God, Time, and Necessity

Term Paper

Metaphysics

3 December 2008

Introduction to the problem

The theological debate over God's sovereignty and man's moral responsibility has been fought in both the realms of biblical theology and philosophical theology. Though derived from systematic theology, the idea of God's having true foreknowledge of the future both affects and is affected by the philosophical analysis of these concepts. This interrelation is, in fact, crucial to the side of conservative libertarian theologians, and it is also enlisted by many of the predestinarian theologians.

This paper will analyze the argument apparently adduced by some of the more prominent predestinarians that God's exhaustive knowledge of all events, past, present, and future, determines that those events must occur. This is often criticized by libertarians on the grounds that “foreknowledge does not imply foreordination.” The position herein advocated would agree—however, a difficulty arises when the typical libertarian claim that God is outside of time, upon which their critique rests, is analyzed in relation to God's actual actions in time. It will be argued that this will indeed establish such a necessity of events as is inconsistent with libertarian freedom, and the Molinist attempt to solve the problem will also be critiqued.

The Predestinarian Argument

Luther, Foreknowledge, and Necessity

We will take a classic work of Reformed predestinarianism as our example of the argument for predestination from foreknowledge. In Martin Luther's The Bondage of the Will¹, a defense of exhaustive predestination written against Desiderius Erasmus's Diatribe on Free Will, Luther argues that God's foreknowledge of future events implies the necessity of those events (Luther, De Servo Arbitrio, IX). He is careful to distinguish between absolute necessity and contingent necessity here, however: the necessity of the events arises posterior to God's willing them, but is contingent upon His willing them—He could have willed otherwise. He thus avoids many of the pitfalls of such an absolute determinism as Leibniz's by attributing to actualized events a necessity absolute insofar as they proceed from the will of God, but contingent upon God's free will².

Nevertheless, Luther asserts that if God foreknows an event, He must also will it: “Do you believe that He foreknows against His will, or that He wills in ignorance? If then, He foreknows, willing, His will is eternal and immovable, because His nature is so: and, if He wills, foreknowing, His knowledge is eternal and immovable, because His nature is so.” (De Servo Arbitrio, IX). This is open to criticism, particularly the implication that God foreknows no event that will occur contrary to His will, and will be further analyzed below.

The Libertarian Argument

God, Eternity, and Time

Libertarians reject this argument: while they affirm God's foreknowledge, they deny a necessity of action arising therefrom. They point out that the predestinarian concept of foreknowledge implies a temporal placement of God in relation to the event; most prominent libertarians instead argue that God is primarily outside of time. He can see the whole of temporal existence without tensed distinction, because it is all present to Him in His eternality. While they still tend to use the term “foreknowledge,” it would be more precise to call their conception of God's knowledge simply “omniscience” or “exhaustive knowledge” to avoid the implication of “previous” knowledge and God's temporality.

On these grounds, they can say that God merely sees all the free actions of creatures throughout history— the action and will of the creatures are primary, and God's knowledge of them is posterior to their actualization. This ostensibly avoids the force of Luther's argument, as it avoids his emphasis on the temporal progression. God can see all points of time equally, on their view—this would seem to imply a B-theory of time, at least at the ultimate level of God's experience; this will be further discussed below.

“Foreknowledge Does Not Imply Foreordination”

For the libertarian, God's knowledge of events (whether physical events or states of the will) being logically posterior to their actualization is sufficient to guarantee the liberty of the agent to perform or not to perform the event when he actually does. For them, for a person at time Z to say of God “He knows event X will occur at future time T” refers not to God's knowledge of “future,” but to a God who is always equally present at every point in the flow of time. Thus, the person can say at time Z that God “foreknows” time T because time T is still future to the person, and God can know time Z and time T because He is present at both points in time.

It is even more tenuous, the libertarian would argue, to say that God actually ordained event X at future time T, because an active foreordination assumes both a knowledge prior to event actualization (which they believe they've already debunked) and also a knowledge posterior to God's willing the event to actualize, which they reject on theological grounds. On their view, the logical order is thus: The free agent wills the event, God knows it, God determines to allow the event. This is the essence of classic Christian libertarianism.

The Analysis

Predestinarianism and the Critique

The libertarian critique of the predestinarian connection of exhaustive knowledge and necessity is correct insofar as it goes, based as it is on God's eternality and timelessness. It misses the point of the argument for a predestinarian to assert that an event is necessary because it is foreknown, precisely because a libertarian would reject the temporal implication. If God does exist completely outside of time, and if the B-theory of time upon which this seems to rest is true, then He can see the entire history of time as one undistinguished existence and can know all events at all times without a temporal distinction in His own mind. Thus, as per the example above, if a person says God “foreknows,” it is only a reference to the passage of time relative to the speaker, not to any distinction in God's own mind.

However, it is truly the libertarian who is missing the point in the discussion. “Foreknowledge” is essentially a term of temporal reference and it is used for a reason. Most predestinarians would, in fact, agree that God is fundamentally outside of time, though this was not made explicit by Luther. However, though God is outside of time and is Himself timeless, yet He acts inside of the time He has created, and not only does He know what will occur at times future relative to people existent at moments of time, but He also transmits that knowledge into time via prophecy.

God, Eternity, and Time Revisited

To review and clarify: Both sides agree, for the purposes of our argument (we are chiefly dealing with the classical examples) that God is outside of time. Conservatives of both the libertarian and predestinarian camps would hold that God yet acts within the time structure He has created. They are bound to both transcendence and immanence. In their conception of God's transcendence and thus at the ultimate level of reality, they would seem to agree on something similar to a B-theory of time; but in their shared conception of God's immanence, God's action can be described in the same senses as are proper to events inside of time. That is, God's ultimate existence is tenseless and transcendent of the time He has created—after all, time itself derives its existence from Him Who has eternally existed—but His action in time is tensed relative to those in time.

On these points the two sides are agreed. But it is precisely on these points that the combination of immanence, exhaustive knowledge derived from transcendence, and libertarian

freedom³ become fatal to each other.

The Options

The three cannot exist simultaneously. One can have any combination of two, but not all three. This may seem a radical claim, but there are three coherent options. One can have a sort of deism, wherein God creates the world, then is no longer active in its ordering—this would be distinguished from the historically deterministic Deism in that this position could theoretically have the libertarian freedom, as well as the exhaustive knowledge derived from transcendence, while denying God's immanence. Open Theism is another philosophically plausible option: it would deny God's exhaustive knowledge, but would allow Him to act inside of time and people to act inside of time without God's interference. Or one could have the combination of immanence and exhaustive knowledge derived from transcendence, without the libertarian freedom, which is the position of classical Calvinism.

No conservative Christian with a high view of Scripture would deny God's immanence or His exhaustive knowledge⁴. The biblical proof of these concepts would seem unassailable. We thus have remaining the position of classical Calvinism, and in the next section we will endeavour to prove why the three propositions, the combination composing classical Arminianism, cannot all coexist.

