Christian Nationalism: A Summary in Examples and Traits

posted by R. Fowler White

Though usage of the term Christian nationalism is relatively new in American public discourse, it is an ideology and movement that is both on the rise and not yet definitively or fully formed. Given that Christian nationalism is a still-developing phenomenon, it may be useful to survey the phenomenon as it has appeared in history in various times and degrees, both outside and inside the U.S. Several examples are cited below.

1. Ireland: From the late 19th century until the late 20th century when its government was made legally secular, the Roman Catholic Church was a defining and constitutional part of Irish national identity.

2. Korea: As leaders of Korea’s independence movement against Japanese occupation (1910–1945), Christians established a connection between Korean national identity and Christianity that in measure still exists today in South Korea.

3. South Vietnam: In the 1950s and early 1960s, South Vietnam’s president gave the Roman Catholic Church a privileged position while using force to control Buddhists and limit their freedom. The president’s position was a contributing factor to his eventual downfall.

4. Hungary: In 2010 the Hungarian Prime Minister’s party won two-thirds of the National Assembly seats. In 2011 that assembly passed a new constitution that included recognition of Christianity’s role in preserving its nationhood and a need for “spiritual and intellectual renewal.” During the Syrian refugee crisis, the Hungarian government opposed the resettlement of asylum seekers in Europe, based in part on religion. In December 2020 the National Assembly passed a constitutional amendment that restricted adoptions to heterosexual couples and mandated that children be raised with “values based on our Christian culture.”

5. The U.S. has a long history of Christian Nationalism phenomena in various expressions. For instance: 

a) In 1791 the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution prohibited Congress from “making any law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” By that amendment, Congress was prohibited from establishing a national church, such as the Church of England or the Church of Denmark. Interestingly, however, when the First Amendment was ratified, it did not forbid states from designating a denomination as their official church. In fact, nine of the thirteen states had formal ties with a Christian denomination. Two examples: Connecticut named the Congregational Church as its official church, a relationship that was not changed until the 1830s. Delaware had a constitutional provision requiring a Christian profession to hold public office.

b) In the 1930s through the 1950s, Christian Nationalism became prominent in a push by anti-New Deal business interests that wanted to link American capitalism to Christianity. In 1956, during the Cold War, Congress adopted the words “In God We Trust” as the national motto and added the words “under God” to the Pledge of Allegiance. (The identity of “God” in these phrases was not defined, at least not beyond “Nature’s God” and the “Creator” mentioned in the Declaration of Independence.)

c) From the 1960s to the present: The rise of televangelism in the U.S., especially among Pentecostal-Charismatics, saw a new era of Christian Nationalism phenomena.

i) In 1979 Jerry Falwell founded The Moral Majority to oppose certain cultural trends, especially the women’s movement, the gay rights movement, and legalized abortion. It also lobbied for prayer in public schools, increased defense spending, a strong anti-communist foreign policy, and continued U.S. support for the State of Israel. The Moral Majority led a new generation of Christian fundamentalists and the so-called Christian Right to go beyond opposing selected cultural trends into engaging the political arena. The organization, having quickly grown to several million members, was credited with playing an important role in Ronald Reagan’s election in 1980. This election bonded Evangelicalism and American exceptionalism together, helping to cement the close relationship between Evangelicals and the Republican Party. 

ii) In 1989 The Christian Coalition was founded by Pentecostal televangelist Pat Robertson. Directed by Ralph Reed, it effectively replaced The Moral Majority as it promoted political action by Christians. The development of The Christian Coalition was followed in 1996 by the founding of The Center for Reclaiming America for Christ (CRAC) by D. James Kennedy, a founding board member of The Moral Majority. The purpose of CRAC was to encourage Christians to become involved in politics, guided by Kennedy’s belief that Christians needed to focus not only on the Great Commission through the church, but on the Cultural Mandate in the public square. The Center’s focus was on issues such as abortion, pornography, homosexuality, evolution, and religious liberty. Though CRAC closed after Kennedy’s death in 2007, it was relaunched in 2010 with permission from but no affiliation with D. James Kennedy Ministries (formerly known as Coral Ridge Ministries).

