Lux Lucet

The Incarnation by Gordon H. Clark (Jefferson, Maryland: The Trinity Foundation, 91 pages, 1988), $8.95.

For several reasons, The Incarnation
is a noteworthy book. First, it is Gordon Clark’s final publication, written at the very end of his life and published posthumously. Second, it is a masterpiece of logical reasoning and clear writing. As if to prove correct the psalmist’s comment about the righteous, that they “still shall bear fruit in old age,” Clark’s thinking is just as acute in this book as at any time in his long and distinguished career. Third, it is brief. At 91 pages, it makes for a short it can be read in a single sitting. and yet for all its brevity, it is also quite profound. Fourth, it is perhaps Clark’s most controversial writing, in which he weighs the Creed of Chalcedon in the balance and finds it, if not entirely wanting, certainly in dire need of renovation.

Although Gordon Clark (1902-1985) died before completing The Incarnation, he left it in a state such that, practically speaking, it was a complete work at the time of his decease. As John Robbins commented in the book’s Foreward,

At the time he [Clark] was stricken mortally ill in February 1985, he was writing the present volume, which he titled Concerning the Incarnation. He did not quite finish the book, intending to add a few more paragraphs summarizing his hundred pages of analysis and argumentation, so he asked this writer to complete it for him…I have added only two paragraphs to his words (ix).

The additional summary paragraphs written by Robbins fall at the very end of the book and are clearly marked.

As for the book’s analysis and argumentation, it is first rate start to finish. Clark brings a logician’s eye to the Creed of Chalcedon and finds much that is lacking. This likely comes as a surprise to many readers. For since its formulation in A.D. 451, Chalcedon has been held up as the final word on the incarnation. But Clark makes a compelling case that the Creed, although helpful in some places, also is beset with serious shortcomings, chief among them being the lack of clear definitions for its principle terms.

The present reviewer has much sympathy for Clark’s criticism of Chalcedon. When I first began to read serious theology, the incarnation was a source of real frustration for me. The authors I read all seemed learned enough. Their writings were filled with Latin and Greek terminology that, although sounding impressive, did nothing to convey to me a single coherent idea. It was enough to make me give up reading theology altogether. I began to think perhaps I just wasn’t bright enough to understand anything about how the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. After reading Clark’s Incarnation, I came to the astounding realization that my previous inability to grasp the topic wasn’t my lack of sophistication. Rather, the problem was that much of the learned and pious sounding verbiage that I found so confusing was, in fact, nonsense that the writers themselves did not understand.

As those familiar with his other writings know already, Clark is insistent that authors define the words they use. On page 6, Clark criticizes the Creed’s lack of precise definitions this way,

The greatest difficulty [with understanding the Creed] is the vagueness of the terms such as manhood, rational soul, consubstantial, nature, person, and subsistence. To this day theologians have quoted these words without explaining them.

On page 55, Clark summarizes the importance of definitions with the slogan, “Discard or Define!,” by which he means, imprecise theological language should be replaced with terms that convey clear ideas. This seems like such an elementary point, yet it is one often overlooked by theologians, who of all men should be most aware of it.

Regarding the structure of the book, it is typically Clarkian. By that I mean Clark will state the question under consideration up front, walk the reader through a history of how others have grappled with the issue, acknowledging both their successes and pointing out their shortcomings, then conclude with his own answer.

Clark was immensely learned. For the reader new to theology, this can prove

Presbyterian theologian and philosopher Gordon H. Clark, 1902-1985.

somewhat daunting, as the author readily draws from the fifteen hundred year scholastic history of the incarnation in the course of his discussion. But even though Clark writes at a high level, it is an approachable high level. By this I mean that, although the general reader likely won’t understand everything Clark says the first time through, there are many gems lying in plain sight that can make Clark a rewarding read, even for someone fairly new to serious Biblical scholarship. .

For example, during his discussion of Nestorius on page 11, Clark makes a very interesting point about the birth of Christ. Clark quotes an accusation Cassian (360-432?) had brought against Nestorius ,”Nestorius maintained that ‘that which was formed in the womb of Mary was not God himself.’ ” “But,” Clark goes on to explain, “this is no heresy. The Second Person of the Trinity was not formed in Mary. The Logos was never formed at all. He is eternal.”