The Wrench in the Cog

Put simply, the problem lies in the combination of Proposition A: the formulation of omniscience as proceeding from transcendence of time discussed above, and Proposition B: that God does act inside of time. We will work on two main issues here: God's knowledge of His acting at a point in time and God's transmission of His knowledge into time via prophecy.

The first issue can be stated thus: if God knows that He will act in a particular way at time T in response to circumstances C, then circumstances C must obtain; for circumstances C to obtain, all choices and events leading up to circumstances C must be such as will infallibly result in circumstances C. For this we will take the example of Christ's death; in 1 Peter 1:18-20 it is said, “you were not redeemed with perishable things...but with...the blood of Christ, for He was foreknown before the foundation of the world, but has appeared in these last times for the sake of you.”

It could be said that God foreknew Christ's redemptive act because of His transcendence of time, but a temporal description is necessary here because Christ's redemptive act necessitated a temporal response by God—the advent of Christ, and the punishment of Christ by God the Father for the sake of His people, were both accomplished at moments in time and were thus acts of God in time. Further, the circumstances surrounding Christ's death necessitated certain states of affairs involving moral choices by human beings. There are many, but the most crucial one here is a fallen world in need of redemption—hence Christ's character of Redeemer. For Christ to redeem, there had to be someone to redeem from fallenness, hence fallenness, hence a Fall. A Fall of Man was logically necessary before God could know Christ as a Redeemer. One may object that this in no way means Adam had to fall; granted, but this is only to shift the burden to another morally responsible human. The point is that it was necessary for someone to make the choice that would result in fallenness. It is not possible for all people to have made the choice for good in the face of God's knowing that Christ would come to redeem a fallen people. If it is not possible for all people to have chosen otherwise, then libertarian freedom does not exist, at least for that one person.

The second issue can be stated thus: if God knows timelessly circumstances C1 to obtain at time T1, and transmits that knowledge to beings in time at time T2in time that God would harden Pharaoh's heart meant that, when it came time for Pharaoh's heart to be hardened, it would be, and thus that the circumstances leading up to that hardening were necessarily such that God must and would harden it. This, however, completely undercuts the atemporal basis of the libertarian argument: once God has transmitted his transcendent knowledge into time, the future events are truly future to those in time, and are in fact foreknown, in the truly temporal sense. Whether or not God has ordained them, they must necessarily come about and cannot be otherwise: thus insofar as these circumstances are dependent on human choices, exactly are those “choices” only so in a compatibilist or Calvinist sense.

Molinism's Attempted Answer

A modern attempt to solve this problem is the theory of God's middle knowledge. According to this theory, God knows what any person would do in a given set of circumstances, and, according to the circumstances that He knows will obtain at any given time, knows what any given person will do. However, this position does not seem to protect a libertarian definition of freedom. Crucial to the concept of libertarian freedom is that the agent has the absolute possibility in any given circumstances to do otherwise than what he does. But if God knows what a person would do in any given situation, then the person could not do otherwise than what he does. It is not possible that he would do anything else. If it is possible that he would do anything else, then God's knowledge is erroneous or indefinite; if it is not possible that he would do anything else, then the agent lacks freedom as defined by libertarianism. Thus Molinism does not seem to solve the problem. This weakness has even less to do with temporal progression than does the classical libertarian argument; the argument fails simply because of its definition of what exactly God knows and the limits this places upon human freedom. While this is not a problem for a compatibilist, it utterly fails to promote a libertarian conception of freedom and thus defeats the stated purpose of the Molinist argument.

Conclusion

It seems that the classical libertarian critique of a Calvinistic necessity sows the seeds of its own downfall. Because God is transcendent of His created time, their theory initially seems successful, but the consideration of His immanence in time, and especially the transmission of His knowledge into time, causes the theory to break down and exclude a libertarian freedom. The Molinist theory itself negates human freedom because it binds an agent's possible options in a given circumstance, which undermines the very libertarian theory it ostensibly defends. While this essay has not gone so far as to prove God's active predestination, nor attempted to prove the compatibility of this with the moral responsibility of agents, it has reached its objective of proving at least that libertarian freedom is philosophically incompatible with the incontestable theological doctrines of omniscience and immanence.

1Though the work is primarily theological, he does deal with some of the philosophical implications, this being one of the first Protestant works to do so. It is thus cited here as a classic example of Protestant discussion on the matter.

2Thus, this is a modified compatibilism: for the events are necessary, but not absolutely so. Further, because the necessity arises from the will of God, some of the moral objections to hard compatibilism are avoided.

3Libertarian freedom is defined as “given choices A and B, one can literally choose to do either one, no circumstances exist that are sufficient to determine one's choice; a person's choice is up to him, and if he does one of them, he could have done otherwise, or at least refrained from acting at all.” (Moreland and Craig, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview, 240).

4Many would argue that no conservative Christian with a high view of Scripture would deny man's libertarian freedom, either, but since 1) this has to do with anthropology, and only indirectly with theology proper and 2) this position on God's providence was held by nearly all the early Reformers, whether or not “Calvinist,” who are as “conservative” as one can get and inarguably had a high view of Scripture, we will treat this concept differently from the other two and place less of a burden of proof upon it as upon the others.

Reference List

Luther, Martin. De Servo Arbitrio “On the Enslaved Will” or The Bondage of Will, trans. Henry Cole. Grand Rapids, MI: Christian Classics Ethereal Library, 2005. Accessed at http://www.lgmarshall.org/Reformed/luther_bondagewill.pdf

Moreland, J.P., and William Lane Craig. Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2003.

US History discussion on Metaphysics and Epistemology

From an exchange in US History II (DF 8, Thread "The Unsetting, Unsettling Sun"):

We were discussing the 1920s and the rise of the liberal churches and a widespread rejection of Christianity and the Bible as literal truth. We discussed this in part as it manifested in evolutionary theory, but this thread dealt more with the widespread rejection of the Bible's infallibility on the supposed grounds that science made authority unnecessary and made nonsense of some Biblical statements (e.g., that the sun stood still in Joshua 10). The italicized portions are my classmates' posts, the plain text ones are mine.

In any case, I likewise think that it is sad, not so much that people accepted some form of evolution, but that they then proceeded to build their theology on this idea of evolutionary progress--i.e., postmillenialism, the perfectibility of man, man's inherent/progressive goodness, etc. I am a six-day, young earth creationist, don't get me wrong, but, so long as my fellow Christians hold to a universe that is governed by God's providence (i.e., there is no random evolution, and no materialistic evolution), I personally think there are bigger fish to fry than theistic evolution. In any case, in apologetics, you must first deal with how unbelievers interpret the evidence before evidence contrary to their views means anything to them; this is what I appreciate about presuppositional apologetics.

