In other words, and (finally) more simply, the transcendental method, i.e., the impossibility of the contrary, holds that Christianity is true and anything opposing it is false and, in and of itself, self-destructive. This should be obvious to any Christian. Christianity is true. We believe that it is true, but it is true whether we believe it or not. This means also that Christianity is true, even for those who are not Christians.

A question recently came to me from a reader concerning what Cornelius Van Til called the transcendental method of apologetics. The question was whether or not this method could be explained in “simple terms.” This question obviously comes from an educated and informed reader. Whether or not it is a question that other readers might have will likely remain a mystery. However, since I committed to answering questions from readers, I am constrained to respond.

It may surprise many that this aspect of Van Til’s apologetic is among the easiest and least technical to explain (but not, necessarily, to apply). Van Til was quite clear on what he meant by the term “transcendental.” In order to see the validity of the term and concept, however, a little context might be helpful. Why keep something simple when it can be made complex?

As we have discussed in previous articles, one of the most significant advances during the time of the Reformation was the affirmation of the central and foundational status of Scripture. The problem was not that the medieval church had not previously held Scripture in high regard. It was, rather, that the soteriological implications of what we can know and how we know had not been given their due theological weight.

In other words, prior to the Reformation (generally speaking), it was thought that man’s reason was not so bad after all; what was needed for salvation was a change of heart, not so much of mind. So, there was thought to be general agreement on what all men could know, and what could be known was thought to be the same for anyone, Christian or not.

In contrast to this, in Reformed thinking, the depravity of the mind, including unregenerate reason, was affirmed. There could not be, therefore, a religiously neutral aspect of our human constitution that was common to both believer and unbeliever.

Our thinking, as well as our willing and our doing, were all in opposition to God (cf. Rom. 8:5-7). Reformed Christians sought to make clear that the “light of natural reason” could not be the same for all people, regardless of their spiritual status. Where, then, does a Christian stand in order properly to know, and to think about, the world, himself, etc.? If our reason, in Adam, is depraved, it is not able to provide the solid foundation that is needed for knowledge of ourselves and of everything around us.

So, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the status of Scripture was given its proper place; it was affirmed as principial. This meant, in part, that Scripture’s self-attestation was part and parcel of a Reformed doctrine of Scripture. As self-attesting and principial, Scripture’s status – its authority and attributes – were not, in the first place, something that could or should be logically demonstrated. That which is foundational, as Scripture was affirmed to be, is itself known immediately and indemonstrably. In other words, we do not come to Scripture’s authority as something that is given (mediately) at the end of a syllogism. It carries its authority within itself, and testifies, in and of itself, to that authority.

This emphasis on Scripture’s status as principial impacted the entirety of theology, and of the church. One of those impacts included the way in which the so-called “theistic proofs” were understood and applied. Before the Reformation, because the totality of sin’s effects on man were, at least, underestimated, it was thought that the best way to prove God’s existence was by beginning with commonly held rational or evidential principles. The burden of Christianity, it was thought in this scenario, was that it had to show itself to be reasonable or sufficiently evidential if it were going to be deemed fit or rational to believe.

A couple of centuries after the Reformation, and because of the influence of the Enlightenment, the reasonableness of Christianity was thought to be, not simply an aspect, but a requirement, if someone was going to pass the (assumed) bar of rationality or evidential sufficiency in believing the Christian faith. That which could not be rationally or evidentially proven, so it was thought, could not be rationally held. It was the burden of the Christian, so we were told, to show his beliefs to be rational or evidentially sound. This Enlightenment emphasis has remained, in some quarters, to the present day. Many responses, therefore, in light of this obligation of reasonableness, or of evidential sufficiency, have been attempts to demonstrate that our belief in Scripture’s authority, or in the existence of God, meets the demands of rationality or evidential sufficiency (even though such demands have never been universally agreed upon, but that’s a topic for another time).

When affirming the principial status of Scripture, however, Reformed Christians were also affirming that something had to be the immediate and indemonstrable ground, the absolute foundation, upon which everything else could be known or understood (this notion of a principial ground, by the way, was not invented by the Reformers; it goes back at least to Aristotle).

Read More