You May Safely Ignore the Philosophers, but not the Theologians

Edwards:

The things of divinity not only concern ministers, but are of infinite importance to all Christians. It is not with the doctrines of divinity as it is with the doctrines of philosophy and other sciences. These last are generally speculative points, which are of little concern in human life; and it very little alters the case as to our temporal or spiritual interests, whether we know them or not. Philosophers differ about them, some being of one opinion, and others of another. And while they are engaged in warm disputes about them, others may well leave them to dispute among themselves, without troubling their heads much about them; it being of little concern to them whether the one or the other be in the right.

But it is not thus in matters of divinity. The doctrines of this nearly concern everyone. They are about those things which relate to every man's eternal salvation and happiness.

—Jonathan Edwards, Sermons and Discourses 1739–1742 (vol. 22 in the Works of Jonathan Edwards; ed. Harry S. Stout; New Haven: Yale University, 2003), 92.

Philosophy in the Ancient World

"In the ancient world, philosophy means something like what we mean by 'worldview.'"

—D. A. Carson and Douglas J. Moo, An Introduction to the New Testament, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005), 33.

Discovering What to Put First

Blaise Pascal: "The last thing one discovers in composing a work is what to put first."

—Taken from Mark Trendinnick, Writing Well (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 146.

God Does All, and We Do All

Jonathan Edwards gives the most profound explanation I've ever read or heard for the interplay between divine sovereignty and human willing and acting (the italics are mine):

In efficacious grace we are not merely passive, nor yet does God do some, and we do the rest. But God does all, and we do all. God produces all, and we act all. For that is what he produces, namely, our own acts. God is the only proper author and fountain; we only are the proper actors. We are, in different respects, wholly passive and wholly active.

In the Scriptures the same things are represented as from God and from us. God is said to convert, and men are said to convert and turn. God makes a new heart, and we are commanded to make us a new heart. God circumcises the heart, and we are commanded to circumcise our own hearts; not merely because we must use the means in order to the effect, but the effect itself is our act and our duty. These things are agreeable to that text, "God worketh in you both to will and to do."

"God does all, and we do all. God produces all, and we act all." Now that is profound. Do you see it? If you don't, O ponder it long and hard. Peer as deep down as you can into this deep mystery! And ask yourself if this is not what Phil. 2:12-13 means when it says to "work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for his good pleasure."

So there is not the tension that some might think. God really does all, and we really do all.

—"Concerning Efficacious Grace," in Miscellaneous Observations on Important Theological Subjects (vol. 2, Works; Banner of Truth: Carlisle, 1997), 557.

A Leaky Brain and The Four Causes

If you're like me, you regularly experience frustration for forgetting things you shouldn't. For me, it's almost a way of life and, I confess, a great grief. In the Bible, remembering, particularly when it comes to God's deeds,  promises, and warnings, is a duty and virtue. We don't get to say to God as an excuse for disobedience, "But I forgot." That's just self-indictment. Forgetting God's works and words and ways is damning (e.g., Ps. 78:10-11).

Now although I don't want to overdue a recent episode of forgetfulness and make it some moral monster in my life, yet not being able to recall Aristotle's four causes in some recent reading, which causes I'd reviewed a dozen times in times past, feels like a character flaw. At the least, it's a weakness and grief to me. I've tried to lay up the four causes because in theology and philosophy the terms come up so often.

So, for the sake of review and attempting to make the four causes permanent furniture in my brain, here they are, stated simply by R. C. Sproul in The Consequences of Ideas (Wheaton: Crossway, 2000, p. 48):

Aristotle posited four distinct types of causes that produce changes in things. These causes are 1) the formal cause, which determines what a thing is; 2) the material cause, that out of which a thing is made; 3) the efficient cause, that by which a thing is made; and 4) the final cause, that for which a thing is made, or its purpose.

There they are, on the screen, perhaps still not in my brain. But now I have easier reference at my desk when my leaky brain leaks again.

Edwards' Trinitarianism

Here is a good summary of Jonathan Edwards' trinitarianism from his Discourse on the Trinity (Works, vol. 21, Yale, 131):

This I suppose to be that blessed Trinity that we read of in the holy Scriptures. The Father is the Deity subsisting in the prime, unoriginated and most absolute manner, or the Deity in its direct existence. The Son is the Deity generated by God's understanding, or having an idea of himself, and subsisting in that idea. The Holy Ghost is the Deity subsisting in act, or the divine essence flowing out and breathed forth, in God's infinite love to and delight in himself. And I believe the whole divine essence does truly and distinctly subsist both in the divine idea and divine love, and that therefore each of them are properly distinct persons.

I think that there are more biblical foundations in Edwards' understanding of the Trinity than is sometimes supposed. I wonder if he's not be heard as he ought regarding certain angles on the Trinity in Scripture that have not been noted enough. I'm less sure about Edwards' philosophical foundations, although even here it seems to me that he always attempts to think within the conceptual world of the Scriptures. His brief Discourse on the Trinity is certainly worth reading and pondering. At the very least, one comes away appreciating texts that are plainly trinitarian but perhaps too often overlooked.

Unholy Diversion

Section VIII of Pascal's Pensees, entitled "Diversion," includes these two profound sentences:

"Being unable to cure death, wretchedness and ignorance, men have decided, in order to be happy, not to think about such things" (#133).

"I have often said that the sole cause of man's unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room" (#136).

I poked around in this portion of the Pensees today, having recieved some stimulus over at Between Two Worlds to do so.  There is much in the Pensees to think about and heed for the modern American.  And I confess feeling much more at home with Pascal than with most Americans who are constantly worked into a dither about this and about that inconsequential distraction.  Perhaps you'll consider staying home in the quiet of your room to take up and meditate upon the Pensees by Pascal, especially the section on diversion.  But be prepared: to face your awful self, this awful world, and that awful world to come.

Free Will or Necessity?

Is the man Messiah Jesus free?  Does he experience perfect liberty in his choices or not?  And is he capable of doing something sinful?  Is it necessary that he always do what is good and right and true?

These questions (and their answers) have a bearing on the relation between free will and necessity in man.  If we are truly free, what necessarily follows?  Is perfect liberty inconsistent with the idea of things necessarily flowing from that liberty?

Jonathan Ewards writes this in miscellany 116a:

Although it be said that 'tis most absurd that there [should] be liberty and yet necessity, that these are most inconsistent; that is, that there should be liberty, when yet 'tis impossible in nature but that the things will be: yet 'tis not worth the while to dispute it, as if liberty and necessity were contraries, for they are not; and 'tis most certain, that that which in any proper sense is called liberty is certainly consistent with absolute necessity.  Thus the glorified [saints], or at least the glorified man Jesus, has as much liberty as any man; but yet 'tis absolutely impossible that he should sin.

Are you free?  That is to say, Are you unable to sin?