But before I go off on that tangent (and no, I'm not debating that point), it has also struck me how theories of science affect theories of man and philosophy. Specifically, I have not been able to grasp before how one could make the leap from saying that matter, time, and space are relative to saying that morals and truth are relative. I was pondering it today, though, and it hit me--this makes perfect sense in a material world. If matter is all there is, and truth and morality are merely byproducts of matter, and matter is relative, then it follows indeed that truth and morality are relative.

Then again, if matter is relative, and our minds are merely matter, then even our perception of reality is relative--but to what? It would be more accurate to say that we (if we can even use personal pronouns) can have no confidence that our minds have any correlation to what is really there--it may be ordered or it may not be, but our minds cannot know because we don't even know what our minds are.

Epistemology and metaphysics are inextricably intertwined, and the major question of each (what is? How do we know?) must be answered simultaneously, in both objective being and subjective knowledge of that being and of our own being--I believe that the objective and unchanging revelation of God and the world in Scripture and the faith (being subjective knowledge correlative to objective being, not Kierkegaard's "leap") that is a gift imparted sovereignly by God to His are the only sufficient answers for those questions.

Okay, so that's my idea of philosophy, history, and science in a nutshell.... People can either make themselves the arbiters of what is and what can be known (and since we are finite reference points, this should be self-evidently foolish), or we can accept the rightful claim of the Lord who created us and the universe and thus has the right to interpret it and tell us what is, who we are, and what our meaning is.


"If matter is all there is, and truth and morality are merely byproducts of matter, and matter is relative, then it follows indeed that truth and morality are relative."

While matter may change, do the laws affecting matter change?

Aha! I knew this was bound to come up sooner or later. This strikes at the heart of materialism.

What laws? How do we know that there are laws? We observe that something happens over and over again (say, the sun rises every morning), and say that this is a "law," but, strictly speaking, it's not. "The sun rises every morning" is descriptive of what we have observed, but is not prescriptive because we have observed it. We cannot say with absolute certainty, only with high probability, that the sun will rise tomorrow. To say that it is a prescriptive certainty, we'd have to have access to all information about all the universe, and not just the fact, but also the meaning and relation of those facts. We do not have those, and if we are dealing with an atheistic worldview, no one does.
So, in materialism, it is an ASSUMPTION that there are unchangeable laws governing matter. As I was pointing out before, in the materialistic worldview, the world may or may not be ordered--we don't know. If we try to observe and make sense of it, we are ASSUMING A) that there is a reality outside our minds, B) that our minds are ordered and can have knowledge correlative to reality and C) that reality can be ordered. Note that, in trying to decide whether the universe is rational or not, it is ASSUMED that our minds are rational. But our minds are part of the material universe, so this point, by their standard, should not be assumed. Rationalism, from the start, assumes itself, but without good reason.

If you want to say that we can't know universal laws as absolutes (which, I'll concede, we can't), you're left with a few things.

1) God. But what if, as Descartes posited, "God" is merely a malicious demon out to deceive me? What if, as he further posited, "God" is my projection of authority onto a creation of my own imagination? Both of those show that it's possible (unlikely, but possible) that God does not exist and does not reveal Himself.

2) My senses. My senses are, in essence, five ways in which my brain interprets electrical signals. Sight, Sound, Scent, Taste, and Touch are all in my mind. It is possible (unlikely, but possible) that everything I sense is, as in a dream, just a figment of my imagination.

3) My mind. This is really a two-parter. My brain, which may or may not exist (again - it likely does, but there's that slim chance that it doesn't and I'm just a metaphysical consciousness), and my consciousness (important enough to be a fourth point).

4) My consciousness. I am. I exist. I know I exist because I am conscious of the question of my existence. I think, therefore I am. If I know nothing else absolutely, I know that I exist because, if I didn't exist, I wouldn't be thinking about this.

None of that is to say that objective reality's actual existence is doubtful, but it is to say that, like the rising of the sun, there is the slimmest of chances that the earth does not exist, that my senses mislead me, that God does not exist, and that I am the only inhabitant of reality.


1) I'll deal with this more fully in point 4, but for now note that even Descartes eventually deduced that, for his mind to exist and have any correlation to reality, there had to be a God external to himself. He was self-conscious first, chronologically, but his self-consciousness presupposed an external God.

2) Agreed.

3) As you separate the idea of consciousness from the necessity of a brain, I agree with your summary so far as it goes, though I must note that it is incompatible with materialism. In a truly materialistic world, all things must be explained in terms of matter/energy (which, as you'll remember, have recently been discovered to be interchangeable. ;-)).

4) .1 First of all, as noted above, for a consciousness to exist without matter is contradictory to the fundamental assumption of materialism--that all phenomena can be eventually explained in terms of matter. That is what we were originally discussing. Descartes was not a strict materialist, and in fact was a rationalist in a specific sense (which, in his time, was opposed to an empiricist). I use "rationalist" in the broader sense of "a believer in objective reality and our ability to understand it by our use of reason," as opposed to "irrationalist"; if Ayn Rand's specific philosophy hadn't already been labeled "objectivism," "objectivism v. subjectivism" would be a fair denominator of the two points. Both Descartes' rationalism and Hume's empiricism would fall under objectivism in that broad sense. Existentialism and New Age philosophy would fall under subjectivism--Hinduism would be more precisely described as "irrationalist."

Okay, so with the understanding that this goes beyond the strict materialism (empiricism) which was at issue in the first place, I continue. ;-)

4.2. First of all, realize that the truth of "I think, therefore I am" is under debate. I haven't read the argument myself, but someone, I think Nietszche or Hegel, posited that being itself was merely a result of abstract Idea--in other words, "I" is a result of Thought which no one is thinking, but just exists in some abstract sense. So even then, there is no concrete "I." Indeed, if being is a product of Idea, then ultimately you come to the point, I think, where you cannot distinguish being and thus "I" becomes nonsense as a distinguisher (think of the "nirvana" of Buddhism, wherein identity is lost).

Anyway, my point is that Descartes' argument is not absolutely fool-proof, from the standpoint of unrevealed philosophy.

4.3 Also note that Descartes, though he was first self-conscious, realized that his self-consciousness did not merely point to the existence of a transcendent, eternal being (God), but REQUIRED it. Descartes would disagree that you (or he or "I") could possibly be the only inhabitant of reality. God is required.

Read a summary of his argument here.


4.4 Further, to return strictly to your argument, even if we know that I exist ("I" defined as the being doubting), it is, for the materialist, a leap of faith to begin making judgments on material reality and on the nature of his existence. He must KNOW the nature of his existence before he can trust his ability to reason, and he cannot reason out the nature of his existence for precisely that reason. There is a necessity for innate knowledge or granted knowledge.

4.5 Christian theology provides some grounds of innate knowledge. Romans 1 says that all men know that God exists and at least some of His attributes. It may also be in 1, but it's somewhere in the Pauline epistles, wherein it is said that all men also know, in some sense, right and wrong. It is because they actively suppress that knowledge that they do not acknowledge it.

