In his recent book Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew, Hans Boersma, the now Anglican priest, professor, and author makes the provocative claim: “No Plato, no Scripture.” He contends, “The Bible cannot be interpreted without prior metaphysical commitments, and we need Christian Platonism as an interpretive lens in order to uphold Scripture’s teaching.”[1]
1. Hans Boersma, Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2021), 39, emphasis mine.
My response to this logic is that Platonism leads to the death of theology and philosophy in a dark cave, whereas Christianity leads to true wisdom, knowledge, and eternal life thanks to the empty tomb of the risen Christ. To be blunt, Plato was one of the captives in his allegorical cave who would have raised his hands against the incarnate Logos (John 3:19–20). While other contributors to this month’s theme have done a fine job going deep into the weeds to unearth what Christian Platonism is, my aim in this essay is to mount a case against the very notion of affixing the modifier of “Christian” to Platonism.
Far from being a needed interpretive lens, Platonism is a competing worldview with that of Christianity. As Christians seek to plunder Greek philosophy, we must be very wary of “breaking faith” by committing the sin of Achan and smuggling that which is devoted to destruction into our camp (Exod. 12:35–36; Josh. 7:1, 20–26). Furthermore, while I am not hostile to philosophy or even to Plato (I personally enjoy reading “the Platonic books” as Augustine would call his corpus), I am hostile to the notion that we need a pagan philosophy to uphold the Bible. Does the Spirit of God need Plato to make his word coherent to God’s people? Do those with sight need blind tour guides? To borrow from the apostle Paul: by no means (mē genoito)!
Christian Platonism, I contend, has it precisely backwards. Christians need the “spectacles of Scripture” (to borrow from Calvin) in order to clearly see and know God, ourselves, and the world—and, I should add, to train our powers of discernment to distinguish the good from the evil in Platonism (Heb. 5:14). In place of Boersma’s proposal, I will argue God’s authoritative revelation in Scripture provides Christians with its own interpretive lens (Scripture is the ultimate interpreter of Scripture) and its own metaphysics. Theology does not need any system of philosophy because it is rooted and grounded in Christ, who “became for us wisdom from God” and is thus the interpretive lens required for upholding Scripture’s teaching (1 Cor. 1:30; Col. 1:15–20). I am sure Boersma and other self-professing Christian Platonists agree with the last half of the previous sentence, but it is the first part—which I aim to show with the help of John Calvin, John Owen, Herman Bavinck, and others within the Reformed tradition—that preserves the integrity of the second half.
The Devolution of Remnantal Sophistry from Original Revelation
What is philosophy and where did it come from? John Owen helpfully draws out how Plato and other philosophers pursued knowledge of this world and even the immaterial/invisible world due to the fragments/remnants remaining from man’s original/natural knowledge of God in the Garden of Eden. Owen explains:
There will be no dispute that the original theology was fatally flawed by the fall, and every student of history can report how its remnants were soon overloaded with most pernicious superstition . . . the universal sway of superstition was the natural result of a steady downwards course and the natural outcome of its beginnings . . . To put it another way, philosophy is an off-shoot from the true inborn theology of our first ancestor [Adam] before the fall, amplified by the revelation proclaimed by the works of God, refined by deep intellectual speculation, but always lacking the elements needed to deal with the fatal handicap of sin . . .
Our conclusion is thus, that philosophy had at first no other end but an attempted restoration of primeval theology from its collapsed and ruined state through the overwhelming onset of sin. This was the road on which the thinking part of humanity embarked in its attempt to repair the breach . . .
The first non-priestly philosophers were produced by Greece which, as we shall see, marked a further downward step in human thinking. In this period, we can still trace some dim resemblances of truth amid the gathering gloom of revolting superstition; but, in the outcome, the result was not the restoration of natural theology, and whatever better notions had survived at first, but rather its progressively deeper corruption. Every scrap of philosophy surviving to us, as we search back to the remotest antiquity, bears witness to this fact. That feeble and flickering light within human nature was roughly taken in hand by human vanity, and led round and about in weary confusion until, at length, it was bogged down in the mires and quicksands of idle curiosity, endless squabbles, and useless speculations, until it was all but choked to death![2]
2. John Owen, Biblical Theology: The History of Theology from Adam to Christ (Grand Rapids: Soli Deo Gloria Publications, 2022), 83, 85, 88.
