The Self-Convicted Moralists

 

  The Consequences of Judging Others 

Jesus is clear that his followers should not engage in condemning judgment toward others. And throughout his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus talks about how he clearly sees our inner motivations—the hidden realities that shape our lives—in a way that no else can. He takes into account our grief, our disappointment, our desire to be noticed, our worry about the future, and our sincere desire to please God.

 So when we look down on another person, we act as though we can see their inner realities just as clearly. We end up playing God. And we know from the beginning of the whole story, back in Gen. 1-3, that playing God never works well. Remember how humans bring corruption and death upon themselves precisely because they try to determine right and wrong apart from God, according to what is good or bad in their own eyes. In Genesis, and in Jesus’ teaching, we can hear God saying,

“As finite beings, you do not have what it takes to make such complex judgments on your own. I have built you with everything it takes to love one another deeply, so keep doing that while you leave the judging part to me.”

When man became a sinner, he made of himself instead of God the ultimate or final reference point

Cornelius Van Til and William Edgar, Christian Apologetics, 2nd ed. (The Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing Company: Phillipsburg, NJ, 2003), 45.

 Revelation through Scripture was useful for the rationalist, but it was not to be accepted if it went contrary to reason (Daniel G. Reid et al., Dictionary of Christianity in America (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1990).)

 Anytime a person believes he can decide for himself what is right and wrong, he becomes god. He has usurped the divine prerogative.

(Victor P. Hamilton, “Genesis,” in Evangelical Commentary on the Bible, vol. 3, Baker Reference Library (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1995), 14.)

Any apologetic method that does not recognize the hostility of the fallen mind is not only gravely mistaken but is resisting the teaching of the very Scriptures which apologetics should be defending! Christians must recognize the reality of non-neutrality in the actual world. ("He must be either Savior or Judge" Believer’s Bible Commentary) 

Contrary to the grievously impoverished theology in much of modern evangelicalism, the Scriptures teach what is known as the “noetic” effect of sin. “Noetic” is derived from the Greek word nous, which means “mind” (see: Luke 24:45; Rom. 7:23; Phil. 4:7).

 This is one aspect of the doctrine of “total depravity,” which declares that the fall reaches deep down into a man’s very being, even to his mind, his reasoning processes. “The noetic effect of sin (the depravity of man’s intellect) does not imply, for Van Til, that the unbeliever cannot have a keen intellect.

 He may be very smart indeed, and thus all the more dangerous to himself and others.

 Depravity gives a distorted and destructive orientation to the sinner’s mental functions.” This is evident in Paul’s writings quoted above. (Gary DeMar, ed., Pushing the Antithesis: The Apologetic Methodology of Greg L. Bahnsen (Powder Springs, GA: American Vision, 2007), 28.)

Theistic arguments are at best like the law that convicts but cannot save. They cannot lead anyone to salvation apart from the gospel of Christ (Rom. 10:13–17). The Canons of Dort link the “light of nature” with “the law,” and then state,

What therefore neither the light of nature, nor the law could do, that God performs by the operation of the Holy Spirit through the Word or ministry of reconciliation, which is the glad tidings concerning the Messiah

 by means whereof it hath pleased God to save such as believe, as well under the Old, as under the New Testament.”  (Joel R. Beeke and Paul M. Smalley, Reformed Systematic Theology: Revelation and God, vol. 1 (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2019), 241.)

It might have done better to speak of mankind as under destiny and illusion.

 Even before sin, God threatened Adam with death and so with a law. In sin, God gives the law in the first place to curb sin by threat of punishment. In this, while restraining sinners outwardly, it ultimately failed to make people righteous inwardly.

But second, the chief office of the law is to reveal original sin and the evil that comes from it.

Only the gospel may then free sinners from sin, death, and devil. The gospel is the story of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who became flesh and was crucified for our trespass, raised for our justification (Rom. 4:25), and established as Lord of a new realm whenever this is preached for the ungodly.

 The proper function of the gospel is to forgive sins in the form of a promise that functions differently than a command.

 The promise depends upon God’s faithfulness and the power of God’s Word to accomplish what it says and make sinners into believers, persons who trust in God.