Further, Christ is revealed by granted knowledge. He cannot be discovered or rendered reasonable simply by rationalization (1 Corinthians 1, 2) but is revealed by the Spirit to those whom God has chosen. Those who do not believe "do not believe because you are not my sheep." (John 10:26). Those who do believe do so because belief has been granted them--faith is a gift (Ephesians 2:8) and is not just trust, not Kierkegaard's "leap" (as too many mainstream churches present it), not simply a subjective choice, but knowledge. Pistos is the Greek word for faith, and you may recognize that as the root for "epistemology," the study of theories of knowledge. "Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen."

Faith is not the opposite of reason, but is rather the grounds of reason--one could just as well call one's faith one's assumptions or presuppositions. The materialist assumes that reality exists and that it can be ordered and future decisions can be accurately extrapolated from it. In a sense, these assumptions are a faith. I believe, however, that these assumptions are faulty and will ultimately lead to self-contradiction (and, btw, I don't believe that one can reach Christian faith strictly by the operation of autonomous reason). The Christian's implanted faith in God is the grounds for his reason, and is consistent in its epistemology and metaphysics--the questions of those fields (what is? How do we know?) are simultaneously answered by God. God is and has created us, and we know because He tells us both objectively in Scriptural revelation and subjectively by the witness of the Spirit which enables us to accept His objective revelation.

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." Proverbs 1:7

Presuppositionalism and Calvinism: the Biblical Answers to the Fundamental Problem of Epistemology

Discussion forum post by Colin Cutler from Principles of Biblical Reasoning, fall 2007:

"I cannot forgive Descartes. In his whole philosophy he would like to do without God. But he cannot help allowing him with a flick of the fingers to set the world in motion. After that he has no more use for God." ~Blaise Pascal

I read the first few of Descartes' "Meditations on First Philosophy" my junior year of high school. Sometime in the following year, I also read Francis Schaeffer's "How Should We Then Live?", and I was surprised by his criticism of Descartes' philosophy. After all, Descartes set out to prove the existence of God; what problem could an evangelical such as Schaeffer have with that? I came to realize later, though (especially in the last year or so), that Schaeffer's problem was not so much with the substance of Descartes' philosophy as with the methodology. Descartes strips all belief away, coming to rest on what he saw as the sole irrefutable first principle: "I think, therefore I am."

However, even in this, Descartes assumed that a person must be doing the thinking and that he was that person; many would later come to question this principle as well. As it turns out, starting from empirical evidence, there is no way to know. Materialistic philosophy and empirical scientism is necessarily arbitrary. Philosophers--and especially scientists--posit that we are in a closed deterministic system, because for it not to be so would defy natural law. Note the self-evident circular argument: all things must work according to natural law, or they would not work according to natural law. However, they have no way of knowing that there IS natural law or that what they have observed to be normal is actually prescriptively normative; for all they know, it could be random chance that these facts coincide (and, in fact, most materialist do believe random chance coexists with natural law). The problem is, though, that if there is random chance, then simply one counterexample could disprove their entire theory of natural law as prescriptive, and that one counterexample could possibly exist. If it can possibly exist, then natural law is not prescriptive.

For example, we may observe nerve synapses firing, but--the question of whether we really observe them or not aside--we only associate these with thought because, in all observed circumstances, thought occurs when nerve synapses fire. That we have observed this in all past cases does not necessarily mean that the firing of nerve synapses causes thought. It makes it very likely, but if there is any possibility of variation, it would follow that the firing of nerve synapses is not the absolute cause of thought. (if you can't tell, I put little stock in statistics)

The problem is in attempting to argue from particulars to universals, then back again. Biologists classify observed animals by observed similarities: e.g., all insects have six legs. More properly put, though, all animals with exoskeletons and six legs are classified as insects. Scientists observe all animals with exoskeletons and six legs, and then arbitrarily class them together. There is nothing inherently wrong in this, as a means of referential classification, but they must remember that the proposition "all insects have six legs" is only true by their own stipulated definition as to what an insect is. If the universal "insect" only has definition in reference to the particulars which it comprises (grasshoppers, ants, cicadas), then any further particulars that are thrust into that universal are thus classified, not because of any relation they have to the universal, but the relation they have to the other particulars.

It is in this way that postmodernists rightly critique modernists for their dogmatism: the modernist has no right to be dogmatic when all he is doing is imposing subjective categories upon facts that may or may not be ultimately categorized. Postmodernists rightly critique all philosophies based upon human autonomy as necessarily subjective.

The error of the postmodernists, though, is in then positing that there is no objective truth. That our subjective systems are not objective does not mean that there is no true object of knowledge, but rather that our systems probably do not coincide with it. They are also correct to say that we cannot know what objective truth is, starting from ourselves. Any attempt to categorize is, as they constantly point out, arbitrary.

There is, however, at least one option that would explain and give an adequate foundation for knowledge: a combination of external and internal interpretive revelation by a Person who is non-creation, yet involved in creation. It cannot be solely external revelation (as with the Deists), for that assumes (wrongly) that our senses are adequate to accurately read the world around us AND that our categorization of "brute facts" is correct." This is strict particularism. Nor can it be solely internal revelation (certain forms of mysticism), for then our knowledge has no correlation with observation, the nature of external being in our view is compromised, and there is no higher common standard by which we can appeal to others. Nor can it even be a definite external revelation with an indefinite internal revelation (such as the "suasive grace" of Wesleyans, Arminians, Romanists, etc.), for then we still have no KNOWLEDGE that our belief correlates to truth, only a persuasion that it does so. Nor can the Person be a part of, or the whole of, creation (as with the pantheists), for then it speaks with no authority as a universal cause of being, and there is no allowance or meaning for particulars; this is strict universalism (in the metaphysical sense, not the soteriological). Strict particularism has facts with no meaning, thus no way to interpret the brute facts; strict universalism has meaning, but no distinct facts to mean anything.

For us to have knowledge, we must have a definite external revelation to which our knowledge must correlate, and definite internal revelation that the external revelation is true. We have the former in the Bible, which purports to be the very words of God, and through which He tells us what the world is, what the meaning of it and its events are, how it came to be, and where it is going. Through it, He tells us who we are, and how we ought to live and why. The latter we have in the witness of the Holy Spirit, by the grace of regeneration and the gift of faith (what is popularly known as "irresistible grace," but more properly as "efficient grace"), which He sovereignly grants to those whom the Father has loved since before the beginning of time.

"For since, in the wisdom of God, the world through wisdom did not know God, it pleased God through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe. For Jews request a sign, and Greeks seek after wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling block and to the Greeks foolishness, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God....the hidden wisdom which God ordained before the ages for our glory, which none of the rulers of this age knew; for had they known, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory....But God has revealed them to us through His spirit....Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might know the things that have been freely given to us by God." (1 Cor. 1:21-24, 2:7, 8, 10, 12)

Differing Modes of Defense: the Presuppositional and Classical Apologetics

By Colin Cutler
Final Exam for Principles of Biblical Reasoning (used by permission)
Dr. Martin Erdmann

A Defense of the Faith

“But sanctify the Lord in your hearts; and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.”