Thus, as Owen demonstrates, philosophy, at least among the pagans, is fallen man’s attempt to interpret natural theology and the natural order without the spectacles of Scripture—or at least without faith in the authority of the Bible. Furthermore, philosophy in the minds of the unregenerate is futile due to the “fatal handicap of sin,” as from Genesis 3 onward non-believers were deprived of the light of the divine Logos (see 2 Cor. 4:1–6).
I am, however, convinced Plato was not merely interacting with natural theology entirely devoid of special revelation, but offered (at times) insightful (though unregenerate) wisdom while engaging with an admixture of general and special revelation. Peter Leithart captures this well in his essay Did Plato Read Moses?:
Pagans hold to certain moral principles that are compatible with Christian morality not only because they are inescapably confronted with God’s revelation in creation, but also because they have been directly or indirectly exposed to an influence by the Spirit’s operating through special revelation and other means of grace. Whatever moral consensus exists is thus not a product of pure ‘common grace’ (devoid of all contact with revelation), nor of ‘special grace’ (saving knowledge of God through Christ and his word), but what I call . . . ‘middle grace’ (non-saving knowledge of God and his will derived from both general and special revelation).[3]
3. Peter Leithart, Did Plato Read Moses? Middle Grace and Moral Consensus, (Biblical Horizons Occasional Paper 23 (Niceville, FL: Biblical Horizons, 1995). For more on this concept of the “admixture” of general and special revelation in forming a moral consensus, see Daniel Strange’s book: Their Rock Is Not Like Our Rock: A Theology of Religions (Grand Rapids, Zondervan, 2014).
Leithart’s thinking is by no means unprecedented, as Justin Martyr was convinced Plato borrowed from (at least) Moses’s writings, while also quickly noting that despite “seeds of truth . . . they [philosophers] are charged with not accurately understanding [the truth] when they assert contradictories.”[4] This is because the revelational traditions passed down from Adam increasingly devolved into remnantal distortions of the original revelation over time, particularly from the Tower of Babel onward.[5] Owen is again insightful,
4. Justin Martyr, First Apology, 44. He writes, “And so, too, Plato, when he says, The blame is his who chooses, and God is blameless, took this from the prophet Moses and uttered it. For Moses is more ancient than all the Greek writers. And whatever both philosophers and poets have said concerning the immortality of the soul, or punishments after death, or contemplation of things heavenly, or doctrines of the like kind, they have received such suggestions from the prophets as have enabled them to understand and interpret these things.”
5. Owen explains, “However, it cannot be denied that the Greeks of antiquity advanced the study of philosophy far after its inception in earlier cultures. Some elements they learned by hearsay, some they took over from the records of the east, and some elements they learned at the feet of the masters in the course of travels undertaken for this very purpose. These were, then, superadded to the more general notions about God and creation, and about moral right and wrong which they could find out for themselves.” Biblical Theology, 86.
It was impossible for these early generations to lose totally the knowledge that they had of God (either passed on by their parents, or still available as wandering traditions), but, as I presume is ever the case with men who have but a few sparks of divine light left among their darkness, they fell to fearing God, but worshipping idols. As time passed, all revealed theology was bypassed, and even the memory of the solemn promise of a deliverer and the divine Covenant faded away from them.”[6]
Or as Bavinck explains, God’s purpose in separating Abraham/Israel from the nations is to save his elect and to preserve supernatural truth, as special revelation became particularly redemptive and preservative in nature after Babel. He writes,
The segregation of Israel served the sole purpose of maintaining, unmixed and unadulterated, continuing and perfecting the original revelation which more and more threatened to be lost, so that it might again in the fullness of time be made the property of the whole of mankind. The promise became temporarily particular, in order that thus it might later become universal.[7]
Thus, one could say that Platonism is an example of what happens when the original revelation is mixed and adulterated, resulting in fallen man’s philosophy devolving into remnantal sophistry (fallacy-making) since they are “depraved in mind and deprived of truth” (1 Tim. 6:5). Platonism is not, therefore, a philosophical breakthrough allowing man to ascend into enlightenment, but a groping around on hands and knees in the dark cave of a Genesis 3 world.