This is a very practical point. How many times have we heard the Romanists insist that Mary was the Mother of God. But as Clark points out, the Logos, the Second Person of the Trinity, has no mother. He is eternal. Especially at this time of year, let Protestants proclaim, as do the Scriptures, that Mary was the mother Jesus. And lest anyone suppose that by this comment either Clark or this reviewer deny the deity of Christ, please let him read below.

It was mentioned above that The Incarnation is a controversial work. There are two points in this book that draw the ire of Clark’s critics. The first is his definition of the term “person.” Of all the terms in the Creed, Clark considered “person” to be the most important one in need of a definition. For Clark, a person is the thoughts he thinks.

Therefore, since God is Truth, we shall define person, not as a composite of sensory impressions, as Hume did, but, rejecting with him the meaningless term substance, we shall define a person as a composite of truths. A bit more exactly, since all men make mistakes and believe some falsehoods, the definition must be a composite of propositions. As a man thinketh in his (figurative) heart, so is he. A man is what he thinks (54).

Realizing that his definition of person will strike some as odd, Clark comments,

I have offered a definition of the term person. Most will find it queer. Most theologians will find it unacceptable. Well and good, let them formulate and propose a different definition…

Because fifteen hundred years of chanting nonsense produces an ingrained habit, a new idea has a hard time making progress. One of the commonest objections to defining a person as a complex of thoughts or propositions seems immediately to spout like a geyser. How many times I have heard it! That, they say, makes your wife just a proposition. This is, I suppose, expected to cover me with shame. Actually it is hard to think of a more stupid refutation…

More substantial is the consideration, which seems never to have occurred to my critics, that if I myself am a complex of thoughts, I was not at the time greatly disturbed to have had a wife so much to my liking (76).

This definition of person is critical to Clark’s explanation of the incarnation. This is the second controversial conclusion Clark makes in his book. Chalcedon, and with it every theologian and confession of faith with any pretension to being orthodox, asserted that Christ was and is two natures – one divine and one human – united in one person forever.

Council of Chalcedon, A.D. 451.

On the other hand, Clark rejects Chalcedon’s explanation and instead asserts that Christ is two persons in one individual. Christ is a divine person – the Logos, the Second Person of the Trinity – and a human person Jesus of Nazareth.

Some are quick to brand this Nestorianism, but this is more reflexive than thoughtful. For as Clark points out, “Neither Nestorius nor his opponents had any clear idea of what a person is” (75). Clark sums up his argument by writing,

The usual theological treatment of the problem is so self-contradictory that nearly any escape looks promising. After stating that Jesus was a man, a “true” man, the theologians continue by arguing that he was not a man at all – he was only a “nature.” For them the boy in the temple and the assistant carpenter in Nazareth was some set of qualities attaching to the Second Person. But this is impossible for two reasons. First, it attaches contradictory characteristics to a single Person. He is both omnipotent and frail; he is both omnipresent and localized; he is omniscient, but he is ignorant of some things. In the second place, closely related to the first, the characteristics of an ordinary man cannot possibly attach to Deity. The Logos never gets tired or thirsty; the Logos never increases in either stature or wisdom. The Logos is eternal and immutable. How then can these human characteristics possibly be characteristics of God? But by irresponsibly assigning such qualities to God, the theologians contradict their other statement that Jesus was a true man. Even the word true betrays the weakness of their position. Let you yea be year and your nay be nay. The Scripture simply and plainly says, “The Man Christ Jesus.”

As John Robbins helpfully explains in his concluding paragraph to Clark’s book, “Jesus Christ was and is both God and man, a divine person and a human person” (78). One can distinguish between, but not separate, the Logos and the Man Christ Jesus, but they cannot be separated. 

For what it is worth, this reviewer is in agreement with Clark on his understanding of the incarnation. It is by far the most coherent explanation he has read of the John’s great statement, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” Profound and challenging, The Incarnation belongs on the book shelf of every serious Bible student.