Edwards, Jonathan. Religious Affections. Works of Jonathan Edwards, Volume One. Carlisle, PA: The Banner of Truth Trust, 1979.
It is almost a cliche at this point to say that Jonathan Edwards was the greatest mind America ever produced. So he was. It is far more fascinating to see how Edwards’s thought “cashes out” when applied using the tools of analytic theology. At the risk of anachronism, Edwards’s work anticipated several key gains in modern analytic theology: such as Alvin Plantinga’s warrant epistemology and the holistic unity of the human person in his choosing.
Writing to steer his community away from a cold rationalism on one hand and mindless enthusiasm on the other, Edwards explores what constitutes a true experience of God. While he will ultimately agree that such an experience must always be “backed up” by the word, he is aware that sometimes such an answer is not immediately helpful. To unpack that, therefore, requires an examination of mind, body, and human choice.
For starters, an affection is “a vigorous and sensible exercise of the inclination and will of the soul” (1.1.2). JE clarifies that “affections” are not separate from the mind and will. Affections are located in the mind but they have an affect on the body. These affections are “the spring of men’s actions.”
And if affections affect the body, then we shouldn’t be surprised to see them. On one hand, JE says we shouldn’t conjure up false affections; yet on the other hand we are within our epistemic duty to have affections. If religious affections are from the Spirit of God, and are to some degree “immediate,” then they will come to us prior to our rationally analyzing them. Or at least some time.
Of course, affections are open to defeaters, and much of JE’s book consists in offering defeaters for faulty affections, but the larger point remains: there is a doxastic relation between truth and the affections.
“Wherever true religion is, there are vigorous exercises of the inclination and will toward divine objects” (1.1.2).
“Love is the fountainhead of affections” (1.2.5).
Inclination of the soul + sensible and vigorous exercise = affection.
On the other hand, “the motion of the blood and ‘’animal’ spirits is not of the essence of these affections, but the effect of them” (1.2.8). Nonetheless, “If such true religion lies much in the affections, we may infer, that such means are to be desired, as have much tendency to move the affections” (1.3.2).
Summary of the argument at the beginning of Part Two: “All affections whatsoever have in some respect or degree an effect on the body” (2.2).
In examining whether one is rationally justified in engaging in such affections (such as, “is it really from the Spirit?”), Edwards comes very close to Alvin Plantinga’s “warrant” epistemology. To wit, “But if there be indeed a power entirely different from and beyond our power–or the power of all means and instruments, and above the power of nature…it is in no wise unreasonable to suppose that this effect should very frequently be produced after such a manner.”
And,
“When grace in the heart indeed is not produced by our own strength, nor is the effect of the natural power of our own faculties, or any means or instruments…is it a strange thing, that is should seem to them who are subjects of it, agreeable to truth, and not contrary to truth” (2.4).
In other words, if an affection comes to me prior to my rationally reflecting on it and is not at odds with God’s word, then I am warranted in accepting it. Of course, this warrant is open to possible defeaters and Edwards examines a few in the next pages. The most difficult one concerns whether an affection came “from the occasion of the Scripture, and not properly [from] the genuine fruit of the Scripture” (2.5). Or to put it simply, using an example that Edwards uses, “How do you know the devil didn’t bring it to your mind?” A possible answer, though I do not think Edwards directly considers it, is found in section eight. Edwards directs his readers to “the nature of the effect which God has brought to pass in the soul” and the Spirit’s method of producing fruit (2.8).
The next few sections concern assurance and our warrant of it. Summarizing New England Puritanism’s doctrine of assurance is a daunting task, but Edwards nicely points the reader to the relationship between knowledge of God’s promises and assurance of them (2.11). Interestingly enough, Edwards, while acknowledging the importance of self-examination, points his readers away from examination towards action (3.1).
Virtues and Gifts
He says that spiritual virtues are a more reliable indicator than spiritual gifts (3.1). He warns against having “the Spirit of God acting upon the soul only, without communicating itself to be an active principle in it.”
At this point Edwards introduces a new term: principle. A principle is the foundation or natural habit. Either in conversion or in the influx of new affections, new principles supervene on old faculties. In other words, religious affections arise from a new idea in the mind. We must keep in mind that by “idea” JE means something like the Lockean use of it.
Edwards then moves to the “witness” or “seal of the Spirit.” It is “an effect of the Spirit of God on the heart, of which natural men while such, can form no manner of notion” (3.). He then makes a rather commonsense observation which had hitherto escaped me: “When God sets his seal on a man’s heart by his spirit, there is some holy stamp, some image impressed, and left upon the heart by the Spirit, as by the seal upon the wax.”
Excellencies
Discerning to what degree, if any, JE broke with “faculty psychology” is perilous, but it appears, at least here, that he did. No longer is the intellect the seat of man, but rather “the moral excellency of an intelligent voluntary being is more immediately seated in the heart or will.” Perhaps the will still follows the intellect. I think in some sense for JE it does. Nonetheless, to borrow an example from Plato, it is no longer in the most important seat in the chariot.
Understanding
Up to this point Edwards’s argument is congruent with much of charismatic theology. Edwards now puts the brakes upon some, though not all, charismatic readings of him: for one, “knowledge is the key that first opens the hard heart” (3.4). Indeed, affections arise from a “new understanding of the excellent nature of God.” This allows him to speak of a “spiritual understanding,” a sense of the heart about spiritual beauty. When this obtains, the will and the understanding cannot be separated.” A sense of the heart, thus, is when the mind grips and relishes an object.
Conclusion
Even if one were not a Christian, he would be forced to conclude that this is a masterpiece of analytic theology and human anthropology. Edwards anticipated numerous issues in today’s philosophy of religion. This work repays careful note-taking and constant reading.