6. Owen, Biblical Theology, 240–41.
7. Philosophy of Revelation: A New Annotated Edition ed. by Cory Brock and Nathaniel Gray Sutanto and trans. by Geerhardus Vos, Nicholas M. Steffens, and Henry Dosker (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2018), 157.
The Creator-creature Distinction: The Bible’s Metaphysic
Christian theology (and all sound reason) rests upon the Creator-creature distinction, a sharp metaphysical/ontological divide established by Moses under the Spirit’s inspiration in verse 1 of the Bible: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” (Gen. 1:1, emphasis added). Or as the author of Hebrews elucidates later, “By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible” (Heb. 11:3, emphasis added). In agreement with Pierce Hibbs’ contribution to this month’s theme, I would emphasize that the Christian starting point for metaphysics and epistemology is the speech of God. God’s Word produced everything in creation, and every creature should therefore be distinguished sharply from the Creator, who is blessed forever (Rom. 1:25).
This is (in part) what Owen is referencing by the “true inborn theology of our first ancestor [Adam] before the fall.” As Herman Bavinck rightly teaches, “From the very first moment, true religion distinguishes itself from all other religions by the fact that it construes the relation between God and the world, including man, as that between the Creator and his creature.”[8] This revelation was concreated[9] in Adam but the deluding effect of sin on fallen man’s thinking effectively causes men to knowingly, intentionally, and willfully reject God’s revelation—or “suppress the truth in unrighteousness,” to use Paul’s terminology (Rom. 1:18). But, as Steven Duby is right to point out, “suppressing presupposes possessing.”[10] In fact, this is why Paul, for example, can seamlessly move from an “unknown God” to “God is Creator and Judge;” he is assuming the “universal implications of Jewish monotheism and creation theology” are possessed and suppressed by stoic philosophers he is debating at the Areopagus in Acts 17.[11]
8. Herman Bavinck, In the Beginning: Foundations of Creation Theology (Ada, MI: Baker Publishing Group, 1999), 24.
9. This word means “created with,” and is explained well by Bavinck: “[Concreation] does not mean that all people are immediately endowed by God himself with sufficient knowledge so as to be able to dispense with revelation. The term does not say that we are able, all by ourselves, to deduce conscious, clear, and valid knowledge of God from the contents of our own minds. What it does say is that we possess both the capacity (aptitude, faculty) and the inclination (habitus, disposition) to arrive at some firm, certain, and unfailing knowledge of God . . . It arises spontaneously and without coercion, without scientific argumentation and proof.” Reformed Dogmatics 4 Vols., ed. John Bolt; trans. John Vriend (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008), 2:71.
10. Steven J. Duby, God in Himself: Scripture, Metaphysics, and the Task of Christian Theology (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2019), 68.
11. See Duby, God in Himself, 63–64.
Though God’s “invisible attributes” (namely his eternal power and divine nature) are clearly revealed in nature (Rom. 1:20), fallen humans suppress this knowledge. As Daniel Strange avers, “The archetypal sin of Adam and Eve in the garden, in which we are all federally included, and of which subsequent sins are repeated instantiations, involves a blurring of this Creator-creature distinction, a de-creation, whereby we pull God down to the level of the creature and push ourselves up to the level of Creator.”[12] This idolatry on the part of fallen humanity “includes both physical and mental creations. Crucially, its scope includes not only displacements of the triune God, but also distortions and denials.”[13] Once sin enters the world, fallen man worships and serves the creature rather than the Creator (Rom. 1:25).
