How do you critique someone whom you respect? Frankly, we should critique those we love the same way we critique those we struggle to appreciate. In all critiques there should be a sense of honest evaluation and yet graciousness. A good example can be found in Oliver Crisp’s critique of the hamartiology of Jonathan Edwards. In his book Jonathan Edwards and the Metaphysics of Sin Crisp applauds the creativity and diligence of Edwards, all the while finding his philosophy to be in inconsistent. While Edwards is ultimately unsuccessful if defending his metaphysics of sin, he nonetheless gives hope for solving a host of common theological conundrums.
This book is most assuredly a work of academic philosophy. It is technical in a number of its discussions. Readers familiar with the style of such philosophers as Alvin Plantinga will find Crips’s prose familiar. Often it is engaging and fascinating as he unpacks the implications of Edwards’s theses. Chapter 4 on “The Secret and Revealed Will of God” was particularly interesting as it explicated some of the underlying philosophy of my own beliefs. Chapter 5, in turn, was so technically dense and complicated that I am still not sure I understood it. The average reader will find that they are not Crisp’s target audience, but those wiling to wade through the jargon and able to follow the logical arguments will discover some of the strengths and weaknesses of Edwards’ philosophical contributions.
All theologians face similar conundrums as they attempt to explain the doctrine of sin. A series of question dominate both Edwards’ works and Crisp analysis of Edwards’ work: Who is the author of sin? What is the relationship between sin and God’s sovereignty? How did Adam, created perfect, commit sin in the first place? How can Adam’s sin be justly imputed to the rest of his progeny? These are common questions that all Bible-believing theologians must wrestle with, and some throughout the history of the church have attempted answers. According to Crisp, it was Edwards’ thorough formulations that raised “the standard of discussion about this cluster of issues to a new level of limpidity and philosophical acuity” (1). In fact, though Edwards argues from within the classic Reformed tradition, and does not see himself as departing from that tradition, he intends to go deeper in his explanations than his predecessors had. Crsip notes:
This should not be taken to suggest that Edwards’ hamartiology was a break with that tradition. What is presented herein is not a ‘strange new Edwards’. He strove to make the puritanical doctrinal legacy relevant in the very different conditions in which he found himself. That meant reformulation and development, but not, as far as he was concerned, departure from that tradition. (1)
But it is in the nature of these reformulations and developments that makes Jonathan Edwards such an important figure to the philosophical discussion on the metaphysics of sin, but not because he solved these aforementioned conundrums.
As Crisp dives into the depths of Edwards varied literature on the subject of sin he finds a number of unique contributions to the philosophical literature, and yet he finds too that Edwards, despite his best efforts, is actually not successful in solving the problems that he aims at. He does not end up defending God against the charge of being the author of sin, and he does not end up proving that it is just to attribute Adam’s original guilt to all humanity. In fact, according to Crisp, his particular brand of determinism and his particular use and development of “occasionalism” end up undermining much of the defense that he builds. Often, Crisp points out, that Edwards deft logic is internally coherent, and yet applied to his theology broadly it is inconsistent. Crisp notes in particular that his doctrine of “occasionalism” is “the single greatest flaw in his doctrine of sin” (130). A “chastened Edwardsian metaphysics,” however, could possibly provide “an intriguing response” to some of these theological conundrums. Crisp, in his conclusion, does not believe that Edwards solves the dilemmas he sets out to address, but yet he does pave the road for further resolution within the Augustinian tradition.
What I love about this book is really its tone. There is no denying that it is academic and dense at points. The style of philosophical argumentation can be hard to grasp at times as Crisp refers back to his various equations – The strength of (P1)-(P3) mean that together, there is no possibility of (5) obtaining, where A is God and B is some other agent. Yet despite all of this what is most compelling is that the author is sensitive to Edwards’ theology. He does not write as one offended by Edwards Calvinistic tendencies or one critical of Edwards motives, behavior, or general beliefs. Rather, Crisp is sympathetic towards Edwards beliefs, and yet he is honest in his assessment of his theology. Crisp is fair and respectful. That is such a rare combination. When it comes to Jonathan Edwards my own limited reading has found that scholars are either overly critical and dismissive of his contributions, or they tend toward forms of hero-worship unbecoming of good scholarship. Crisp avoids such pitfalls and provides readers with an insightful look at the strengths of Edwards’ logic, and yet the real difficulty involved in navigating the theological and philosophical waters of the doctrine of sin. Edwards may not succeed in resolving these tensions, but Crisp thinks he gets us closer. For those willing and able to read it, Jonathan Edwards and the Metaphysics of Sin can thoroughly support that assertion.