Steven D. Paulson, “Law and Gospel,” in Dictionary of Luther and the Lutheran Traditions, ed. Timothy J. Wengert (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic: A Division of Baker Publishing Group, 2017), 415. 

When we take our fate in our own hands, even in the name of a particular ethics or religion, God is no longer recognized as Creator; we have to put greater trust in ourselves than is possible and become less than we are meant to be.

 Even in the ethical field we constantly show ourselves to be the captives of our own arrogance, passions, caprice, and stupidity. (Ernst Käsemann, Commentary on Romans, ed. and trans. Geoffrey W. Bromiley, First edition (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1994), 204.)

Like Jesus’ generation, which he compared to children who did not know either how to mourn or dance properly, we—even in the church—seem to regard the verdict of the law as too severe and the verdict of the gospel as too good to be true. Our age does not seem to know either the grandeur of creation or the tragedy of the fall. Matthew 11:16–17

Michael S. Horton, “A Shattered Vase: The Tragedy of Sin in Calvin’s Thought,” in A Theological Guide to Calvin’s Institutes: Essays and Analysis, ed. David W. Hall and Peter A. Lillback, The Calvin 500 Series (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2015), 153.

To be sure, we should not try to argue people into the kingdom of God, much less build a theological system on a rationalistic foundation. We know from the Bible that belief in the existence of God is ultimately an article of faith (Heb. 11:6). For the Christian, arguments for God’s existence are better thought of as witnesses than as proofs. Nevertheless, there is a place for showing that the existence of God is rational and makes better sense of the world than does atheistic unbelief.

 Philosophy and human reason must not be the starting point for faith, but they can be used to defend, clarify, and confirm the faith.

Kevin DeYoung, Daily Doctrine: A One-Year Guide to Systematic Theology (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2024), 36.

Finding true certitude is found not in a mathematically precise axiom or in the speculation of metaphysics, but in the grace initiated relationship with the God made known in the face of Jesus Christ revealed in the Scriptures.

 It was upon this unshakable ground that another French philosopher, Blaise Pascal, would write the following prayer, found after his death enclosed in the hem of his jacket with the date, Nov. 23, 1654:

“Fire—God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob, not of philosophers and scholars. Certainty, certainty, heartfelt joy, peace. God of Jesus Christ. God of Jesus Christ. My God and your God.… Blaise Pascal” 

This inner assurance is described by à Brakel as the ultimate purpose of innate knowledge sparked by God’s inward work of the revealed Word and the Holy Spirit. 

“The Christian religion, then, teaches men these two truths; that there is a God whom men can know, and that there is a corruption in their nature which renders them unworthy of Him.

 It is equally important to men to know both these points; and it is equally dangerous for man to know God without knowing his own wretchedness, and to know his own wretchedness without knowing the Redeemer who can free him from it.

 The knowledge of only one of these points gives rise either to the pride of philosophers, who have known God, and not their own wretchedness, or to the despair of atheists, who know their own wretchedness, but not the Redeemer.”(Pascal, Pensées, 109.) 

Todd D. Baucum, “Innate Knowledge in the Thought of Wilhelmus À Brakel,” Puritan Reformed Journal 6, no. 2 (2014): 81–87.

Therefore, you have no excuse, you foolish person, every one of you who passes judgment; for in that matter in which you judge someone else, you condemn yourself; for you who judge practice the same things. Rom. 2:1 NASB,2020 cf.(2 Sam. 12:5–7; Matt. 7:1; Luke 6:37; Rom. 14:22) Do not judge, so that you will not be judged Mt. 7:1; Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven, Lk. 6:37.

In a startling rhetorical move, Paul singles out an individual who appears to agree with his own analysis of the depravity of the Gentiles, and accuses him of the very vices that he condemns:

 ‘You have no defense, then, you who sit in judgment, whoever you may be—for when you judge another you pass judgment on yourself, since you the judge are guilty of the same things’ Rom. 2:1. 

The judge is not explicitly addressed as a Jew (Rom. 2:17), but there are good grounds for concluding that Paul has a fellow Jew in mind from the beginning of the chapter. If so, however, Paul addresses him anonymously—as one who believes himself to have escaped the nexus of human sin and guilt and to have found a secure place from which to observe, criticize, and deplore.