When it comes to understanding the “greatest philosophers” (a self-derived title) like Plato, we must keep in mind that they were master mental idolaters, sifting through the brokenness of human cognition now exiled from Eden, hopelessly seeking to repair the breach in their thinking caused by sin. As Stephen Wellum explains, “The history of philosophy has also revealed the basic antithesis between Christian and non-Christian thought, that ‘ideas have consequences,’ and that the attempt to ground human knowledge apart from God and his revelation, is futile.” This is true, because apart from the light of God’s word, natural theology is only sufficient to condemn, since, apart from supernatural revelation, fallen man—even the great philosophers—in “claiming to be wise . . . became fools, exchanging the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things” (Rom. 1:22–23).
12. Daniel Strange, Their Rock is not like Our Rock: A Theology of Religions (Grand Rapids, Zondervan, 2014), 73.
13. Strange, Their Rock is not like Our Rock, 77.
Christian Platonism Undermines the Creator-creature Distinction
As previously stated, Platonism (and Neoplatonism) is just one more expression among many in humanity’s long track record of distorting the Creator-creature distinction. And I contend that sticking the modifier of “Christian” on the front of this particular philosophy will lead to smuggling in error rather than plundering truth. One example of this I will shed light on very briefly which rears its ugly head in Boersma’s theology is in his understanding of participation/deification.[14] Boersma teaches that just as human beings sacramentally partake of God’s being in their coming from him in creation, in redemption/glorification God graciously draws us back into himself as Christ “makes us more than human by uniting us with himself in the incarnation.”[15] This language of sacramental ontology and becoming more than human via deification in the afterlife is problematic, and happens to be precisely what Bavinck is (rightly) condemning when he contends:
14. Though it goes beyond the scope of this essay to go into detail about precisely how Christian Platonism (as presented by Boersma) undermines the sharp Creator-creature distinction, I write extensively on this topic in my essay: “The Imago Dei Shapes the Visio Dei: Herman Bavinck’s Covenantal Formulation of the Image of God from the Garden of Eden to New Jerusalem,” which is forthcoming in the upcoming edition of The Southern Baptist Journal of Theology.
15. Hans Boersma, Seeing God: The Beatific Vision in the Christian Tradition (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 2018), 221.
Regardless of how high and glorious Reformed theologians conceived the state of glory to be, human beings remained human even there, indeed raised above ‘their natural position’ but never ‘above their own kind’ and ‘that which is analogous to that.’ Humanity’s blessedness indeed lies in the ‘beatific vision of God,’ but this vision will always be such that finite and limited human nature is capable of it. A divinization, such as Rome teaches, indeed fits into the system of the Pseudo-Dionysian hierarchy but has no support in Scripture.[16]
Bavinck roundly rejects a view of God which amounts to a “melting union” and is grounded upon “a Neo-platonic vision of God and a mystical fusion of the soul with God”[17] and necessitates the “erasure of the boundary between the Creator and the creature.”[18] In full agreement with Bavinck’s assessment, I am convinced Boersma’s admitted presupposition of Platonic participation (or “realism”) is not upholding scriptural teaching, but undermining the Bible by making the very errors Bavinck exposes above. Platonism is driving Boersma to read “between the lines” rather than take the words of the Bible at face value. An example of this is when Boersma avers,
16. Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, 2:190–191.
17. Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, 2:539.
18. Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, 2:190.
I am fairly confident that the extent of our eschatological transfiguration will be much more thoroughgoing than many of us suspect and that even our biblical language will literally prove infinitely inadequate to the task of describing the earthly reality that will have been transformed or divinized into our heavenly home.[19]
All Christians certainly join Paul and rejoice in the glorious truth: “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Cor. 2:9). Heaven will indeed surpass our wildest sanctified imagination. But it is quite another thing to suggest that while the words of the Bible itself prove inadequate to describe our heavenly home, Platonism provides the needed metaphysics to fill in the blanks. All this illogic does is move us away from the gains of the Reformation back toward Rome or Eastern Orthodoxy (see Knox Brown’s essay from this month’s theme for more on this point). In fact, Bavinck would certainly (and rightly) charge Boersma’s argument to be more in line with Roman Catholicism and/or Eastern Orthodoxy than the Reformed tradition. Bavinck finds these other traditions guilty of inverting the Creator-creature relationship because for them “the point of gravity does not lie in satisfaction for and forgiveness of sin, but in the humanization of God and the divinization of man.”[20] The point of gravity for them is God giving his superadded grace or energy and elevating man to participate in his essence. Bavinck explains,
19. Hans Boersma, Heavenly Participation: The Weaving of a Sacramental Tapestry (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 4.
20. Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, 2:548.
In Rome’s view . . . Sin has not in any way changed the nature of grace . . . both before and after the fall it was identically the same, namely an elevation [of man] above nature. That is its character and essence . . . preeminently it is not a reparation but an elevation of nature; it serves to elevate nature above itself, that is, to divinize humanity.[21]
21. Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, 2:547. Of the Eastern Church Bavinck writes, “[T]he dominant emphasis was on humanity’s liberation from the corruption of sin to be made partakers of the divine nature, the West emphasized legal themes such as obedience, guilt, and forgiveness. Christ’s death, rather than his incarnation, was the point of gravity, Reformed Dogmatics, 1:116.
He then concludes that this position was opposed by the Reformation “as a matter of fundamental principle.”[22] Now, of course, those Bavinck is criticizing (which would include contemporary Christian Platonists) could contend their systems do not erase such boundaries. But despite their claims to the contrary, their doctrine(s) of participation/deification entails such a conclusion. While I take Boersma’s stated aim to not impose Platonism over the Bible to be genuine,[23] I find that in the end his project in fact tunes the Bible to Platonism. The result is not a better understanding of the Bible, but a corrupted understanding of God’s revelation.
22. Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, 2:549.
Since Boersma and other Christian Platonists have a “prior metaphysical commitment” to interpreting Scripture, they misplace the human problem. They therefore get off on the wrong foot theologically, and ultimately distort and even threaten to erase the Bible’s fundamental ontological distinction between Creator and creature as their participatory sacramentalism ends up humanizing God and divinizing man. It is difficult for me to see how this does not become a way station for the blasphemous false doctrine of Panentheism. For those unfamiliar with this term, Reformed apologist James Anderson offers a concise definition and explanation before drawing attention to the heart of the problem with this teaching:
23. Boermsa writes, “We dare not impose the pagan philosophy of Plato (or anyone else) on Holy Scripture . . . Still it is true that the early church typically read Scripture through the metaphysical lens of Christian Platonism, and I will argue that this approach safeguards rather than hampers biblical teaching.” Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew, 39. I believe Boersma confuses historical record for dogmatic and/or methodological proof.
Panentheism comes from the Greek words for ‘all’, ‘in’, and ‘God’ — literally, “all-in-God-ism”. On this view, God is neither fully distinct from the universe (as in classical theism) nor identical with the universe (as in pantheism). Instead, the universe exists ‘in’ or ‘within’ God…While God is more than the universe, there is no clear ontological distinction between God and the universe (which includes us, of course)…This isn’t just a debate over abstract metaphysics; it has significant religious consequences. A radically different ontology inevitably leads to a radically different soteriology.[24]
24. James N. Anderson, “Why I Am Not a Panentheist,” Analogical Thoughts: The Virtual Home of James N. Anderson, last modified January 24th, 2012.
Anderson is noting the same problem Bavinck mentions above, that is, aberrant ontology skews soteriology when it blurs the lines between Creator and creature. And the solution to such errors can be found in the Reformed tradition’s emphasis on the covenantal and legal or forensic categories the Bible provides. What this means is that the ultimate problem to be solved between God (Creator) and man (creature) is ethical, not metaphysical/ontological. In other words, the problem with humanity was/is not that we were/are deprived of participating in God’s essence, but that we transgressed God’s law and broke covenant with him in Adam. Subsequently, the solution to this tragic situation is not for man to be divinized, but for the Divine Son to assume our human nature, perfectly fulfill God’s law, and through his atoning sacrifice inaugurate a new covenant.