iii) In the first quarter of the 21st century, Christian Nationalism in the U.S. has reached new levels. Since the 2016 presidential election, it has been closely associated in public discussion with Donald Trump. After the 2020 presidential election, many in Christian Nationalism came to Washington, DC to take part in “Jericho Marches” in December 2020 and in the January 6, 2021 events at U.S. Capitol. There, they engaged in prayer, praise, speaking in tongues, and blowing rams’ horns following Israel’s example of marching around Jericho in Joshua 6. The prominent place that Pentecostals and Charismatics have in Christian Nationalism is again to be noted.

iv) Since 2020, Christian Nationalism has increasingly been the target of criticism, and the Christian Nationalism (-ist) label itself has been adopted by its thought leaders and supporters. According to reputable national surveys, in 2024, three in ten Americans identified as Christian Nationalism adherents (10%) or sympathizers (20%). Meanwhile, 53% of Republicans identified as either Christian Nationalism adherents (20%) or sympathizers (33%), compared with about two in ten or fewer Independents (6% adherents and 16% sympathizers) and Democrats (5% adherents and 11% sympathizers).

In light of the preceding historical survey of what has been generally labeled as Christian Nationalism in the U.S. and beyond, it might be helpful to summarize the prevailing traits of the Christian Nationalism phenomenon as it continues to take shape in a more definitive form.

1. Christian Nationalism affirms the U.S. is a Christian nation and also that the government should adopt a specifically Christian cultural template as the official culture of the U.S. In general, this means that, in contrast to secularism, Christian Nationalism affirms that human societies require an anchor that transcends all things in them to hold them together. Therefore, the U.S. should affirm that the required transcendent anchor is the God of the Christian faith, with the Christian faith ordinarily being defined in keeping with historic Protestantism.

2. Christian Nationalism affirms that Christianity should have a privileged position in the public square. It does not reject the First Amendment, and it argues that “the wall of separation between church and state” did not come about until the 1947 SCOTUS case Everson v. Board of Education. That case defined the First Amendment in terms of a “wall of separation between church and state” that applied to every level of government, not just to the national (federal) level. The Amendment was thus interpreted as effectively separating church and all levels of government.

3. Christian Nationalism affirms that the U.S. has been and must remain a Christian nation. This position is not merely Christian Nationalism’s interpretation of the U.S. past, but is also its prescription for the U.S. future. Given its predominantly Anglo-Protestant past, Christian Nationalism urges that the U.S. must preserve that heritage to keep its identity and its freedom.

The CREC, Neither Catholic Nor Reformed, Just Muddled (Special Attention Given to Paedo-communion)

posted by R. Fowler White

Ron DiGiacomo at Philosophical Theology has articulated some concerns well worth our pondering about the doctrine and practice of the Communion of Reformed Evangelical Churches (CREC). The opening two paragraphs are provocative:

If a renegade Roman Catholic communion held to the Westminster standards, Roman Catholicism would still not be a Reformed communion. That’s because what defines Roman Catholicism is a blend of her official doctrine and practices the magisterium permits. So it is with The Communion of Reformed and Evangelical Churches (CREC).

Although the CREC would like to identify with Reformed theology and claims to be shaped by that tradition, the communion is not Reformed in any sense of the word. Rather, the CREC is a hodgepodge of religious traditions and disciplines that even include elements of Roman Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy and Federal Vision. Its leaders are at best muddled.

To read the whole essay, follow the link below:

https://philosophical-theology.com/2025/05/31/the-crec-neither-catholic-nor-reformed-just-muddled-special-attention-given-to-paedo-communion/

Believers’ Children as Disciples: More Thoughts

posted by R. Fowler White

In a Facebook post on 06-20-2025, Lane Keister, aka “greenbaggins,” wrote:

The word “disciple” is not equal in meaning to “Christian” or “believer” in at least several places in the New Testament. Judas Iscariot was a disciple, but not a Christian. In the Great Commission, we are commanded to make disciples. We cannot make people Christians. Therefore the word “disciple” does not mean “believer” or “Christian” there either. Instead, it means “learner.” How do we make people into disciples, according to the Great Commission? Baptism and teaching. This makes the Great Commission a rather strong argument for infant baptism. Infants are phenomenal learners, and they learn about trust and relationships. Baptize them, therefore, and teach them in age-appropriate ways.

Since I agree substantially with Lane, I’d like to add to his line of thinking. I do so because, as I read his comments, I realized that I had reached similar conclusions while considering Paul’s instructions to parents and children in Eph 6 and Col 3. I’d submit that it’s best to interpret the apostle’s instruction in those and similar texts as applying the Great Commission to professing parents and their children. Details follow.