 What is opposed here is the idea that certain people stand outside and apart from the scene described in the previous chapter, occupying some place of safety untouched by idolatry, sexual sin, and violence. For the critic, the place of safety is founded and guaranteed by ‘the wealth of [God’s] kindness and forbearance and patience’ (Rom. 2:4), which ensures immunity from the divine wrath that is coming upon the entire world. Paul’s address aims to show that this place of safety is a house built upon sand. 

While Paul can still speak of the ‘advantage’ of the Jewish people (Rom. 3:1), he does not believe that the difference between Jew and Gentile is the difference between the righteous and the unrighteous. There is, he claims, no place at which one might set oneself up as judge and critic, for one is already deeply implicated in precisely the vices one is most eager to denounce in others.

Francis Watson, Paul and the Hermeneutics of Faith, Second Edition, The Cornerstones Series (London; New York; New Delhi; Sydney; Oxford: Bloomsbury T&T Clark: An Imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 2016), 375–377.

Don’t you see how wonderfully kind, tolerant, and patient God is with you? Does this mean nothing to you? Can’t you see that his kindness is intended to turn you from your sin? Rom. 2:4 NLT 

 suggests that the person Paul is critiquing shows contempt for God by not emulating God’s behavior. If even God is patient, tolerant, and kind in order to lead fallen persons to repentance, how can the interlocutor not also be that way?

 (note interlocutor — A partner in dialogue or, in terms of ancient rhetoric, a hypothetical opponent whose objections are challenged by a writer or speaker.)Douglas Mangum, The Lexham Glossary of Theology (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2014)

Men are chained, even by God’s judgment upon them, to the mass of wickedness just described so graphically. It is understood that the Christians are set free by grace as will be told in due time.

 But here is the moralist—his ilk is numerous—who will fully agree with all that Paul says about this general wickedness, who will even sit in judgment on another man (Rom. 2:1) or, being a Jew, will lay down the law to other men (Rom. 2:17 and 21, etc.) under the delusion that this moralism and its serious practice, instanced in the long line of reformers or Weltverbesserer, exempts them from an indictment such as this one made by Paul. The apostle turns the tables on them: by their very moralism they seal their own conviction.

Weltverbesserer-do-gooders, One who advocates a certain course of action, often of political or social concern, and often with the naive conviction of their own moral superiority.

 Prohibition in the United States was an unsuccessful attempt by do-gooders to save people from the dangers of alcohol, whether they wanted to be saved or not.

To think that Rom.2:5–12 are hypothetical and were written only as an argument: if there were no gospel; if the fulfillment of the law (the natural law on the part of Gentiles, the revealed on the part of Jews) were possible: then God would judge as is here stated—is to misunderstand this section. No sinner, especially no moralist, can be reached by hypothetical dangers. This is not an empty roll of thunder but the actual lightning stroke that kills all moralism root and branch; no man can endure it and live.

The law must ever be preached in conjunction with the gospel. One way of escape is open.

 Paul points to it here, he will tell of it at great length presently; what he here says is preliminary. To regard it as the last word is to turn the law into just what moralists make it, as offering salvation by reform, the very thing Paul shows to be impossible

Some commentators note this progression of Paul’s thought but not its bearing on the great subject of God’s saving righteousness through faith alone, the connection with which is so plain. Other’s think that Paul scored the Gentiles in Rom. 1:18–32 and now in Rom. 2:1–3:20 scores the Jews in the same fashion. But he deals with the moralists in this chapter.

Paul is preaching the law to these moralists, and the law always climaxes in the final judgment.

Paul now strikes home. The moralist—damnation awaits him on judgment day! Thus is this judge judged. Paul here and now pronounces God’s own verdict upon this judge who is so busy with his moralism and passing verdicts upon others that he has forgotten to pass the proper judgment on himself. Thus is his mouth stopped, Rom.3:19.

 This divine verdict is now uttered upon this man so that, by crushing him utterly, he may be actually brought to repentance, may, indeed, escape the judgment of God now and at that day. For Paul is preaching the law to this man. This entire section is law, law in preparation for the gospel that follows in Rom.3:21, etc.