Doesn’t 2 Peter 1:4 Support the Notion That Christians Participate in God’s Essence?
Now, I anticipate the careful reader may be wondering how the claims I made in the previous section square with 2 Peter 1:4. There the apostle teaches that God has granted saints his precious gospel promises “so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire” (emphasis mine). Does this passage not explicitly teach Christians participate in the divine nature? Would this not mean the ultimate telos or purpose of humanity is to participate in God’s essence? Does this mean Peter was a Christian Platonist? John Calvin provides a robust and relevant answer:
The word nature is not here essence but quality. The Manicheans formerly dreamt that we are a part of God, and that after having run the race of life we shall at length revert to our original. There are also at this day fanatics who imagine that we thus pass over into the nature of God, so that his swallows up our nature. Thus they explain what Paul says, that God will be all in all (1 Cor. xv. 28,) and in the same sense they take this passage. But such a delirium as this never entered the minds of the holy Apostles; they only intended to say that when divested of all the vices of the flesh, we shall be partakers of divine and blessed immortality and glory, so as to be as it were one with God as far as our capacities will allow.
This doctrine was not altogether unknown to Plato, who everywhere defines the chief good of man to be an entire conformity to God; but as he was involved in the mists of errors, he afterwards glided off to his own inventions. But we, disregarding empty speculations, ought to be satisfied with this one thing, —that the image of God in holiness and righteousness is restored to us for this end, that we may at length be partakers of eternal life and glory as far as it will be necessary for our complete felicity [happiness].[25]
25. John Calvin, Calvin’s Commentaries XXII, trans. and ed. John Owen (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1999), 371.
Yes, glorified humans will be one with God “as far as our capacities allow” in the New Jerusalem, which Calvin rightly identifies as being immortal and free from all sin. In the words of Bavinck, “The highest kind of life is the material freedom consisting of not being able to err, sin, or die. It consists in being elevated absolutely above all fear and dread, above all possibility of falling.”[26] This is the destiny of the saint. We must not define the chief good in accord with Platonic notions of participation, because this fails to disregard empty speculations and be satisfied with complete creaturely blessedness/happiness. I resonate strongly with Calvin’s line that “such a delirium as this never entered the minds of the holy Apostles.” Again, Christian Platonism misreads the dilemma between God and man by moving the point of gravity from Christ’s atoning work for sin to the humanization of God and divinization of man.[27] Attempting to “uphold” Scripture using such a metaphysic inevitably destabilizes Christians/the church because remnantal sophistry cannot and will not bear the weight of God’s righteousness and human unrighteousness. Instead, the Bible everywhere upholds the Creator-creature distinction[28] and proclaims that God the Son incarnate became a man to bear the weight of God’s righteousness and human unrighteousness himself (Rom. 3:21–26). The incarnate Logos “bore our sin in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness” (1 Pet. 2:24).
26. Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, 2:573.
27. For more on this, see Jan Veenhof in Nature and Grace in Herman Bavinck, trans. Albert M. Wolters (Sioux Center, IA: Dordt College Press, 2006), 11–12.
28. See, for example, Gen. 1:1; 2:1, 7, 21–22; 5:1–2; Deut. 32:6; Ps. 24:1–2; 100:3; 139:14; Prov. 8:22–31; 14:31; 17:5; 22:2; Eccl. 3:11; 11:5; 12:1–7; Isa. 66:1–2; Jer. 10:16; 51:19; John 1:3; Acts 4:24; 7:50; 14:15; 17:24.
