophy?
Taylor, E. L. H. The
Christian Philosophy of Law, Politics and the State.
_______. Reformation or Revolution.
II. Works Critical of the Movement
Jellema, D. “The Philosophy of Vollenhoven and
Dooyeweerd.” Calvin Forum XIX (1954), 169-172, 192-194. Discussion continued in next volume.
Nash, R. Dooyeweerd
and the Amsterdwn Philosophy.
Shepherd, N. “The Doctrine of Scripture in the
Dooyeweerdian Philosophy of the Cosmonomic Idea.” The
Christian Reformed Outlook XXI, 2, 3 (Feb., Mar., 1971), 18-21 of XXI, 2; 20-23
of XXI, 3.
________. “God's Word of Power.” In International
Reformed Bulletin XII, 38 (July, 1969), 17-20. (Reply to Schrotenboer's
article listed above, with further reply by Schrotenboer).
Steen, P. The
Idea of Religious Transcendence in the Philosophy of Herman Dooyeweerd.- With
Reference to its Significance for Reformed Theology (Unpublished Th. D.
dissertation, Westminster Theological Seminary, 1970).
[92]
Van Til, C. Replies to Dooyeweerd and Knudsen in Geehan,
E. R., ed., op.cit. (see Dooyeweerd above).
Young, W. “Herman Dooyeweerd.” In Hughes, P., ed. Creative
Minds in Contemporary Theology.