 This should not be overlooked. Some think that Paul is simply sending this man to his doom, is now done with him. This is not prophecy, it is law, and the apostles use the law aright, namely to awaken the terrors conscientiae. 

Note terrors of conscience; fears of the anger of God and of eternal damnation resting on a perception of one’s own sinfulness and moral inability.

Richard A. Muller, Dictionary of Latin and Greek Theological Terms: Drawn Principally from Protestant Scholastic Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic: A Division of Baker Publishing Group, 2017), 356.)

The New Testament retains this office of the law and teaches it, as Paul does and says, in Romans 1:18: “The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all” people. Also Romans 3:19–20: “So that … the whole world may be held accountable to God” and “no human being will be justified in his sight”; and Christ says in John 16:8: the Holy Spirit “will convict the world of sin.”

 Now this is the thunderbolt of God, by means of which he destroys both the open sinner and the false saint and allows no one to be right but drives the whole lot of them into terror and despair. This is the hammer of which Jeremiah speaks: “My word is a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces” Jer. 23:29.

 This is not “active contrition,” a contrived remorse, but “passive contrition,” true affliction of the heart, suffering, and the pain of death.  (Robert Kolb, Timothy J. Wengert, and Charles P. Arand, The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2000), 312.)

Paul says (Rom. 4:15), “The law brings wrath.” He does not say that by the law men merit the forgiveness of sins. For the law always accuses and terrifies consciences

Theodore G. Tappert, ed., The Book of Concord the Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church. (Philadelphia: Mühlenberg Press, 1959), 112.

Paul’s object is far greater than merely to convict also them of unrighteousness. He robs them, absolutely must rob them, of their moralism and their moralizing because they regard this as the way of escape from God’s wrath (Rom.1:18).

 They have reformed, they see all this horrible wickedness of men, they turn against it, do it seriously, the Jewish moralist even with God’s own perfect law, and they deem this the way of escape for themselves as well as for others.

 But the only way of escape is the righteousness of God by faith, which alone wipes out all man’s unrighteousness. Paul had to demolish this deluding moralism.

He confounds their moralism by their moralism, not to prove all men sinners, but to dumbfound all moralists who think that they and all men are able to escape from their sins—sins which all of them admit—by reforming, by moralism.

 He confronts them with this their supposedly sure way of escape in order to produce in them the self-conviction that this moralism is not only not a way of escape but even the worst part of their condemnation and doom.

This fellow who sets himself up as a judge over another man, why does he do it? This richly equipped Jew, who excels all of the other moralists in his grand equipment, why does he so earnestly, even so fanatically lay down the law to other men, for that matter also to careless Jews?

 Ask and answer these questions and you will see Paul’s object. The moralist wants the other man to reform, the Jewish moralist wants men to reform by adopting his Mosaic law. But this is not the way out.

 For I know that the good does not dwell within me, that is, in my flesh. For the desire to do the good lies close at hand, but not the ability. Rom. 7:18 NRSVue.

For Paul, however, the existing Torah is neither grace nor help. Its fulfilment is not the goal. It is the religious mode of human self-assertion. 

 What a person wants is salvation. What he creates is disaster. This is also true, and especially so, of the pious who are faithful to the law (Furnish, Ethics, 142). This is what is meant by “good” and “evil” in these verses.

 A person thinks he knows what he is doing and what he can expect. But he lives under an illusion, since the will of God becomes the basis of one’s own pious self-assertion and thus leads to one’s own destruction. The exegetical key to the text is to be found in Rom.9:31f. and Rom 10:3.

A human being is not seen as one who can fight against his destiny and can change his fate, as the moral will tries to do.

 If this is not possible, however, the formula of a rift in existence is misleading if it has in view anything other or more than an impotent spectator of the tragedy played out in one’s own life (Ernst Käsemann, Commentary on Romans, ed. and trans. Geoffrey W. Bromiley, First edition (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1994), 201,203,205)

Thus, the θέλειν-wish; want of Rom. 7:15 is the inner intention of man to keep the Law which, grounded though it is in pleasure in the Law, never goes beyond the stage of intention.