First, leaving aside the baptism question for the moment, I’ll focus on the duty of Christian parents (obviously, fathers in particular) in Eph 6:4; Col 3:21. No doubt, in light of his commission from Christ, the Apostle counts parents in those texts as disciples of Jesus, and he elaborates on their duty as disciples to their children, saying “raise them in the training and instruction of the Lord.” If those parents wondered about the content of that training and instruction, the context of Paul’s words tells them that the content included (broadly) all that pleases the Lord and (specifically, at least) the fifth of the Lord’s Ten Commandments. Comparing Paul’s directive to Christ’s Great Commission, it’s more than credible to say that the Apostle expected parents to teach their children to obey all that Jesus commanded, covering His law of love (even in its particulars) and His gospel of forgiveness (doubtless in His specific calls for repentance and faith). From these considerations, I have warrant to conclude that if children are to be trained and taught to obey the commands of Jesus, believing parents would be following the Apostle’s lead and viewing their children as disciples of Jesus.

Second, as we might anticipate from the preceding discussion, the Apostle’s instruction to children is in harmony with his instruction to parents. Paul obliges children to learn and keep “the first commandment with [its] promise” of well-being and longevity on the earth. Once again, seeing the shared terms and concepts in Paul’s instruction and in Christ’s Commission, I’m constrained to infer that the Apostle is applying Christ’s Commission to believing parents and their children and, by doing so, treating both as Christ’s disciples.

Third and last, it is helpful to coordinate the observations above with the words of Jesus concerning the actions of parents who brought their children to Him. Jesus emphatically endorsed the actions of parents who brought their children to Him that they might submit them to His ministry of prayer and blessing. I find myself pushed to ask this: if Jesus endorsed such actions when He ministered on earth, what should deter me from believing that He does the same now as He ministers from heaven? I notice too that when Jesus received children under His ministry while on earth, He reasserted both the promise and the warning of God’s covenant. He told hearers that the kingdom would be granted to those who received it like a child, but that it would be withheld from those who did not so receive it. Today, as He receives children under His ministry while in heaven, He continues to promise the kingdom to all who receive it by faith and to warn those who turn away of the wrath to come.

In light with Lane’s thoughts, then, when I understand the apostles’ instruction to parents and children in the light of the Great Commission, it is clearer to me how Paul’s teaching applies Christ’s Great Commission and, more specifically, His teaching on discipleship. The children of believers are, then, disciples of the Lord Jesus. Yes, some of His disciples, whether parents or children, may turn away and be disavowed (Matt 7:21-23). Even so, they are subject to His ministry of discipleship, learning the obedience God requires, the judgment He imposes for disobedience, and the grace He provides in His Son. As Lane argued, children of professing parents are properly called disciples and are, if we were to keep going, even subjects of covenant baptism.

Acts 24, Jerusalem, and Rome: Some Musings

posted by R. Fowler White

While studying Acts 24, a couple of musings crossed my mind, musings that might bear fruit somewhere down the line.

One of those thoughts concerns the partnership of Jerusalem’s leaders with Rome’s leaders in their lawfare against the Apostle Paul. In briefer terms, it’s “Jerusalem and Rome vs. Christ’s Apostle” in Acts 24. First musing: does their cooperation not bear some striking resemblances to the warfare of the Harlot (= Jerusalem?) and Babylon (= imperial Rome?) against the Lamb and His church in the book of Revelation?

Another thought sprang up when reading Paul’s portrayal of himself in his defense in Acts 24:14-16. He identifies himself as a follower of the Way (14a). That candid admission is not contested by his accusers: it seems to be taken as a simple fact to which both prosecution and defendant stipulated. That self-description becomes weightier, however, when Paul elaborates on it in 24:14b-16. He accentuates the God whom he serves (14b), the Scriptures (canon)—the Law and … the Prophets—on which he bases his beliefs and practices (14c), and the hope he has in God for a resurrection (15). He urges that each of these is drawn from the covenant heritage he shares with his Jewish accusers (in particular, his Pharisee accusers). Clearly, Paul sees his life of Christian discipleship as one that is both continuous and discontinuous with the Jewish covenantal heritage that he shares with his accusers.

