“Presuppositionalism”: a reply to an implicit criticism

In “Christ on the Possibility of Social Order without Christ (Matt. 12:24-6)”, an anonymous blogger led into his polemic against “political presuppositionalism” with a swipe at unnamed advocates of generic “presuppositionalism.”

Presuppositionalism, at least in some of its articulations, is the Christian epistemological and apologetical philosophy according to which knowledge is only possible on the condition of a self-conscious presupposition of the existence of God and the truth of his revealed word. One of the problems with presuppositionalism, at least insofar as it represents a distinct theory, is that it confuses the metaphysical conditions for the possibility of knowledge with the epistemological conditions for the possibility of knowledge. God’s existence and role as first cause may be metaphysically necessary for there to be knowledge, but it doesn’t follow from this that God has therefore made it the case that the presupposition of these truths is necessary to have knowledge. (The Natural Law Libertarian, June 19, 2023)

No, presupposing the worldview is necessary, not to have truth, but in order to give an account of how one has it. Accounting for knowledge is an epistemological task.

Natural Law Libertarian (NLL) makes his charge against on the way to his main point (with which I do not necessarily disagree): while it is metaphysically impossible for there to be social order without Christ—after all, all things cohere (συνέστηκεν, synestēken) in Him (Col 1:17), no exceptions made for social orders—there can be social order without its members professing Christ as Lord. How sustainable any social order is this side of God’s prophesied Kingdom, including the Christian confessional states of history, is another matter. In my opinion, not very! Three years ago on this blog I argued for this gloomy view against the theonomists whom I believe NLL has in mind.

It may not follow from man’s metaphysical situation that he must presuppose the worldview expressed on Scripture’s pages, that is, the Christian worldview. As I argue, however, in Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God’s Thoughts after Him, epistemology and metaphysics (and let’s not forget ethics) are inquiries that are (or ought to be) coordinated—implicitly or explicitly, adequately or inadequately—in a worldview. I further argue that whoever subscribes to (or adopts by a “social osmosis”) any substitute for his “birthright” worldview (the Christian worldview) must pay a price in unintelligibility and incoherence.

Every non-Christian worldview fails to coordinate those disparate enterprises. Yes, it’s an epistemological failure, but it’s organically related to that worldview’s metaphysical and ethical inadequacies, grounded as they are in the presumption of autonomy (about which Scripture has much to say).

Perhaps it’s a metaphilosophical problem only implied in Scripture, and Scripture’s dramatis personae do not cut Socratic or Aristotelian figures: they no more fret about epistemology than about eating or sleeping. Did they thereby evade their epistemic duties?

If a man impregnates a woman, he thereby knows (יָדַ֖ע, yada) her (Genesis 4:1); otherwise, he does not (οὐ γινώσκω, ou ginōsko) know her that way (Luke 1:34).

If the sky or clouds have a certain look, you know (γινώσκετε, ginōskete) how to discern (διακρίνειν, diakrinein) what weather’s in the offing (Matthew 16:2-3; Luke 12:54-56): no Humean skepticism.

If you’ve read the prophets, you’ve heard God (Matthew 22:31): no hermeneutical doubt.

If you hung out with Jesus, you knew (ἔγνωκάς, egnōkas), and therefore saw (ἑώρακεν, heōraken), the Father (John 14:9) and are morally responsible for that perception. Such are baby steps toward thinking God’s thoughts after Him.

If this be “presuppositionalism,” make the most of it. But it has nothing to do with “confusing” the metaphysical and epistemological conditions of human knowing. It has to do with discerning the transcendental conditions of both (and ethics) a patently epistemological enterprise. How far those who labor in the exegetical vineyards of Jerusalem can go without having to drink from the analytical wells of Athens is, for me, an open question.