 (Gottlob Schrenk, “Θέλω, Θέλημα, Θέλησις,” in Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, ed. Gerhard Kittel, Geoffrey W. Bromiley, and Gerhard Friedrich (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1964–), 50.)

 The fact that men have God in their consciousness, know that they are worthy of death and yet do the death-worthy things and applaud others who do them, this fact does not establish the truth that the man who judges, condemns, and seeks to stop them is “without excuse.” This adjective places this judge back into Rom.1:20, into that whole paragraph.

 He is one of this whole mass of (mankind) (Rom.1:18) who hold up the truth in unrighteousness.

 As such Paul has once before, in Rom. 1:20, branded him together with all the rest as being “without excuse.” Paul is now not again doing this. With διό (Therefore) he is affixing a new and a second and a more terrible brand to this man. By presuming to act as a judge of men with whom he is in the same condemnation he becomes worse even than those whom he judges. Romans 2:1–3 

Let us note the paradox which brings on Paul’s dramatic language. Has not the climax of sin been reached in Rom.1:32, when men realize God’s righteous ordinance that death is the only reward and yet fly in the face of it, do, and even move others to do what is thus death-worthy?

No, Paul says, this climax is climaxed in the man who does—the very opposite! They, fully realizing what is involved, go on and persuade others to go on; this man, also realizing what is involved, assumes a judicial sternness and decrees that everybody must stop, must stop forthwith.

 How, then, can he be worse than those? Why, he is a thousand times better! Certainly, all should stop and be stopped. And yet this judge is the worst of all, doubly “without excuse,” not only worst in his person, but also in his influence on others.

 He represents the very delusion that must be destroyed if the gospel is to stand.

Paul’s exposure of the godlessness and unrighteousness of men, down even to their going counter to their own convictions—here include all the prophets, Christ, and all the apostles!—aims to drive men to the gospel, to God’s righteousness by faith in Christ; this judge’s excoriation-denounce, decry, and condemn of men’s wickedness, even when he uses Paul’s words (Rom.1:18–32) or other Biblical words, does the direct opposite: 

drives men to fatuous moralism, the false refuge where sits this judge himself, sure in the thought that he is safe, sure that all whom he can persuade to sit with him will be equally safe.  

This judge, because of his very judging, thinks he is quite fit to live, thinks others, too, would be fit if only they heeded him, and only the dynamite Paul here puts under him in order to explode his refuge of moralism may make him accessible to God’s law and the gospel. 

The archer may lose his game by shooting short, as well as shooting wide. The gross hypocrite shoots wide, the most upright moralist shoots short. He may and often does take his aim right as to the particular and immediate end of his action, but always fails in regard of the ultimate end. William Gurnall Matthew 15:2–9; Mark 7:9–13

Elliot Ritzema and Elizabeth Vince, eds., 300 Quotations for Preachers from the Puritans, Pastorum Series (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2013). 

Many a pulpit of today has in it a duplicate of Paul’s ἄνθρωπος ὁ κρίνων (O man, everyone who passes judgment). These judges use the pulpit for their pronouncements.

 Hear how they blast the wickedness of men all about them. They seek to create a sensation. The papers print and applaud. The man who preaches law and gospel like Paul and those who repent and believe get a long column of silence in the papers.

 Do you wonder that the apostle becomes dramatic when he confounds the protagonist of this moralism?... In Rom. 1:32 the wicked applaud the wicked; this judge applauds those who reform. He is a mighty moralist who is acclaimed as “a power for good in the world” and proud of this.

What Paul says is that the moment this judge opens his mouth, whether to acquit or to condemn, by the mere fact of judging he condemns himself. Let him but open his mouth for or against the other man, out comes “guilty” against himself, The man never knew that, only those who have gone to school with Paul and with his Master now know it.

 This knowledge comes as a shock. Paul wants it to come that way. He strikes in this way more than once in this epistle. Men look up to this judge; Paul shows him and them that the fellow is not only condemned by God but is even self-condemned (Luke 19:22).

 When people living in the moral-performance narrative base their self-worth on being hard working or theologically sound, then they must look down on those whom they perceive to be lazy or theologically weak. But those who understand the gospel cannot possibly look down on anyone, since they were saved by sheer grace, not by their perfect doctrine or strong moral character. 