This second train of thought seems to fit neatly with a hypothesis that the Apostles initially received their commission from Christ as two-dimensional: 1) as bringing gospel blessing (reformation, cf. Heb 9:10) to the Abrahamic covenant community that had degenerated in Israel (cf. WCF 25.5), and 2) as bringing gospel blessing to the Gentile nations and, with that blessing, expanding the Abrahamic covenant community to all families of the earth. Hence, a second musing: might observations of this sort contribute to a conclusion that the Apostles saw their commission first as reformers among the degenerated covenant nation of Israel and then as disciple-makers among the degenerated Gentile nations? In any case, the Apostles commission can be credibly understood as one of reformation, making them ancestors of reformers to come.

Granted, the preceding observations may be pretty old hat to students of NT history. Certainly, it is consistent with the to the Jew first and also to the Greek narrative in Acts and in Paul’s letters. It can also be seen, however, in the Gospels themselves, in Christs ministry as Malachis messianic Messenger of the Covenant among the synagogues of Israel, a ministry that persisted in Pauls ministry among the synagogues of the Diaspora and then expanded to sites beyond the synagogues.

Index of my Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 14

On the home stretch here, Mathison addresses some practical concerns about movement Van Tillians, the practical implications of whether Van Til’s method is workable in evangelism, and some final appeals.

Movement folk of any stripe are often unwilling to hear criticisms of their idol. I dare say there are movement Van Tillians who will defend absolutely everything Van Til ever said, no matter what other considerations might come into play, and this would be wrong. While I consider myself a Van Tillian, I am certainly not unwilling to consider the possibility that Van Til erred on occasion. I have noted two such areas in this series of reviews. I could point out that there are movement Sproulians, too (and I grew up on Sproul, and am very fond of most of his teaching). Sproul was wrong on the second and fourth commandments (quite obviously taking a different position than the Reformed traditionally take), and I am not comfortable with some of his Christological formulations, particularly on the person of Christ and His two natures.

On the issue of practical apologetics, I am puzzled by the critique (221-223). If someone from any apologetic methodology wants to engage with a Hindu, for example, wouldn’t it be a good idea for that person to have a basic grasp of Hinduism? Why is it only Van Tillians who have to become experts in every worldview? Is Mathison seriously suggesting that if a classical apologist wants to engage with an atheist, he should learn nothing about atheism? Van Til simplified things when it came to unbelieving worldviews because that would make it easier for people to see larger patterns of unbelief. And some patterns of unbelief are very similar across quite a few worldviews. Autonomy, for example, is characteristic of all forms of unbelief, and it is a central concern in any form of apologetics and evangelism.

I can certainly and heartily “amen” Mathison’s concern about the discussion concerning the method of apologetics distracting people from actually practicing apologetics and engaging with unbelievers. I have seen the phenomenon he is describing in all methodologies of apologetics, as he also notes. It is one reason I started a series of youtube videos called “What’s the Deal with Christians and Christianity?”

To conclude, while I certainly appreciate Mathison, and count him a friend and brother in Christ, and appreciate all his other books, I do not find this book convincing or compelling. I could wish he would find Richard Pratt and James Anderson more compelling as what mainline Van Tillians believe (neither of which get a mention in the book). From what I’ve seen, rank and file Van Tillians typically avoid most of the pitfalls Mathison mentions, and the vast majority of the OPC, for example, consists of Van Tillians.

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 13

The chapter on practical concerns deals primarily with VT’s influence, and whether it has been positive or negative. Some of his caveats need to be noted here. About the mutualism of Frame and Oliphint, he says, “I did not find anything in Van Til that would directly link him to such doctrines.” And again, “I am not blaming Van Til for anything any of his students taught. I am merely attempting to understand how one element of his thought might have unintentionally created an environment in which the prevalence of such strange theological moves make sense” (215). That being said, Mathison thinks it is possible that Van Til’s condemnation of the scholastics might have contributed to their development (215).

It is in this qualified context that Mathison asks questions about the Shepherd controversy, John Murray’s covenantal theology, and the mutualism of Frame and Oliphint. I am not sure I can agree with Mathison, however, that the attempts at recasting traditional Reformed doctrine are continual at WTS (215).

