The Lasting Shadow of a Presuppositional Thinker
Cornelius Van Til was a towering figure in Reformed apologetics, whose influence continues to shape theological discourse even decades after his passing. Though I never met him personally but knew many who did, his intellectual legacy has left an undeniable mark on many theologians I have engaged with over the years. His work on presuppositional apologetics, particularly the Creator-creature distinction, stands as one of the most powerful and enduring contributions to theological thought.
A Neo-Calvinist Framework I Respect
Van Til’s theological framework was deeply rooted in the neo-Calvinist Dutch Reformed tradition, a school of thought I have studied, interacted with, and, at times, appreciated—but never fully embraced, namely because it was born in the European political realm which is the baggage it bears and overlooked by those in the New World. His system carried the distinctive imprint of Abraham Kuyper’s vision of sphere sovereignty, the theological insights of Bavinck, and the rigorous covenantal theology of Reformed scholasticism. For many who walk in those circles, Van Til remains a kind of patron saint of apologetics, his work forming the intellectual backbone of Westminster Theological Seminary and beyond to my cemetery, oh I mean esteemed seminary, Reformed Theological, in Florida — mainly for the great people that made up such a bold institution.
As alluded, I never felt compelled to adopt his broader neo-Calvinist approach or at least like many other who have taken his thought, but it is his method that is key, which many miss. Thus, my theological journey has taken me in different directions, including deep engagement with Medieval theology, the historical Jesus pursuit and Jewish exegesis, namely perspectives that extend beyond the boundaries of the Dutch Reformed world, yet Van Til was a systemic exegete and thus a great missionary who did not remain in his Americanized Nederlander world, but was a street evangelist and churchman in a rather small and distinct Presbyterian denomination — something I understood having immigrant parents from a narrow culturally bound European church background. Therefore, Van Til’s system cannot be so easily dismissed. If anything, time has only deepened my respect for him.
From Catholic Interactions to Presuppositional Convictions
What ultimately brought me to appreciate Van Til’s presuppositionalism was not an internal development within Reformed theology but rather my years of studying with Roman Catholics. While I profoundly respect the Catholic intellectual tradition and its vast contributions to theology, philosophy, and its symbolic biblical exegesis, I found myself returning to Van Til’s central insight: at the core of all human reasoning lies an inescapable commitment—either to autonomous human thought or to divine revelation.
This is where Van Til’s work on the Creator-creature distinction shines. He understood, perhaps better than most, that all knowledge, all epistemology, is dependent upon one’s fundamental presuppositions. He insisted that there is no neutral ground between believer and unbeliever—every worldview is built upon either submission to God’s self-revealing truth or a rejection of it in favor of human autonomy. This insight was far more profound than many of his critics admitted, and it became particularly clear to me when engaging with Catholic thought.
Catholicism, especially in its Thomistic expression, seeks to maintain a kind of middle ground in epistemology—an attempt to bridge autonomous human reason with divine revelation. But Van Til exposed the flaw in this approach: without the fear of the Lord as the foundation of knowledge (Proverbs 1:7), reason itself becomes an idol. This does not mean rejecting natural theology outright, but it does mean recognizing that all true knowledge ultimately depends upon divine revelation. Even deeper, it was Rome’s audacity and sophistication through the millennia that proves it is a type of Edom as many authoritative Rabbis like RASHI rightly frame - more on that later if you haven’t already discovered such a paradigm shift in my approach to Reformed Covenant Theology.
Van Til and Schaeffer: A Different Kind of Apologetics
One of the common comparisons made in apologetic circles is between Cornelius Van Til and Francis Schaeffer whom I read before struggling through the texts of Van Til years ago at Prairie Bible Institute. Schaeffer, though influenced by Van Til, diverged in his approach, particularly in his willingness to use elements of classical apologetics alongside presuppositionalism. While Schaeffer was far more accessible to laypeople and culturally engaged, Van Til remained the rigorous, uncompromising philosopher-theologian, never straying from the foundational presuppositionalist stance.
