My own view begins with the thesis:

God does not approach man first of all as professor. Rather, He stands before man as Lord and as Judge. Perhaps this sounds a bit irreverent to you; I hope not. The point I wish to make is that our community—the Christian Reformed Church more than other branches of Reformed Christendom tends to approach many questions with a professorial frame of mind, rather than a confessional frame of mind. The study committee which the synod of 1988 established to “look into,” a range of issues that arise from the Van Till question illustrates my point. We no longer seem, as church, to be in the business of confession; instead, as church-turned-college, we “investigate” and “study.” Rev. Henry Vander Kam has recently made some valuable observations about this curious practice.

General revelation is not part of a lecture which God as the divine professor addresses to us. Rather, general revelation (I use the term here for the sake of brevity, although I would prefer to avoid it altogether) has the main purpose of making fallen man feel uneasy before a greater power; in other words, the revelation that we have come to call general revelation, of which Paul speaks in Romans 1, is not informational in character but stands within a framework of judgment. The heading in the Harper Study Bible rightly says “The Gentiles: Guilty before God.” The thought expressed in that heading is precisely Paul’s point. He indeed speaks in verse 19 of “what can be known about God,” but he sets the context in the preceding verse: “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and wickedness of men . . . .” We must not, then, think of general revelation as some sort of almanac. “So they are without excuse . . .” says Paul (vs. 20). General revelation must be understood within the framework of salvation and judgment.

“Creation Science”?

At this point you might yet be dubious about my claim that Diekema and company are using un-Vantillian arguments to defend Van Till. If so, I ask you to ponder Van Till’s attitude toward so-called creation science, an intellectual tradition and way of thinking that falls within the scope of what I have been calling natural theology. This tradition seeks to establish knowledge of God and His acts on the basis of an inspection of this world itself, that is to say, apart from Scripture or special revelation. Traditional natural theology (think of Thomas Aquinas) endeavors to prove God’s existence by beginning with human experience. And recent creation science tries to show that God is the Creator by reasoning in empirical scientific fashion from the givens of nature. Hence it seeks to include a so-called “scientifically established” doctrine of creation in public school textbooks.

Van Till and company maintain that creation science rests on a misconception—and I agree with them. Whatever we may choose to say about the doctrine of creation, I agree that it is not the outcome of a process of scientific reasoning. When we confess that God is the Maker of heaven and earth, it is because He has revealed this truth to us.

My next conclusion is that it is a mistake to suppose that Van Till is simply dusting offthe tradition we usually associate with Thomas Aquinas. When he says, in the new book, that we must “distinguish scientific matters from religious matters” (Science Held Hostage, p. 172), he leaves no room for drawing conclusions about God from the study of nature or physical reality; in other words, he rejects what I have been calling natural theology. And so, once we learn to see beyond the ill-chosen title and subtitle of The Fourth Day, we realize that for Van Till, physical reality tells us nothing about God. His slogan of “categorical complementarity” (see The Fourth Day, p. 205) means that science and religion re present two entirely separate areas of discourse that do not overlap. Therefore do not look to science to find out what God is like. And do not ask religion—or theology to explain the workings of physical reality. Van Till says over and over that we have to be careful not to ask the wrong questions of science, on the one band, or of the Bible, on the other.

At this juncture I must pause and underscore the point on which I agree with Van Till. When be faults the creation science people for trying to establish a doctrine of creation via normal scientific reasoning and argumentation, I am with him. (And so are a great many Reformed friends and colleagues of mine; indeed, I would maintain that the creation science position on this question had almost no support at all in Christian Reformed circles until fairly recently.) Where Van Till and I differ is that he does not allow theology or the Bible (I would like to speak of our confessions here as well) to tell us anything about the nature of physical reality; ultimately, he leaves the Christian community saying nothing about origins in the strong sense. (Bear in mind that for Van Till, the question of origins is to be distinguished from the question of “formation”: see pp. 20–21, 167 and 177–178 of Science Held Hostage.)

At the very outset I made it clear that I disagree with the idea that forms the pillar of the Diekema defense of Van Till, namely, that one finds out what God is like by studying nature. (Instead we find out what God is like via His revelation of Himself in Christ and in Scripture.) The Diekema defense involves a form of natural theology reasoning that I have been arguing against for years-most recently in the publications I mentioned earlier. (I have commented on the doctrine of general revelation on pp. 50–54 of Contending for the Faith and also on pp. 88–90 of Public Knowledge and Christian Education.)

Yet Diekema’s reasoning has a lot of appeal to conservative Reformed folks. (How else could we make sense of Henry Vanden Heuvel’s pilgrimage?) In other words, Reformed people right across the spectrum, from fairly conservative to fairly progressive, have long been accustomed to talking in expansive terms about nature revealing God. Appeals to Article 2 of the Belgic Confession, and to some language used by John Calvin (remember that Bavinck criticized him for this), will sound familiar to many of you.

