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God and Human Knowledge--Stephen Roberts

An Essay Prepared for Josophat Mwale Theological Institute, Based on a Lecture Given on 20-06-07


Why should we talk about human knowledge in relation to theology? Is not human knowledge more of a philosophical concept? Yes it is, and that is why we must speak of it. In a certain sense, philosophy precedes theology. First of all, when we speak of God, we do not speak as mindless beings who merely create our own reality. We speak as those who are confident in their ability to make a claim about truth. Second, we must know why we believe what we believe. Thus, we are told in 1 Peter 3:15 “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” If we don’t establish why we believe something, no one will really care what it is that we believe.
These initial comments may still seem a bit abstract, so we shall talk about it on a more practical level. Let us examine these three statements:

I think that Jesus Christ is Lord.
I feel that Jesus Christ is Lord.
Jesus Christ is Lord.

Which of these three statements do you find to be the most compelling? In other words, if you were a non-Christian and somebody came to you to share the Gospel, which one of these statements would you find most effective? We would all agree that the final statement is the best, for it demonstrates a certainty in the heart of the person who shares such a statement. It isn’t presented as a matter of opinion, but of truth.
When I was in Malawi last summer, I had the opportunity to share the Gospel with some families in the small village of Dzuwa, north of Lilongwe. At one home, my friend asked a family if they any hope of heaven after death, and the wife immediately responded, “No, because I am a sinner.” By God’s grace, this family all came to a saving faith in Jesus Christ that day. Notice that this woman did not say “I think” or “I feel” with regard to her sin, but “I am a sinner.” It was much easier for us to share a certain hope to one who had a certain conviction of sin. Do you see why it is important to know why you believe what you believe? If you don’t know why—your faith has no foundation or claim to truth.
If the importance of this discussion as not been made clear yet, let me put it in the strongest terms: If you present the Gospel as something that you think to be logical, or feel to meaningful, you may win converts—but not to Christianity. You are only calling them to believe something as logical or meaningful, not something that is true. The problem today is that many people share the hope that they have, but not the reason for that hope as 1 Peter 3:15 calls us to do. What is the reason for our hope, and how are we able to share that reason?
Let us look first at two terms that might seem a bit intimidating, but will quickly become understandable: archetypal and ectypal knowledge. Does that first word bear a resemblance to any words you know? How about the term architect? An architect is one who draws plans for how something is to be created. For every building that you see, you know that there first was a set of blueprints that outlined how the building was supposed to be built. With that in mind, when you think of an archetype, you should think of that original plan—the perfect model that is later copied. An ectype, on the other hand, is the copy of that plan. Likewise, when you speak of archetypal knowledge, you are speaking of the knowledge of the architect of this world: God. When you speak of ectypal knowledge, you are speaking of the knowledge of those created in image: man.
This understanding of knowledge leaves us with several problems that must be resolved. First, the ectypal knowledge given to man in Creation has become corrupted by sin. As a result, the only we can have as human beings is that which condemns us and leaves us without excuse (Rom. 1). Second, if we are left only with this corrupted knowledge, is it possible for us to know anything as true?
These questions have plagued man throughout history, and have evoked various responses from different philosophers. Perhaps the most important philosopher, and the one we shall discuss briefly here, is Plato. Plato believed there to be a ladder extending from the perfect form (God) and the copies (man). As the unity and spirit of this perfect form deteriorates into diversity and matter, it loses its beauty and purity. As you can see, Plato viewed a distinction between the archetype (God) and ectype (man), but he did not view the distinction as absolute. By that I mean that Plato did not believe God and man to be fundamentally different in essence, but only different by degree. The difference between God and man was qualitative, not quantitative.
As Christians, we thoroughly disagree with Plato’s model. Although God created us in His image, we can never be like God. This desire to be like God actually led to the first sin by our parents in the Garden of Eden. It was God who created man out of the dust; It was Satan who told created man that he could be like God. Instead, Christians maintain that there is an absolute distinction between the Creator and the creature. There is no ladder, but only an inseparable gulf.
From the time of Plato until now, most philosophers have used his ladder as the fundamental model for human knowledge. On the one hand, you had those who believed they could climb Plato’s ladder. For example, “realists” believed that human beings could climb Plato’s ladder and know reality absolutely. In later days, two types of realism emerged: rationalism and mysticism. Rationalists believed that the human intellect could conquer all knowledge and know things as God knows them. Mystics believed that through meditation, the human mind could ascend to God and see the truths that normally lay hidden. You are likely familiar with this latter group, as many here who engage in tribal witchcraft believe that they can gain access to the things of God through their substances and rituals.