I have come to see that Schaeffer, though brilliant in his own right, did not maintain the same epistemological sharpness that Van Til did. While Schaeffer sought to engage the broader world of art, culture, and philosophy, Van Til remained committed to demonstrating that all worldviews outside of Christian theism were inherently self-contradictory. He would not concede an inch of epistemological ground to secular reasoning or naturalistic assumptions.
In a time when many evangelicals are eager to accommodate modernity in order to appear reasonable, Van Til’s rigid stance is refreshing. He reminds us that the battle for truth is not fought on neutral ground—it is a battle of presuppositions, of ultimate commitments, of fundamental loyalties.
Van Til and Barth: The Clash of Revelations
Cornelius Van Til and Karl Barth stood as titanic opposites in 20th-century theology—both claiming the primacy of revelation, yet meaning something profoundly different. For Barth, revelation was a Christ-event—dynamic, dialectical, and self-contained—where Scripture bore witness but was not itself revelation. For Van Til, this was theological sleight of hand. He saw Barth’s system as a return to neo-orthodox autonomyu, cloaked in evangelical language. Van Til insisted that revelation was not an existential encounter but a covenantal speech act—clear, propositional, and rooted in the Creator-creature distinction. Where Barth dissolved the line between history and faith, Van Til fortified it with the walls of God’s sovereign self-disclosure. Their conflict was not just over theology—it was over reality itself.
Interpreters of Van Til: The Legacy Continues
Though Van Til himself is gone, his influence persists through his interpreters and biographers many my dear professors. John Muether, has done an excellent job of chronicling Van Til’s life and work in his biography Cornelius Van Til: Reformed Apologist and Churchman. Muether’s great gift is in showing Van Til not simply as a polemicist but as a faithful churchman and evangelist, who labored for theological clarity because he loved the Church. His apologetics were not theoretical; they were pastoral.
Likewise, Richard Pratt and John Frame have further developed Van Til’s ideas, sometimes modifying them, sometimes defending them, but always engaging with the depth of his thought. Frame in particular has sought to make Van Til’s system more accessible, even at the cost of controversy among stricter adherents. I believe Frame has rendered a valuable service in ensuring that presuppositionalism remains a living tradition rather than a static monument to a past thinker.
The Clark Controversy: Vindicating Van Til’s Distinction
Nowhere is Van Til’s vision clearer—or more vindicated—than in his dispute with Gordon Clark. Though often dismissed as an intramural spat, the debate centered on one of the most fundamental questions in theology: can human knowledge ever be identical to God’s?
Van Til said no. He drew a sharp line between archetypal knowledge (God’s) and ectypal knowledge (man’s). Even in revelation, we know analogically—not identically. Clark, in contrast, seemed to argue for a form of identity in propositions between divine and human knowledge, blurring the very boundary Van Til believed Scripture preserved.
In this dispute, Van Til was protecting something deeper than epistemology. He was guarding a metaphysical reverence. If we cross that line, we risk domesticating God. We begin to possess truth rather than receive it.
The Clark controversy, though painful, was a moment of theological clarity—and Van Til’s warnings now appear prophetic. In an era where so many collapse God into systems, slogans, or national projects, Van Til’s careful distinction shines as a safeguard against theological idolatry.
The Philosopher They Overlooked
It’s worth noting, on a personal level, that while at RTS, Cornelius Van Til’s influence far outweighed that of R.C. Sproul—despite Sproul’s wider popularity in evangelical circles and his own spat with RTS. Van Til was the mind we were taught to wrestle with. And rightly so.
Sproul, for all his eloquence and clarity, never quite appreciated the depth of Van Til’s theological project. His classical commitments—especially his fondness for Aquinas and natural theology—placed him at odds with Van Til’s uncompromising stance on the noetic effects of sin and the antithesis between belief and unbelief. At times, Sproul even seemed to speak of Van Til with condescension, as if his approach lacked philosophical rigor or historical grounding.
Ronald Nash, another popular evangelical philosopher and a professor for whom I graded papers and followed Cleveland ‘Indians’ baseball with, similarly dismissed Van Til’s method. Nash championed a kind of rational evangelicalism rooted in libertarian political thought and analytic clarity—but with little patience for Van Til’s covenantal metaphysics nor for my writings. For Nash, ever the curmudgeon and more my style, Van Til’s critiques of autonomy and neutrality seemed overstated, perhaps even irrelevant to his own apologetic priorities. Thus I have learned but it hasn’t come quickly nor easily for various stubborn reasons both Nash and I share coming from Cleveland.