1 Peter 3:15 is the verse of commission for all apologists: the Greek word translated “answer”—apologia—speaks of a legal defense before a tribunal. Christians are to be able to defend their faith from the attacks of unbelievers. They are told to be able to make a defense to every man who asks what the reason is for their faith.

A few points can be made here. 1) We are to be knowledgeable about what it is we believe; we cannot defend something we do not know. 2) We are to believe it and act upon it (“sanctify the Lord in your hearts…having a good conscience; that whereas they speak evil of you, as of evil doers, they may be ashamed that falsely accuse your good conversation in Christ.” 1 Peter 3:15-16). 3) We have assurance that our faith is reasonable. Contrary to some of the anti-intellectual fideists who say that one must simply “have faith” without or contrary to reason, we are told that we do indeed have a reason for our hope that we must defend. Faith is not simply a volitional leap, but is a rational—I will argue the sole rational—way of interpreting the empirical and metaphysical data. 4) We are to defend our faith with meekness and fear. We are not to fear man—though we are to be humble, with the knowledge at the forefront of our minds that the only difference between us as Christians and others as unbelievers is the grace of God—but are to fear God. We must not sacrifice or compromise the authority of His Word in our attempts to defend it.

Paul reasoned with the Jews from Scripture (Acts 9:22, 17:17) and the Greeks (Acts 9:29, 17:18-34), and Christ defended Himself with logic (John 10:37, 38).
There are in the modern day two broad schools of thought on Christian apologetics; there is the presuppositional system, which broadly fits under an Augustinian conception of a reason subordinate to faith, and the Thomistic system, which seeks a synthesis of faith and reason as equals operating in different spheres.

Classical Apologetics

Classical (or Thomistic) apologetics is the predominant system in the church currently. It traces its descent from St. Thomas Aquinas, a 12th century theologian and philosopher. He was heavily influenced by Aristotle’s works on logic and philosophy and sought to synthesize Aristotle’s works with the Scriptures and beliefs of orthodox Christianity. His method effectively dichotomizes faith and reason, assigning them different realms of responsibility. Faith is concerned with special revelation (that area of knowledge known and knowable only by immediate divine revelation, specifically in Holy Scripture), and reason with general revelation.

More relevantly, it generally holds that reason, just like the rest of man, has a propensity towards, but not a bondage to, sin and the denial of God. Man is still able to reach some amount of truth by means of his reason, though admittedly not enough for his salvation. Just as Aristotle was able to come to the right conclusion that God is one, is just, and is the source of all things, so, Thomists argue, man can come to the realization of some of God’s truths, and from these can a defense be made for the Christian system of belief, and possibly a foundation laid for faith itself. Thomists thus emphasize general revelation in their apologetic system and tend to reason from what they believe to be common ground held with their opponents.

Presuppositional Apologetics

Presuppositional (or Van Tillian) apologetics is a distinctively Reformed defense of the faith. It was first articulated by Cornelius Van Til, a conservative Reformed professor at Princeton and later Westminster Theological Seminary during the early 1900s. His apologetic system is self-consciously Calvinistic in its view of man and his reason, and God and His creation, and was forged against the backdrop of rationalism, idealism, and the beginnings of a pervasion of postmodern skepticism and nihilism in Western culture. Van Til articulated the idea that on the Christian epistemological foundation of faith, and only on this foundation, could man make sense of his existence and of his world. Thus faith—and not just any faith, but specifically that of Christian theism—was not only reasonable, it was also a prerequisite to all reason. Further, it was a prerequisite not only to good reason, but to any rationality. It is in this that presuppositionalism is revolutionary. Many others had articulated the idea that faith was reasonable, and also that faith was a necessary condition for good reason—Christian reason—but hitherto it had not been clearly articulated that all views except Christian theism were irrational and that Christian theism was a prerequisite for all rationality. In this, Van Til applied the doctrine of Total Depravity in positing that all unbelievers were irrational in part because their professed worldview was inconsistent, but ultimately because they were willfully suppressing their innate knowledge of God.

Presuppositionalism is also distinct in that it defends Christianity as a system: it does not start with the existence of God and then proceed from there to proving the Scriptures as inerrant and the atonement as rational. On the contrary, Van Til was concerned with defending all of Reformed orthodoxy and using the distinctives of Reformed orthodoxy as complements to his system. He realized that this was, in a sense, begging the question of authority, and he responded to this with the valid point that all appeals to authority must by their very nature beg the question of authority. What one must do, then, is to show the ultimate authority of unregenerate man to end in ultimate inconsistency. In the intramural debate between apologetic systems, he applied this in order to point out that if a Christian argued for the authority of the Bible on the basis of prime reason, then it was reason that was authoritative, not the Bible. If the Bible depends on anything other than itself to prove itself, then it does not speak with the authority that it claims for itself.

Presuppositionalism does not say that man cannot know some truth. It does say, and emphatically says, that unregenerate man cannot make sense of truth. For knowing truth divorced from its context and without foundation is hardly knowing truth at all, and is certainly an incoherent way to look at truth. He may grasp some principles that a Christian would agree are true, but the unbeliever has no way of knowing why these principles are true or how they should be applied unless he borrows from the Christian’s own absolutist worldview.


A Comparison of the Two Systems

Thomism has the advantage of antiquity and tradition behind it, and is not to be despised. After all, it was the system of choice for most of the church’s apologists and philosophers for about 800 years, whereas presuppositionalism has been articulated for about a tenth of that time. However, Thomism has many of the same problems that were resolved in the theological reformation of the 16th and 17th centuries, and Van Til viewed himself as simply following the return to these Protestant doctrines to their logical conclusion when applied to apologetics. He considered himself to belong firmly in the same theological vein as Augustine and Calvin—indeed, in his Defense of the Faith, he defends himself as often from the Calvinistic creeds as directly from Scripture. In some ways, he thought that the Protestant Reformation, in reforming its theology, had neglected to reform its apologetics to fit its theology. It could be argued, indeed, that if Calvin had been a philosopher instead of a theologian, he may have agreed with Van Til that the existence of reason itself required the existence of God (Institutes of the Christian Religion I.5.4).

The chief and fundamental error of Thomism is in its concession of autonomy to man’s reason. Man tends to consider himself as rationally prime—if he is to trust anything, it must be because he considers it sensible. In essence, man sets himself up as his own god. Thomism concedes this in principle and tries to present man with proofs that are held in some supposed common ground. Some men may acknowledge this common ground, but if they are cross-examined, they will realize that they have no basis for any foundationalism at all, let alone a common ground with Christian philosophers. Presuppositionalism performs this cross-examination and tears the ground from under unbelievers by showing their inconsistencies in reason and even in attempting to reason.

