“Without faith it is impossible to please God” the writer of Hebrews tells us. So, there should not be any real difficulty with explaining what faith is. Faith, as a word, occurs hundreds of times in the Scripture. Gordon Clark, however, dispels any notion in his book, Faith and Saving Faith, that faith is easy to define. But define it we must, ‘or else we do not know what we are talking about’ (95). In other words, we cannot talk about something we have, but do not understand. This is not to say that we have an immediate, full understanding of faith, but that at whatever point we receive it, it will be in the form of a proposition.
Clark begins with a few secular writers who have ventured into the area of pinpointing a definition of faith, or belief. Blanshard identifies belief with intellection. Intelligence is supposed, and precedes sensation. Indeed, cognition is always present with any sense-data. There is no knowledge which derives itself ‘minus all intellectual interpretation’ (6). With this talk about sensation and intellection in matters related to a definition of biblical faith, one must conclude that it ‘presupposes a view of human nature’ (7). How do we think as human beings?
There are, then, matters that are connected to thought that must be distinguished first. Linguistically, words, or sentences, can be seen as a reproduction of thoughts on a page. Or, at least these words can cause a thought to come into memory. This concern raises issues between believing in, and believing that x is p. Also, a separation of knowledge by acquaintance and knowledge by description has been used to help further the discussion of belief. If one reads, “Jesus said unto Pilate,” what can this be classified as? If one believes this, is it knowledge by acquaintance? No one alive today knows Pilate. He is dead. How can one be acquainted with a dead person? All that we can know about Pilate must suffice. Knowing about something is regulated below believing in something. Thus, it is stated, mere knowledge of facts cannot be a real basis for faith. It is against this view which Clark, with penetrating logic, begins his monograph.
There is no concrete difference between knowledge-in and knowledge-that. To have knowledge in the person of Jesus Christ is to have knowledge that he was, for example, a Jew. The object of knowledge, whether it be Pilate, or Jesus – two historical characters – are ‘psychologically identical’ (78). The difference of belief ‘lies in the object’ (78) and not in the nature of the belief itself as it operates in the mind. ‘Changing the object of belief does not indicate any theoretical difference between factual and evaluative beliefs’ (15). To be sure, Clark does not deny emotive elements, which can attach themselves to volitional beliefs, but denies that these “feelings” are part of the knowledge content itself. One may emote when singing “Amazing Grace,” but the meaning of grace cannot be sought in the accompaniment of the emotional. Rather, the meaning of grace must be sought in the proposition.
The distinction above has been used in more pious language to create a wedge between knowing Jesus and knowing about Jesus; the head and the heart; reality against a proposition. Faith is somehow “deeper” than just hollow terms [pejorative]. What this “deeper” faculty is in the nature of faith is never explained. Somehow, though, it is more than a proposition about Jesus. This distinction paves the way for an implicit faith. Here, one can know Jesus without actually knowing much about him as it relates to historical facts. Theology, then, with its emphasis on formalities, becomes deregulated. Clark’s thesis throughout the entire book is that ‘no one can believe what he does not know or understand’ (21). Thus, ‘faith is strictly limited to knowledge’ (21).
Often, this view is caricaturized as saying that one need only believe this or that and salvation is granted, as if belief were mere assent. However, this is false. ‘One can understand…. the philosophy of Spinoza; but this does not mean…. [that one].. ..assents to it’ (51). Clark does not divide the nature of belief into different faculties on the basis that the Scriptures do not do so, and that it leads one reducibly into confusion. Whatever it may be that produces a “warmth” in believing that Jesus died for my sins, it cannot be said that this feeling is a deeper realm in the human being, or a necessary ingredient (65).
This was noted above. So also, whatever may be said about one having ‘mere belief’ cannot be separated from believing something as an act of the will itself. The Bible makes no distinction between the heart and the head, rather, between the heart and the lips (66). Therefore, when a man truly believes something, he is not only operating in a mental state, but a volitional one as well (56). ‘Belief is the act of assenting to something understood. But understanding alone [i.e., in Spinoza] is not belief in what it understood’ (51). Believing and acting are, thus, concurrent.
Many of the great Reformed theologians have failed to grasp this point. Calvin, even though he certainly emphasized knowledge (36) appears to falter on some points. He clearly wrote as one expressing that assent is a ‘pious act’ which needs ‘no addition of pious affection’ (39). Thomas Manton falls into the error that faith is not only assensus axiomati (49), but rather, belief-in is more important than belief-that. John Owen spoke of two types of assent, though he never explains their difference (53). Charles Hodge and B.B. Warfield equally refer to different kinds of faith, rather than simply viewing faith as volitional assent.
In conclusion, Clark’s points can be summed up as: 1) One cannot believe in something that one does not understand. 2) There is no difference between assenting to something in the heart, and assenting to something in the head. They are both concurrent. 3) Equally concurrent is the will as it relates to understanding which are both actions of the heart (79). 4) Saving faith is assent to understood propositions. God ‘justifies sinners by means of many combinations of propositions believed’ (110). Thus, the image of God, which is man himself, is substantiated in intellectual ability, his mental volition, to assent to those things found in the Scripture. The certainty of those propositions rests not on demonstration, nor in any pious affection as a further sign, but rather, quoting Thomas Aquinas (though certainly not endorsing the empiricism of him), “Faith is an act of the intellect, under the command or direction of the will’ (28). Its authority and certainty is from God Himself, and, thus, needs no other proof.




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