Martin Luther had the basic insight that moralism is the default mode of the human heart. Even Christians who believe the gospel of grace on one level can continue to operate as if they have been saved by their works. 

In “The Great Sin” in Mere Christianity, Lewis writes, “If we find that our religious life is making us feel that we are good—above all, that we are better than someone else—I think we may be sure that we are being acted on, not by God, but by the Devil.” (Tim Keller, “The Advent of Humility: Jesus Is the Reason to Stop Concentrating on Ourselves,” Christianity Today (Carol Stream, IL: Christianity Today International, 2008), 52–53. )

 The best commentary on “the same things” is that given by Jesus in Matt. 5:20, etc. Many censorious-severely critical moralists keep clear of the grosser forms of sin, but what about that in view of (Matt. 15:19; 7:1–5?) In regard to the matter of judging note what Jesus says of himself in (John 8:15, 16; 3:17), and Paul of himself and of the Christians in (1 Cor. 5:12–6:3). When true Christians voice God’s judgment on the basis of this Word they first bow to it themselves in true repentance.

Paul tears away the curtain behind which this moralist has been hiding. Once more he gets to hear his guilt: “judging those committing such things and (yet) doing them (thyself).”

 The very idea that a man like this should expect to escape God’s judgment, regarding which we all know that it stands like a rock against those who commit such things, to say nothing about their judging others!

 It is about time that this man be shown in what a desperate situation he is although he feels himself secure. The fact that by his judging he is drawing others into the same delusive security is implied only by the judging with which he is charged.

Here we see why Paul devotes so much attention to this type of sinners. Because of their moralism they count on escaping God’s judgment.

 By calling on people to reform, by denouncing those who will not, by lauding those who will, they as “a great power for good in the world” take it for granted that they will escape, will not be caught in God’s judgment.

 In fact, only because of this conviction regarding themselves could they continue their moralistic judging. Paul’s question, which is really stronger than an assertion, melts away this conviction. Escape? Nay, they will be doubly caught! (R. C. H. Lenski, The Interpretation of St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans (Columbus, Ohio: Lutheran Book Concern, 1936), 128–137.)

Humility is crucial for Christians. We can only receive Christ through meekness and humility (Matt. 5:3, 5; 18:3–4). Jesus humbled himself and was exalted by God (Phil. 2:8–9); therefore joy and power through humility is the very dynamic of the Christian life (Luke 14:11; 18:14; 1 Pet. 5:5).

The teaching seems simple and obvious. The problem is that it takes great humility to understand humility, and even more to resist the pride that comes so naturally with even a discussion of the subject.

We are on slippery ground because humility cannot be attained directly. Once we become aware of the poison of pride, we begin to notice it all around us. We hear it in the sarcastic, snarky voices in newspaper columns and weblogs. We see it in civic, cultural, and business leaders who never admit weakness or failure. We see it in our neighbors and some friends with their jealousy, self-pity, and boasting. (Tim Keller, “The Advent of Humility: Jesus Is the Reason to Stop Concentrating on Ourselves,” Christianity Today (Carol Stream, IL: Christianity Today International, 2008), 52–53. )

August Lecerf rightly points out that our apologetic arguments

    have no persuasive value except from the moment when, at once vanquished and enlightened by grace, the natural man consents, as is his objective duty, to relinquish the autonomy of his reason and submit to the discriminating principle of religious truth.

 This principle consists in the affirmation of the absolute independence and exclusive sovereignty of God in the noetic order, as in all the orders of reality.

 It is the soli Deo gloria- glory to God alone.

 Christian apologetics must reckon with this truth by beginning with the self-attesting word of Scripture as an absolutely necessary presupposition, the assurance of which being produced by the Holy Spirit, who opens blinded eyes to see God speaking authoritatively in the Bible and who grants a heart of flesh enabled to bow before the Holy Sovereign

Greg L. Bahnsen, Presuppositional Apologetics: Stated and Defended, ed. Joel McDurmon (Powder Springs, GA;Nacogdoches, TX: American Vision;Covenant Media Press, 2008), 9,10