Presuppositionalism has no quarrel with those who would use rational and empirical evidence to convince those willing to be convinced by those means. Their point, however, is precisely that there is no one naturally willing to be convinced. To the unbeliever, the evidence could conceivably point either way, so the choice is left to him, and it is perfectly rational for him to refuse. It is a matter of interpretation. Presuppositionalism recognizes this and attacks the unbeliever’s standards of proof and interpretation, showing them to have no basis in his own atheistic or skeptical philosophy, but that, to make sense of anything, he must submit his own interpretation to the One who has created the world and grants it meaning. Presuppositionalists take seriously and literally the idea that “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom [some translations “knowledge].” (Proverbs 1:7) Without the fear of God, there is no wisdom and knowledge.

As a note, the Reformed doctrine of God’s exhaustive providence and presuppositional apologetics are complementary—for if anything can happen outside of God’s ordination, then there is an element of chance in the world which leaves all facts open to autonomous interpretation. If God has not preinterpreted an event and granted it meaning, then it has only and every meaning that any individual who sees it assigns to it. He could assign it to luck or determinism or free will, but that event does not necessarily point to God. It is, as Van Til put it, simply a “brute fact.” This is in direct contradiction to the Psalm which says “the heavens declare the glory of God” and the Proverb (16:4) which says that “The Lord hath made all things for His purposes, even the wicked for the day of destruction.”

Further, presuppositional apologetics, by its strict adherence to Sola Scriptura and its commitment to defending Christian doctrine as a system rather than piecemeal, can preserve the doctrine of providence over and against those who consider it to be unreasonable, both within and without the church. To those outside of the church, the presuppositional apologist will point out that by denying the incoherence of juxtaposing God’s providence with human responsibility, they are simply begging the question of authority. To those inside the church, the same could be said, but if a person accepts the truth of God as presented by a presuppositionalist, he could completely avoid the erroneous doctrine of autonomous will. With Scripture as his sole and sufficient source of authoritative truth, and reason subordinate to and founded upon Scripture, he would avoid the error of those who try to subject Scripture to reason. Thomism, on the other hand, opens the door to such aberrant doctrines by conceding to man’s reason the ability to know truth independently of context and authority. It is this basis (or lack thereof) that allows man to invent doctrines that make sense to him as a man and hold them as true. If reason is prime, then it is allowed to independently draw conclusions; and in more extreme cases, it will even subordinate Scripture to itself.

A Word of Caution

Presuppositionalism must be seen in its full context as a distinctively Reformed apologetic. As a corollary of Reformed doctrine, it can only be fairly criticized by those who keep these doctrines in mind as well. Specifically, some have decried Van Til’s system as presenting a “magic bullet” cure to the problem of unbelief when such is not the case at all, nor has it ever been represented as such by Van Til or any responsible student of his. Van Til, along with all historic Calvinists, believed firmly in God’s sovereignty over salvation and belief and unbelief. As such, he believed that no amount of rational proof, even the epistemological proof of his transcendental system, could finally change the unbeliever’s heart to the point that he would submit to the claims of Christ. Only the Holy Spirit could do this, and He is sovereign in His dispensation of the saving grace of regeneration and faith.

Also, Van Til’s system must be viewed against the backdrop not only of the prevalent rationalism and idealism of his time, but also against the rising postmodernist and nihilistic systems. In America and especially in the church and school where he taught (both of which when they finally liberalized, he left and helped form a conservative nucleus elsewhere with J. Gresham Machen), a wave of pluralism was rising. Classical apologetics could simply not compete with this, not because the evidence was faulty, but because completely different standards of interpretation were being used. Indeed, one may wonder if the shift of the Western mind from modern to postmodern did not spell the obsolescence of Classical apologetics. One thing is certain, that shift did spell the end of common methods of rational interpretation and common standards of authority that had, till then, been prevalent in Western intellectual culture.

Van Til’s system is, then, not only an application of Reformed theology to apologetics, but also an attempt to deal with the shifting intellectual atmosphere and to preserve an absolutely biblical way of engaging each of the exploding fragments of the Western intellectual culture. Further, in its ability to do this, it also remains helpful for Christians who are dealing with these questions and preserves confidence in the old institutions of Reformed orthodoxy. Most of all, though, it seeks to glorify God by holding His truth unsullied and absolute, just as it proclaims itself to be.



Conclusion

Despite the antiquity of the venerable Thomistic system, it preserves in its root the poison of Romanism manifest in the syncretism of paganism and Christianity. A fully Reformed apologetic requires the acknowledgement of God’s primacy in all. God has revealed Himself primarily through His apostles and prophets in the divinely inspired Scriptures, and it is to these, not abstract concepts of reason, that the Christian apologist must demand allegiance. The Christian apologist must realize himself and show to his debater that these “abstract concepts of reason” would have no existence at all were Christianity not true. This is the heart of presuppositionalism—that the fear of the Lord ought not be a conclusion to reasoned proofs, nor something dichotomized from reasoned proofs, but rather is and by right ought to be “the beginning of wisdom.” With Augustine, the presuppositionalist says “Credo ut intelligam”—I believe in order to understand.

Baptism in the Spirit, Filling in the Spirit, and a Consideration of Variant Views on the Doctrine of Glossolalia as It Relates to the Preceding

By Colin Cutler

Term Paper for
BIB140DL
Theology of the Bible II (Dr. Martin Erdmann)
16 April 2007

Introduction and Thesis
This paper will explore the Biblical texts concerning baptism in and filling with the Holy Spirit, define both, and discuss the Pentecostal view of baptism in the Holy Spirit. The position advocated herein is distinct from the Pentecostal view, but does affirm the continuation of the miraculous gifts (i.e., glossolalia, interpretation, prophecy), so will also interact with the cessationist view of miraculous gifts.

Prophecies and Fulfillment of the Baptism in the Holy Spirit
The baptism of the Holy Spirit was prophesied in both the Old and the New Testaments. The prophet Joel gave the Word of God, saying “And afterward, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions” (Joel 2:28-30). In the New Testament, John the Baptist also prophesied a future baptism of the Holy Spirit, proclaiming “I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me will come one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not fit to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire” (Matthew 3:11; cf. Mark 1:8, Luke 3:16, John 1:33). Before ascending into heaven, Jesus commanded His disciples to remain “in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high” (Luke 24:49).

In Acts 1:4, 5, it is said that the disciples remained in the city as Jesus had commanded, waiting for the baptism in the Holy Spirit. On the day of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit was poured out upon the disciples, and “all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.” Peter, when he addressed the multitude, said that this was not only a fulfillment of Christ’s command and promise, but also a fulfillment of Joel’s prophecy (Acts 2:16-21).

What is Baptism in the Holy Spirit?
Baptism in the Holy Spirit is defined as that action of the Holy Spirit granting each regenerate Christian the gifts and power pertaining to him as part of the unified Body of Christ. Jesus said that the baptism of the Holy Spirit would give His followers “power from on high” (Luke 24:49); they were not to spread throughout the world until they had received this power.