On the other hand, you had those who believed in Plato’s ladder, but didn’t think it was possible to climb it. Many of these were called “nominalists”, and they believed that it was not possible to know reality beyond the names we give to things. In contrast to the realists, who believed that a human could know exactly what a “tree” is and everything about that tree, the nominalists believed that “tree” is only a name invented by man, and that there is nothing we can know of the reality of a tree. In other words, those who tried to climb Plato’s ladder through human history believed that man could have the same knowledge as God, while those who thought the ladder to be impossible to climb consequently thought that human beings could have no true knowledge.
This type of dilemma still confronts us all over the world in our day. In recent centuries, “modernism” has replaced realism as an attempt to know absolute truth. Modernists believe that truths can be proven without a doubt—for example, 1+1=2. Likewise, “postmodernism” has replaced nominalism as an attempt to destroy any possibility of knowing absolute truth. According to the postmodernist, all things we believe to be reality are simply matters of opinion. You may say the sky is blue, and I may say it is white, and neither of us is able to tell the other that he is wrong.
So where does Christian faith fit amongst these two opposing lines of thought? The modernist will ridicule your faith because he doesn’t believe that your faith can be proven. Of course, his standard for proof is in many ways a matter of opinion as well. The postmodernist will be largely apathetic about your faith. To him, your faith is simply a matter of opinion, and everybody has opinions, and all opinions are equally good, so why pay special attention to yours? In other words, who cares?
Both the modernist and postmodernist follow the thinking of a famous philosopher, Immanuel Kant, when they think about faith. In order to protect faith from the scrutiny of other philosophers, Kant created a special island of insanity where faith could live on its own terms without being subjected to the tests and rigors of science. As a result, the modernists considered their case closed because faith could not be proven, and later, postmodernists simply ignored the island of faith while creating their own islands of opinion.
We of course don’t subscribe to this fundamental distinction between faith and knowledge. Christian belief isn’t a mere matter of opinion, but a knowledge of something to be fact. Thus, when the inspired writers of God’s Word and of the historic creeds of the faith wrote “I believe” or “we believe”, they were not stating an opinion but an assertion of something they knew to be true.
So what exactly can Christians claim to be true? Let us use the Trinity as our example of a proper understanding of Christian knowledge. Are we able to completely explain the Trinity? Not at all! We do not have archetypal knowledge—we cannot explain what God is, or know His thoughts. As Romans 11:34 declares: “Who has known the mind of the Lord?”
In the same way, are we left without any knowledge of the Trinity whatsoever? Again—not at all. We are left merely left with ectypal knowledge; we are still able to make certain statements about the Trinity. Deuteronomy 29:29 tells us that the secret things belong to the Lord, but the revealed things belong to man. So we are left with these “revealed things” to give us knowledge, but what are these things exactly?
Let us give the answer through what Christians would describe as the Doctrine of Analogy. When we talk about an analogy, we are talking about something that is compared to something else in order to communicate a truth. When I tell you that a boy is like a man, I am telling you that a little boy bears some resemblance to a grown man, but is not exactly like that grown man. That should make perfect sense to all of us who have been both little boys at one time and grown men now.
In the same way, the Lord provides analogies to us in Scripture so that we may understand certain things as truth. When God inspired David in Psalm 23 to write “the Lord is my shepherd,” He was giving us an analogy so that we may understand something about Him. David was not saying that God walks around heaven in bare feet with a cane, but that God is like the shepherds we see in the way He cares for us. We are not able to understand how exactly God cares for us, so He tells us that it is like the shepherd we see in the fields (but certainly infinitely better!). In the same way, when the first epistle of John says that “God is love,” we understand that God in some way demonstrates love like we do, but does so perfectly whereas our love is flawed.
In conclusion, Christians can know truth, but not absolutely. Remember that “absolute truth” is not a Christian concept, but a modernist concept. We can never know things as God knows them, because we are not God. We must avoid that devilish temptation to claim that knowledge. At the same time, we are not left with the hopeless despair of those who can know nothing. In the whole of the Holy Bible, God speaks to man analogously so that we can understand something about God, ourselves, and grace. Calvin calls God’s Word “baby talk,” because God must reduce the majesty of His language in order that sinful minds may comprehend His Word. He must speak to us as a father speaks to his baby. Let us praise God for revealing Himself to us in His Word, so that we might know things with certainty—most importantly, the things that bring about our salvation from sin and death.



Helpful Resources:
Systematic Theology by Louis Berkhof
Reformed Dogmatics V.1: Prolegomena by Herman Bavinck
Christianity and Eschatology by Michael Horton
Lord and Servant by Michael Horton
The Gospel in a Pluralist Society by Leslie Newbigin
The Sovereign God by James Montgomery Boice
Institutes of Christian Religion by John Calvin
Westminster Confession of Faith; Heidelberg Catechism