The cross of Christ is the death knell to human wisdom and boasting (1 Cor. 1:26–31). This is why Paul says the preaching of the gospel is “foolishness” to the Greek sophist (1 Cor. 1:22–25). In fact, all their sophistic bluster was nothing more than a cover for immorality, which is highlighted by Owen, who writes, “[The Greeks] greatest philosophers . . . were for the most part scoundrels of recorded immorality, and so shamelessly concerned with self-publicity and self-glorification that they were commonly at once the bywords and the laughing stock of antiquity.”[29] It is crucial that we do not gloss over the rampant wickedness, vainglory, and distracting quarrelsomeness which accompanies metaphysical babbling (see Acts 17:16–21). Owen then offers a strong warning and sound wisdom on this point, “If ever my intention was to multiply and prolong theological disputes, and to divert the souls of men from the straight-forward simplicity of the gospel, [metaphysical studies] would be the best method that I could imagine, as it is the greatest arsenal of supply for wranglers.”[30] We must be diligent to keep the main thing (the gospel of Christ) the main thing, and I fear so-called Christian Platonism (at best) distracts us and/or (at worst) keeps us from the main thing.
29. Owen, Biblical Theology, 86.
30. Owen, Biblical Theology, 96.
Revelational Epistemology: The Authority, Clarity, and Sufficiency of Scripture
How ought Christians to think of philosophy and engage the likes of Plato then? Wellum rightly notes that the Reformers held to a “revelational epistemology” and thus practiced a theology “‘from above,’ that is, all theological formulations are constructed from Scripture.”[31] Now, as Wellum is quick to clarify, this does not mean we ought to promote solo scriptura (only the Bible), because sound theology is both “grounded and warranted by Scripture alone (Sola Scriptura) . . . [and] historically informed” by the Christian tradition and philosophy. Wellum explains, “The study of philosophy is important for theology. Although every philosophy assumes a specific worldview and must be evaluated as such, due to natural revelation and common grace, philosophers have developed, for example, useful systems of logic, critical distinctions in the analysis of causality, language, etc., that are useful for theology if they are placed within an overall Christian theology.” Again, Christian theology is “informed by tradition, but Scripture alone is our final authority.” Moreover, a central tenet at the heart of the Reformation was the clarity and sufficiency of Scripture. To say that someone “needs” Plato (or any other system of philosophy) to properly interpret the Bible undermines the authority and perspicuity of God’s word.
31. Stephen Wellum, Systematic Theology: From Canon to Concept (Brentwood, TN: B&H, 2024), 44.
When it comes to thinking through how Christians ought to engage with worldly philosophers in the doing of theology, I find it difficult to improve upon Bavinck’s teaching:
Initially the Reformation assumed a hostile posture toward scholasticism and philosophy. But it soon changed its mind. Because it was not, nor wanted to be, a sect, it could not do without theology. Even Luther and Melanchthon, therefore, already resumed the use of philosophy and recognized its usefulness. Calvin assumed this high position from the start, saw in philosophy an “outstanding gift of God,” and was followed in this assessment by all Reformed theologians. The question here is not whether theology should make use of a specific philosophical system. Christian theology has never taken over any philosophical system without criticism and given it the stamp of approval. Neither Plato’s nor Aristotle’s philosophy has been held to be the true one by any theologian. That theologians nevertheless preferred these two philosophical systems was due to the fact that these systems best lent themselves to the development and defense of the truth. Present also was the idea that the Greeks and Romans had been accorded a special calling and gift for the life of culture. Still to this day, in fact, our whole civilization is built upon that of Greece and Rome. And Christianity has not destroyed but Christianized and thus consecrated those cultures. Still, theology is not in need of a specific philosophy. It is not per se hostile to any philosophical system and does not, a priori and without criticism, give priority to the philosophy of Plato or of Kant, or vice versa. But it brings along its own criteria, tests all philosophy by them, and takes over what it deems true and useful. What it needs is philosophy in general. In other words, it arrives at scientific theology only by thinking. The only internal principle of knowledge, therefore, is not faith as such, but believing thought, Christian rationality. Faith is self-conscious and sure. It rests in revelation. It includes cognition, but that cognition is completely practical in nature, a knowing (γινώσκειν [ginōskein]) in the sense of Holy Scripture.[32]
32. Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, 1:608–9.