The most exhaustive Biblical exposition of the baptism in the Holy Spirit is given in 1 Corinthians 12. Paul first outlines the gifts of the Holy Spirit and explaining that there are many different gifts given by the same Spirit for different uses in and the edification of the same Body. “Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good…all these are the work of one and the same Spirit, and He gives them to each one, just as He determines.”

All regenerate Christians receive some gift and are baptized in the Holy Spirit: “The body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts; and though all its parts are many, they form one body. So it is with Christ. For we were all baptized by one Spirit into one body—whether Jews or Greeks, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink.” (1 Corinthians 12:13) Further, we are each given different gifts: “Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? Do all have gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret?”

What is Filling in the Holy Spirit?
Filling in the Holy Spirit is defined as a special movement of the Holy Spirit empowering a person for a particular ministry or exercising a spiritual gift. It is related to, but distinct from, baptism in the Holy Spirit. Baptism is the impartation of spiritual gifts and is strictly a New Testament phenomenon, while the Holy Spirit fills a person in order for him to show supernatural power generally or to specifically exercise his gifts. There are several forms in the Bible: Old Testament empowerment for ministry, non-canonical prophecy, canonical inspiration, New Testament empowerment for ministry, and New Testament evidential empowerment.

Old Testament empowerment. In the Old Testament, it is frequently said that a servant of the Lord “was filled with the Holy Spirit” or that “the Holy Spirit came upon” him. The manifestation of this varied from case to case—similarly to the variant gifts of the Holy Spirit in the New Testament age—from the apparently mundane to the obviously supernatural.
Bezalel was filled with the Spirit of God that he might direct the building of the Tabernacle (Exodus 31:1-5, 35:30-35). The Spirit of God came upon the judges of Israel, empowering them to conquer the enemies of the Israelite nation; Othniel (Judges 3:10), Gideon (6:34), Jephthah (11:29), and Samson (14:6, 19, 15:14) all experienced this filling, which enabled them to lead incohesive armies against outnumbering forces, or even conquer great bands of enemies alone.
Likewise, Saul and David—the first kings of Israel—were “filled with the Holy Spirit” in order to accomplish works of God and to confirm their kingship. In 1 Samuel 11:6, the Bible says that “the Spirit of God came upon him in power…” and Saul proceeded to lead Israel against their enemies, defeating them and confirming the kingship the Lord had granted him. When David was anointed by Samuel, it is also said that “the Spirit came upon him.”

Non-canonical prophecy. Several times in the Old Testament books (as well as in some of the New Testament books, but before Christ’s death), the result of the filling of the Holy Spirit is a non-canonical prophecy. This is distinct from canonical inspiration, non-canonical prophecy either not being recorded in the canon or being recorded at second hand from an inspired writer; it is often used to encourage the people of God or give them direction.

The first recorded example of this is of the Israelite elders in the wilderness. “Then the Lord came down in the cloud and spoke with him, and He took of the Spirit that was on him and put the Spirit on the seventy elders. When the Spirit rested on them, they prophesied, but they did not do so again” (Numbers 11:24-29). Saul prophesied when the Holy Spirit came upon him; this was meant as a sign to confirm Samuel’s prophecy and Saul’s ordination to the kingship (1 Samuel 10:5-7, 9, 10). Amasai was also filled with the Holy Spirit and proclaimed “God will help you” to David as a proof of his loyalty when he wished to be one of David’s mighty men (1 Chronicles 12:18). Azariah gave a prophecy to King Asa which encouraged him to return himself and all of Israel to the service of the Lord (2 Chronicles 15:1-9), Jahaziel prophesied that God would conquer Israel’s enemies for her (2 Chronicles 20:14-17), and Zechariah prophesied punishment for Israel’s apostasy (2 Chronicles 24:20); in all these cases, it is said that “the Spirit of God came upon” the person.

There are also several cases in the New Testament recounting the Holy Spirit coming upon a person and inspiring a non-canonical prophecy. John the Baptist, the greatest of the prophets, was filled with the Holy Spirit from birth (Luke 1:15), Elizabeth was filled with the Spirit and blessed Mary (1:41-45), and Zechariah was filled with the Spirit, prophesying about his son’s place in the preparation for the kingdom of God (1:67-79). Also, Simeon had the Holy Spirit upon him, by Whom it had been revealed to him that “he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Christ,” and by Whom he was guided in order to see Jesus in the temple (2:25-32).

Inspiration of Scripture. The Holy Spirit inspired Holy Scripture. The Spirit of the Lord came upon Ezekiel for his prophecy against Israel in Ezekiel 11:5-12. Micah 3:8 explains that the prophet is “filled with power, with the Spirit of the LORD, and with justice and might, to declare to Jacob his transgression, to Israel his sin.”

Besides Ezekiel’s and Micah’s examples, it is also apparent from New Testament teaching that the biblical canon is directly inspired by the Holy Spirit. Paul writes to Timothy that “all Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness…” (2 Timothy 3:16). The apostle Peter also writes concerning the prophets “above all, you must understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet’s own interpretation. For prophecy never had its origin in the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Peter 1:20, 21).

It could be argued that there should not be two classes of prophecy. This distinction, however, will be maintained on several grounds. The chief distinction is that “non-canonical” prophecies, though truly inspired by the Holy Spirit, were meant for a specific case with specific circumstances, and do not compose an authoritative address to all men at all times.

The second distinction is chiefly applicable to the New Testament age. When messages claiming to be prophecies are given, they must be subject to Scripture. The canon is closed, having been built on the foundation of the prophets and apostles (Eph. 2:20); there is no entirely new revelation for the Christian church, for the prophets and apostles are no longer on earth. The author of Hebrews says “In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days He has spoken to us by His Son, Whom He appointed heir of all things, and through Whom He made the universe…we must pay more careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away” (Hebrews 1:1, 2, 2:1). “What we have heard,” of course, is the doctrine and witness of the apostles, who had heard the words of Jesus and remembered them by the Holy Spirit (John 4:26; cf. 2 Thess. 3:6). So, whereas inspired Scripture is supremely authoritative, messages must be subject to Scripture in order to be accepted as prophecies (cf. 2 Thess. 5:21, 1 John 4:1).

New Testament Empowerment. Throughout the book of Acts, there are several places where it is said that a Christian was “filled with the Spirit” in order to further his activity for God. The first is at Pentecost, when the disciples in the upper room were baptized in the Spirit, and “were filled with the Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them” (Acts 2:4). Soon after, when Peter and John were brought before the Sanhedrin, the Holy Spirit filled Peter, giving him the words to defend the truth of God (Acts 4:8; cf. Luke 12:11, 12). After being released, they returned to the other disciples and prayed, after which they were again “filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke the word of God boldly” (4:31).