First up is Van Til’s “defense” of Norman Shepherd. I say it in quotation marks because Mathison is missing some significant context in that situation. First of all, Van Til was 81 years old when the controversy started heating up in 1976, and he was 86 years old when Shepherd left the seminary. Van Til framed the entire debate in terms of modern evangelicalism. He has been quoted as saying “Shepherd is right because Bill Bright is wrong.” Mathison quotes Muether’s biography, but fails to note the exculpatory comment “However, Van Til’s participation in the debate was minimal, and it is unclear to what extent his protest involved a close familiarity with the doctrinal issues. Robert Strimple, for example, recalled ‘that Van Til attended none of the faculty discussions about the controversy'” (222 of Muether’s biography on Van Til). Quite aside from the possibility that being elderly in such a context might make restraint a better way to go, it is quite doubtful whether Van Til can be said to have defended Shepherd’s aberrant views on justification and covenant theology. Frame likewise (though, I believe, errantly claiming that Van Til supported Shepherd’s justification doctrine) gives an exculpatory comment that is relevant to the point Mathison is trying to make when he (an avowed Shepherd supporter to this day, as one can see in his Systematic Theology on justification) said “About the Shepherd firing, I have little to say at this point except that it had little if anything to do with Shepherd’s adherence to Van Til’s principles…Beyond the fact that Van Til supported Shepherd, there was no significant connection between the controversy and Van Til’s legacy.” One could wish that these contextual factors had played any part whatsoever in Mathison’s treatment of the subject.

There have been three major theological controversies at WTS (which would hardly constitute “continual” given its 95 plus year history!): the Shepherd controversy, the Enns controversy, and the Oliphint controversy. Murray said he was recasting covenant theology. However, as several folk have noted, his treatment of the Adamic administration leaves in place the works principle. It is more a linguistic quibble that he had with the phrase “covenant of works” than a serious recasting of the structure of the covenant of works.

There is no attempt on Mathison’s part to connect the Enns controversy with Van Til, except that he mentions that the Enns controversy happened (216). One wonders why he mentions this controversy. Everything Van Til stood for on the doctrine of Scripture is against what Enns proposed. There can’t be even a tangential connection on this one. It should not even have been mentioned. Probably the reason it was is that the only way Mathison can use the term “continual” is if he included the Enns controversy.

Even on the mutualism controversy, it is difficult to see how Van Til would have contributed, even unintentionally. Van Til is completely orthodox on the attributes of God, and Mathison himself says nothing negative about Van Til’s doctrine of the attributes.

Mathison says “Based on what we find in Van Til’s books and class syllabi, it is clear that those who were his students had the idea drilled into their heads year after year that the traditional apologetics and the natural theology of the sixteenth and seventeenth century Reformed theologians led those theologians to compromise every major doctrine of Reformed theology” (216, emphasis added). I was quite shocked to read this, as it is quite grossly unfair. Van Til actively promoted confessionally Reformed theology. Mathison himself says that Van Til and he overlap on the vast majority of doctrines. Mathison seems to have forgotten that he is accusing Van Til here of rejecting the Westminster divines themselves, something Van Til never did, and if he wanted to correct any of them, it was only on apologetical methodology, not every major doctrine of Reformed theology.

Mathison also tries to connect the dots on the Federal Vision controversy to students of students of Van Til (217). He doesn’t seem to acknowledge here that many of the most vociferous enemies of the FV are also Van Tillians (myself, Richard Phillips, Guy Waters, and many in the RCUS). I might add that many defenses of the Federal Visionists appealed over and over again to the scholastic theologians (Wolfgang Musculus and Cornelius Burgess were especially frequent in my encounters, for their views on paedo-communion and baptism, respectively), especially in an effort to broaden the Reformed tradition beyond the confessions such that their errant views fit inside. Van Til would not have tolerated this broadening of the definition of Reformed theology. While Mathison does not go the route of John Robbins in blaming the entire FV controversy on Van Til, he does still seem to indicate that it falls within the stream of Van Til. I would demur. It falls within the stream of Klaas Schilder, a misreading of John Murray, Norman Shepherd, Peter Leithart, and James Jordan.

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 12

The chapter on historical concerns charges Van Til with misrepresenting the Protestant scholastics, and many of the philosophers of history, especially Aquinas and Butler. The first point he makes is that Van Til over-generalized about the history of philosophy in claiming that there were very few philosophical frameworks. Van Til will say, for example, that belief and unbelief are the two basic categories. Mathison says that is a bit like saying there are dogs and non-dogs. However, didn’t Augustine say the same thing by telling us about two cities, not many? Didn’t the Bible say that there is the line of the woman and the line of the serpent? On the distinction between believers and unbeliever, Van Til is simply taking that into the philosophical world and examining how it is true there. What is true about unbelief in all forms, according to Van Til, is unbelief’s commitment to autonomy. Of course there are significant differences among the various kinds of unbelief. But didn’t Van Til acknowledge this? Did he argue against materialists the same way he argued against idealists? Did he argue against Muslims the same way he argued against Hindus? In this area I speak as one who has done a fair amount of research into world religions. I taught a Sunday School class on all the major world religions, and in preparation for this, I read at least two complete books on each world religion written by proponents of that religion. I can testify that the commitment to autonomy is present in all world religions except Christianity.