In agreement with this analysis, I want to be clear that Christians are indeed free to benefit from and even plunder Plato and/or any other system for that matter. As David Talcott rightly highlights, “Plato is pretty good, actually.” And as he unpacks in his essay for this month’s theme, “[Plato] can teach us valuable truths. But we need a wiser man with a better gospel—and a physical, resurrected body—to bring us to the one true God.” Indeed, the world is ours because we are Christ’s! (1 Cor. 3:18-23). Moreover, when unbelievers grasp things that accord with God’s word and world these are reminders of his common/preserving grace in this fallen world. As mentioned earlier, Paul uses these common notions as touchpoints to preach Christ. But as Wellum rightly points out, Paul is by no means syncretizing his apologetics with the epicureans and stoics, rather he proclaims their alleged “unknown God” is in fact known by all and that they must repent and believe in the risen Christ who will return as their judge (Acts 17:22–34). Just as with Paul, many will scoff at the preaching of the gospel, but we dare not seek to demonstrate our relevancy and/or sophistication with such folks by tuning our message to their itching ears. We must follow Paul’s model, and take great care to not smuggle empty deceit from worldly sophistry into Christian theology as we engage with pagan thought. Christian Platonism is a trojan horse for such syncretism, and therefore ought to be rejected.
Conclusion
I sadly find Boersma’s hermeneutical method to be an imposition of platonism over Scripture. And worse yet, I think he is representative of this particular trend, meaning all the label of Christian Platonism can and will do is distract Christians from prioritizing the authoritative, clear, and sufficient revelation God has graciously and miraculously given to us in Christ and Scripture. Making the remnantal sophistry of pagan philosophy necessary for upholding the teaching of Scripture diverts Christians from the pure simplicity of the gospel of Christ, which meets our deepest need of salvation from sin and God’s righteous wrath. This message is foolishness to the philosophers of this age, but to those who are called the gospel is the power of God and wisdom of God (1 Cor. 1:18–25).
In closing, let me briefly reiterate some significant takeaways from the writing of Calvin, Owen, Bavinck, Leithart, Strange, and Wellum in response to Christian Platonism from this essay:
- Greek philosophy (and thus Plato/Platonism) represents the progressive devolution and downgrade in fallen man’s thinking from inborn theology/philosophy. It does not represent man’s renaissance.
- If it is foolish and even dishonoring to Christ to brand oneself under the label of your favorite apostle and/or prophet (1 Cor. 1:13–17), how much more misguided is it to brand oneself under the name of your favorite pagan philosopher?
- We by no means need Plato’s system to interpret Scripture. At best, Plato is a poor man’s Moses. Platonism mixes and adulterates natural revelation due to the effects of sin on human thinking. Philosophy is thus fatally handicapped and reduced to remnantal sophistry as a result of the suppression of truth in unrighteousness (Rom. 1:18–32).
- The Bible reveals its own metaphysics (fundamentally the Creator-creature distinction), which is then apprehended by a confident and sure faith in God’s authoritative revelation (Gen. 1:1; Heb. 11:3). The Christian faith (and thus theology) is not in any way dependent on the logic and/or metaphysics of unbelieving philosophers for knowability or clarity.
- The ultimate problem to be overcome in Scripture is not human nature (metaphysical), but human sin(fulness) before a holy and righteous God (covenantal/ethical). Thus, God’s purpose for saints is not to participate in his essence–which amounts to a blasphemous “melting union” or “fusion” of the Creator-creature distinction–but to be one with him as far as our capacities allow in a qualitative sense. This means we will attain complete creaturely blessedness/happiness upon glorification when we are fully conformed to Christ’s image in holiness and righteousness (Rom. 8:29; Eph. 4:24; Col. 3:10; 1 John 3:3).
- The Bible is authoritative, clear, and sufficient for life and godliness. Christians must take care to not be taken captive by philosophy and empty deceit. Our faith does not need the wisdom of men, but the power of God, which is demonstrated in the preaching of Christ crucified to remove God’s righteous wrath and redeem us from the curse of sin (Col. 2:8; 1 Cor. 2:1–5; Rom. 3:21–26; 2 Cor. 5:21).