After Saul was struck down on the Damascus road, God sent Ananias to him that Saul might receive a filling of the Holy Spirit (Acts 9:15-17). The Holy Spirit filled Paul at another time, giving him the authority to rebuke Elymas the sorcerer, even calling him a child of the devil (Acts 13:9; cf. Jude 9). The disciples of God were all filled with the Holy Spirit at the spreading of the Word of God and the opportunity to suffer persecution for Christ’s sake (Acts 13:49-52; cf. James 1:2), though the exact manifestation of this particular case is not stated.

New Testament Evidential Empowerment. The first occurrences of the baptism in the Holy Spirit were also accompanied by an immediate filling in the Holy Spirit, evidenced by speaking in other languages. In Acts 2:4, “All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues.” When Peter witnessed to the Gentiles of Cornelius’ household, “the Holy Spirit came on all who had heard the message. The circumcised believers who had gone with Peter were astonished that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles. For they heard them speaking in tongues and praising God.” (Acts 10:44-46). Likewise, the Ephesian believers had been baptized into John’s baptism, but had not received the Holy Spirit, nor indeed knew of the Holy Spirit. After Paul baptized them in the name of Christ, “the Holy Spirit came on them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied.” (Acts 19:1-6).

In all three of these cases, it is certain that this speaking in other languages was a sign that they had received the Holy Spirit, and thus a sign that they should be accepted as part of the body of Christ. After Cornelius’s household began speaking in tongues, Peter exclaimed, “Can anyone keep these people from being baptized with water? They have received the Holy Spirit just as we have” (Acts 10:47). This sign was necessary to convince the other believers to “not call anything impure that God has made clean” (Acts 10:15; cf. 45-47 and 11:15-18), answering finally the question of whether or not the Gentiles were properly part of the church. Similarly, the believers at Ephesus had only been baptized by John the Baptist. They had not heard of the Holy Spirit, and it is possible that they did not know that the Messiah had come; when they were baptized into Christ, however, they were also baptized and filled with the Spirit.

Several Contrasting Views

Contra Pentecostalism. There is a significant movement in the Christian church, known as Pentecostalism, which advocates the view that the baptism in the Holy Spirit is a second experience completely distinct from salvation, and not necessarily received as part of the process of sanctification. Further, it is held that the sign of this baptism in the Holy Spirit is speaking in tongues, based on the example of the disciples at Pentecost.

There are several objections to this. First, baptism in the Holy Spirit cannot be completely separated from salvation, for Paul emphasizes the unity of the body of Christ and the plurality of gifts distributed within it when he writes “The body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts; and though all its parts are many, they form one body. For we were all baptized by one Spirit into one Body…” (1 Corinthians 12:12, 13). John the Baptist clearly delineates a dichotomy between baptism in the Spirit and baptism by fire in Matthew 3:11, 12: “…He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire. His winnowing fork is in His hand, and He will clear His threshing floor, gathering His wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.” John is here addressing both believers (present and future), who will be baptized “with the Holy Spirit,” and unbelievers, who will be baptized “with fire.” Given the biblical dichotomy of good and evil, believers and unbelievers, it follows that all who are not baptized in the Spirit will be baptized in fire—and that all who will not be baptized in fire are baptized in the Spirit. Therefore, those who are “baptized in the Spirit” cannot be distinguished from those who are saved; the classes comprise the same persons.

Their assertion that speaking in tongues is the necessary evidence of baptism is also faulty: “Do all have gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret?” (1 Corinthians 12:30). What, then, of the experience at Pentecost, and the “speaking in tongues” of the Ephesians and Cornelius’s family? First, though Pentecost was indeed the time at which the Holy Spirit was poured out on believers, and they were baptized in Him, the baptism itself was not the immediate cause of their glossolalia. It says in the passage on Pentecost (and in the others), that “they were filled with the Spirit.” The filling was the immediate cause of their speaking in tongues—not their baptism. And from the other examples shown above, both Old and New Testament, it is apparent that neither the baptism in nor the filling with the Holy Spirit is bound to result in glossolalia; the Holy Spirit works for His sovereign purposes, and He uses different tools for these purposes. It is best to understand these cases as needful evidences to resolve certain controversies in the early church and the surrounding culture.

One need not wonder if one is simply “not holy enough” to speak in tongues, which can lead to legalism and a supercilious attitude for those who do speak in tongues, and morbid introspection for those who don’t. Paul says that not all will speak in tongues; this is normal. Further, Paul commands the Corinthians to “eagerly desire the greater gifts” (1 Cor. 12:31)—speaking in tongues is the last of the gifts. We are to “try to excel in gifts that build up the church…you may be giving thanks well enough, but the other man is not edified” (1 Cor. 14:12, 17).

It is beyond the scope of this paper to explore the Pentecostal doctrines of “prayer languages,” and their distinction between this and the “gift of tongues” (the former which they assert can be exercised by all, the latter only by those who have been given the gift). However, it is the position advocated in this paper, that despite the Pentecostal misapplication of the baptism of the Holy Spirit, the miraculous gifts such as glossolalia and prophecy are continued to the present day, though only as the Holy Spirit gifts individuals.

Contra Cessationism. There is another widespread belief that the miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit ended with the apostolic age, based on 1 Corinthians 13 and Ephesians 2:20. The first says that “where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.” The Ephesians passage asserts that the church’s foundation is on the testimony of the apostles and prophets.

The Ephesians passage is no obstacle to a continuationist view, so long as prophecy and tongues are understood to not be new revelation and to be subordinate to Scripture, as stated above. Obviously, prophecy exactly parallel to or based upon Scripture can be readily accepted, a message contradictory to Scripture must be discarded—for it is not truly prophecy at all—and prophecy with an indeterminate basis should be judged by the same standards as in Deuteronomy 18:21-22: “‘How can we know when a message has not been spoken by the Lord?’ If what a prophet proclaims in the name of the Lord does not take place or come true, that is a message the Lord has not spoken. That prophet has spoken presumptuously. Do not be afraid of him.”

Nor does the 1 Corinthians passage necessarily imply cessationism. The “imperfect” refers back to the gifts, but “the perfect” refers to when “we shall see face to face” (v. 12). This cannot be the closing of the canon: though the completion of the canon is a completion of authority for the church, it is not itself “the perfect”—it points us to the perfect, but we are still living by faith, waiting for the completion of God’s plan for the world and the resulting perfection (cf. Hebrews 11:13-16). In the meantime, God has given us the gifts of the Holy Spirit to empower us to effectively spread His gospel throughout the world, and we are to use them within Scriptural bounds.

Conclusion
The baptism in the Holy Spirit is a privilege bestowed upon believers in order that we may spread God’s word and edify the church. It is given to all believers and does not necessitate speaking in tongues—on the other hand, miraculous gifts are just as much a part of the church now as they were in the apostolic age. We would do well to heed Paul’s admonition regarding the use of the gifts bestowed in baptism: “Therefore, my brothers, be eager to prophesy, and do not forbid speaking in tongues. But everything should be done in a fitting and orderly way.”