I have already treated Mathison’s critique of Van Til on the scholastic theologians. On the now much-vexed question of Van Til on Aquinas, there seems to me to be some problems with Van Til on Aquinas, not that I trust Aquinas on many things in theology. Not only are there the passages Mathison quotes, but I found an additional one Mathison could have quoted, which is ST Pt. 1, Q.3, Art. 5 on the simplicity of God and whether God belongs to a genus. His conclusion is that God does not belong to a genus, and in the process, he also says “God is the principle of all being,” and he describes God’s being in the same article as being distinct from any created genus or being. It is possible on this issue that Van Til does depend on some scholars who took the chain of being in a sort of gnostic direction in Aquinas. There are plenty of real problems in Aquinas (especially in soteriology), and just because I think Van Til got Aquinas wrong on this point doesn’t mean he was wrong on Aquinas on all other points (though Mathison does not claim this).

Mathison claims Van Til has misrepresented Calvin on what unregenerate man can know, but the problem of the definition of “true knowledge” bedevils this point also. In which sense of knowing or not knowing did Van Til claim Calvin held to with regard to unregenerate man? It is the the kind of knowledge that is truly analogous to God’s knowledge of which man is bereft. It is demonstrable from Calvin that he taught that there were noetic effects of the fall even on man’s knowledge of earthly things. Van Til said, “from an ultimate point of view” on this particular point. There is no discontinuity between Van Til and Calvin on this point. I might point out, as a relevant bit of historical theology, that Sinclair Ferguson, when being interviewed for teaching at WTS, was asked if he knew the theology of Van Til, to which he responded, “Yes, I’ve read John Calvin.”

Mathison misreads Van Til, however, I believe, on the question of Butler’s relationship to Aquinas. Van Til understands Butler’s Analogy to be “the great textbook of evangelical apologetics” (Christian Apologetics, Second Edition, 100). In this context, “evangelical” is pretty much synonymous with “bible-believing classical methodology,” as is clear from page 99. It is the classical model of apologetics that Van Til believes Butler shares with Aquinas. Van Til mentions the similarity in classical methodology between Butler and Aquinas’s Summa Contra Gentiles, NOT the Summa Theologiae, which makes it very puzzling indeed to see Mathison comparing Butler to the ST and saying they are different, when that is not what Van Til said. If, as I believe, VT was simply saying that Butler and Aquinas are both examples of classical apologetical methodology (and was not saying that Butler was alike to Aquinas in every respect), then I am not sure what Mathison would quibble about in this comparison. Mathison is very concerned about Van Til’s alleged misrepresentations, and although he does try very hard to be fair to Van Til, I believe I have shown that he isn’t always interpreting Van Til correctly. Shouldn’t the measure Mathison is using on Van Til be applied to Mathison’s work? Van Til made errors. I have pointed out a few places where I believe he has made errors. Mathison has made errors, too. Isn’t this true of every theologian? Why should Van Til’s apologetical methodology be brought into question because of these kinds of errors? If Mathison believes it should, then shouldn’t classical apologetic methodology be brought into question on the basis of Mathison’s errors regarding Van Til?

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 11

The antithesis is a key element of Van Til’s apologetics. He gets it from Kuyper. Van Til’s version, again, says that metaphysically, believers and unbelievers have everything in common. Epistemologically, they have nothing in common. My previous criticism of Mathison on this point also pops up here. Mathison extends Van Til’s position beyond where it should go. Mathison claims that Van Til’s antithesis disallows for communication (178-9). But the quotation Mathison uses to support this claim already anticipates this objection in the context. Observe page 38: “It might seem then that there can be no argument between them” (i.e., no communication). Van Til’s answer is that everything in the universe is revelational of God. His response, in other words, is to reiterate the metaphysical commonality. To put it another way, the only way you can get to a place where Van Til’s position on the epistemological antithesis demands a severing of communication between believer and unbeliever is to downplay the metaphysical commonality. But these two principles must be held side by side in order to interpret Van Til properly, each qualifying the other.