Independent General Revelation: A Dangerous Error

Why is such thinking dangerous and mistaken? Let me spell out, briefly, two reasons. First, it has the effect of giving science an independent voice in the church. Such thinking in effect lays a new requirement on the church: before she may speak in the name of the Lord, she must consult not only Scripture but also science—which in practice means the Calvin College faculty. Secondly, the emphasis on revelation in nature (remember that our specific knowledge of nature comes to us for the most part via what we call science) takes away from the centrality of Scripture as the Word of God, and therefore also undermines the centrality of preaching.

But now back to Diekema and Van Till. One of the curious features of the present situation, then, is that Diekema defends Van Till by using what amounts to un-Vantillian reasoning, namely, natural theology thinking. Perhaps this incongruity helps explain why Van Till has not been saying more in his own defense. The inner logic of his thinking is that the sharp split between science and religion (his terms—I would prefer to speak here of the “neutrality of science”) is the best defense. If we once accept his premises, criticism is quickly seen to be unfounded.

Who, then, is confused? Not just President Diekema, for the title of Van Till’s original book creates confusion. The heavens most emphatically do not tell us about God and His work as Creator; they tell us only about themselves, according to Van Till. In philosophical terms, Van Till’s position is that physical reality is “internally intelligible” (see Science Held Hostage, p. 42); that is to say, it makes sense in and of itself, without reference to anything non-physical beyond it. This, by the way, is precisely the thesis which Christian schools take such pains to deny, which is why one finds Christian school people complaining that Van Till is undermining the Christian school movement.

I think it will help to sort the objections to Van Till into two categories. Some of the objections are theological or perhaps creedal: they have to do with his use of the Bible and his failure to affirm fundamental Reformed doctrines, such as creation and original sin. These objections are the ones that have given occasion to official church concern and should continue to do so, in my judgment. The other category of objections could be called philosophical: his position on the nature of scientific knowledge is contrary to what our colleges and high schools have, by and large, been teaching for quite some time now. (Please note that these philosophical disagreements cannot be settled by appeals to the Three Forms of Unity.)

Van Till’s defense of himself is in terms of the second type of objection, in other words, he takes on the mantle of philosopher. (I have no “professional” objection to his assuming this mantle, by the way; I would, however, point out that the philosophy he is peddling cuts the ground out from under Christian education.) Diekema’s defense of Van Till, on the other hand, is in terms of the first (theological) type of objection. In other words, Diekema responds to theological charges in theological terms. This seems appropriate, but the irony of the situation is that in doing so he uses ideas which Van Till himself does not accept. (Indeed, he attacks them.)

By now you are wondering what conclusions can be offered on the basis of such an analysis. Since I am in a sense preaching to the converted, that is, addressing people who basically agree with me in my deep concern at the impasse we have reached, I believe I can best wrap up this address not with an emotional appeal for anger or action but with an application of what I have already said.

The first point in that application is that we who call ourselves conservatives must be careful not to slip into the expansive conception of general revelation ourselves, for it winds up placing the seal of divine approval and authority on the pronouncements of scientists. If we make.this mistake, we might just as well join the three professors in affirming that “. . . natural science chooses to remain silent on questions concerning the relationship of the material world to other realms of being” (Science Held Hostage, p. 170). Well folks, I have news for you: natural science as referred to here by the three professors simply does not exist—but scientists do. All such generalizations about “science” are really statements about scientist show they think and act. To claim that science is neutral is to claim that the people who are engaged in science are neutral in their thinking and acting. Just when did Reformed people start believing such a thing?

Lest you think I am splitting hairs here, let me quote you another passage: “Science, performed with integrity, is eager to recognize its own limitations in both domain and methodology” (p. 152). Here the three professors even attribute feelings to this unreal abstraction called science!

Secondly, once we have achieved some clarity ourselves on what is wrong with the expansive view of general revelation, we need to explain our concern patiently to denominational leaders—such as the folks who run Calvin College and the Banner. We need to make it clear to them why

scientists do not speak with an independent authority in church matters. As we make this point, name-calling will do us no good, nor will it advance the cause to question or deny the personal integrity of the people we are pleading with. We must take at face value their claim that they do the things they do in an effort to serve Christ and His kingdom.

Thirdly, as far the professors themselves are concerned, there are two lines of action to be pursued. Within the framework of our system of church government, we should continue to press the case that their position is not compatible with Reformed doctrine and the creeds. There is still plenty of time to get this matter placed before the next synod.

The second line to pursue in relation to the professors is to ask them why they wish to teach in Christian schools. More pointedly, we should ask them why in the world there ought to be separate Christian schools at all if science is neutral and is not affected by the consequences of human sinfulness. When I was a child growing up in the Christian Reformed Church, I was taught that the fruits of mankind’s rebellion against God extend to all sectors of life. No exception was made for scientists and their work!

It is my responsibility as a teacher of philosophy in one of our colleges to make the case for Christian education. I am hampered in that work by the position being taken by the three professors, whom I would like to regard as my colleagues and fellow laborers.

An abridged version of a speech presented at a meeting of the Reformed Fellowship held in Grandville, Michigan on September 29, 1988. Dr. Plantinga is a Professor of Philosophy at Redeemer College at Ancaster (near Hamilton), Ontario.