However my appreciation started because not every voice in that ‘all star’ theological environment minimized Van Til. Charles MacKenzie, one of my favorite philosophers at RTS and a devoted Pascal scholar, taught me to love them all and nobody was further from Van Til than Dr. MacKenzie. He encouraged us to appreciate the contributions of Van Til, Sproul, and Nash without collapsing their differences. It was under his guidance that I began to understand philosophy (a very long road for me) not as a battleground of tribes, but as a pursuit of truth under the weight of grace. MacKenzie’s love for Pascal—the philosopher of heart, paradox, and humility—resonated deeply with Van Til’s own reverent epistemology. Both men understood that true knowledge is received, not conquered.
MacKenzie showed me that reverence and reason are not enemies. He gave me a framework to honor Van Til without becoming sectarian—to listen deeply, think covenantally, and submit everything to the light of revelation.
So while Sproul and Nash may have overlooked Van Til, MacKenzie helped me recognize what was at stake in his work. He taught me how to love truth without reducing it, and for that, I remain indebted.
What Van Til Would Not Endorse: A Word to the Christian Nationalists
This brings us to the present. Many in today’s New Calvinist or Christian Nationalist circles claim Van Til as a foundational figure. They quote his apologetic method, speak of worldview antithesis, and use his categories to frame their cultural arguments. But let us be clear: Van Til would not endorse what now goes under his name. Just like Francis Schaeffer and the Christian Right which his son Franky, frankly, claims he started.
Val Til was not a theonomist! He did not seek Christendom 2.0. His presuppositionalism was about submission, not strategy. His legacy is one of reverence for God’s holiness, not of conquest in God’s name. To use Van Til to justify a political theology of Christian dominance is to turn his Creator-creature distinction into a caricature—and to forget the humility at the heart of his system.
In Torat Edom terms: Van Til stood with Jacob, not Esau as much of Western theology does with it’s abstract power plays. He resisted the temptation to seize the inheritance by force, choosing instead to dwell in the tent of revelation, faithfully receiving truth from the text of scripture and practice to evangelize. The Christian Nationalist appropriation of Van Til mirrors Edom—bold, aggressive, self-assured, and willing to trade covenantal humility for a authority that is NOT from the Holy Spirit.
If one wants to see a better and perhaps controversial heir of Van Til’s legacy, Tim Keller (1950 -2023) comes to mind. I remember him coming to RTS for brown bag lunches before he wrote his books and became a celebrity—accessible, wise, curious, and disarmingly pastoral. Like Van Til, Keller believed in the absolute necessity of God’s self-revelation, yet he carried that conviction with gentleness and a deep commitment to evangelism. He too has been misunderstood—by both the left and the right—for refusing to let theology become a tool of partisanship. Keller understood what many forget: that apologetics is not a weapon for cultural triumph, but a bridge toward gospel invitation.
In Keller, Van Til’s covenantal reverence became pastoral strategy, and his philosophical antithesis became spiritual invitation.
Keller’s recent passing reminds us that Van Til’s legacy isn’t just academic—it’s pastoral, evangelistic, and quietly resistant to the spirit of domination. It’s not about reclaiming power, but about restoring truth through humility and faithful presence.
Final Thoughts: A Lasting Respect for Van Til’s Shadow
I do not consider myself a full-fledged Van Tilian, nor do I subscribe to every aspect of his theological system. But his work on presuppositionalism—particularly his articulation of the Creator-creature distinction—has left an indelible mark on my thinking. Even where I diverge from him, I do so with deep respect, recognizing the profound truth he stewarded and the lasting relevance of his insight.
Van Til’s shadow looms large over the Reformed world, and rightly so. He was not merely a polemicist or philosopher—he was a churchman and evangelist, a guardian of the truth, and a theologian who knew the weight of reverence. I cannot ignore the enduring clarity and challenge of his voice.
For that, I am grateful.
Gloria was elated,
I asked Tim if he was still wearing
the suit jackets
RTS Professor Steve Childers gave him.