The other issue I have also already dealt with in relation to the antithesis. What is the definition of “know truly?” Van Til operates with two main definitions, it seems to me. One is related to the metaphysical reality, one to the epistemological realm. The metaphysical reality definition is one by which unregenerate man can know many things truly. In the epistemological realm, he knows nothing truly. In the former, what is required for true knowledge is simply a correspondence between what is asserted and the reality that is out there. Even here, of course, unregenerate man gets many things twisted and wrong. But in the epistemological realm, unregenerate man gets pretty much everything wrong, except insofar as common grace restrains him. Mathison’s error is in saying that Van Til’s only route for saying unregenerate man can know anything is common grace. This is not true. Van Til has many statements that show unregenerate man can know many things about the metaphysical world in a way that corresponds to that world, and so “true” in a correspondence way. But he (in himself) knows nothing truly in the epistemological realm, because of autonomy. Even if autonomy does not always operate fully (being restrained by common grace), autonomy is still there, lurking and twisting. This is why, despite the qualification of common grace on the antithesis, the presuppositional method is still necessary. Common grace does not erase autonomy, even where common grace operates. It merely prevents autonomy from being as bad as it can get.

I have already given my thoughts on Mathison’s critique of the Trinitarian theology of Van Til, so I direct readers there for my critique of Mathison on these points.

Review of Keith Mathison on Van Til, Part 10

The first issue in chapter 8 of Mathison’s book (on theological issues in Van Til) has to do with VT’s relationship to historic Reformed theology, generally speaking. Here I might point out that if Van Til was confessional, then he wasn’t “saying that his definition of Reformed theology should be the standard by which all other Reformed theologians (including the theologians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries) should be judged” (p. 173). VT agreed with both the WS and the 3FU. The fact that he disagreed with many Reformed theologians on particular issues related to classical apologetics doesn’t change this. It is only on certain issues. Mathison might be qualifying the statement when he mentions VT’s presuppositional apologetic methodology, but this could be made much more clear. Did VT think he was tweaking the Reformed tradition? He thought that his views were well within confessional boundaries, and he also saw Bavinck and Kuyper, in particular, as his antecedents. Yes, he did think that a more thorough-going Reformed apologetic could be forged, and he attempted to do that. But it is not clear at all that he thought he was dreaming up a completely new methodology.

It is not clear who Mathison has in mind when he says, “Van Til’s statements about the early Reformed theologians forces the Reformed Christian to ask himself or herself why Van Til should be viewed as the standard by which all Reformed theology is defined” (173). There is no qualification or disclaimer of rhetorical exaggeration in the context. Have Van Til’s followers done this? I think the most that could be said is that some of VT’s followers have made him the standard on apologetics. I don’t know of anyone who has made VT the standard by which all Reformed theology is defined. As an aside, in most places in the book, you can see Mathison struggling with might and main to be fair. On a few occasions, such as this one, you can see his frustration show through a bit.

On the possibility of natural theology, Mathison puts the issue in a roughly similar category to the “true knowledge” issue. Van Til rejects the possibility of natural theology as done by unregenerate man, but then acknowledges that fallen man knows God exists. That is, I believe his position is that an unregenerate person will inevitably distort the created realm in his own understanding, thus resulting in a distorted view of the God he knows exists. Let me be clear: to say anything else is surely a denial of the noetic effects of the Fall, is it not? My question, though, is this: is Van Til denying the possibility of natural theology for all people, or only for unregenerate people? On page 123 of A Survey of Christian Epistemology, the very place Mathison references here, Van Til notes that regeneration changes everything. Once a person’s eyes have been corrected, they can see things properly again. This is thoroughly in line with Calvin, who sees the Scriptures as spectacles by which we can have our errant eyesight corrected. Calvin says, “Bright, however, as is the manifestation which God gives both of himself and his immortal kingdom in the mirror of his works, so great is our stupidity, so dull are we in regard to these bright manifestations, that we derive no benefit from them” (Inst. I. 5. 11). This in a long discourse on the power of natural revelation, but our inability to interpret it correctly. Natural theology is only really possible for regenerate humanity. Before the Fall, we would have done just fine interpreting natural theology correctly. Mathison gives the impression that he thinks Van Til believes there is no possibility of doing natural theology under any conditions whatsoever. This is patently not true, even on the very pages Mathison cites.

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