The intent of this post is to address certain questions that are either often posed to me or which I desire to address but have no obvious place to speak on. This post will be continually updated.
1. In what way is adoption to be distinguished from justification?
The answer is that they are formally distinct, adoption being a part of the form of justification.
Although I think Ames to be perhaps the best practical writer there is, I almost always find myself disagreeing with him when it comes to any theoretical controversy. Here I will pick on him as this is one of his errors.
Ames claims that:
Adoption is the gracious judgment of God wherein he gives the faithful the dignity of sonship because of Christ…it is called a gracious judgment because it manifests the will of God towards men.
By adoption we are not made just, which would follow if adoption were only a part of justification itself, as some would have it. Neither is it a calling to Christ. Adoption is rather a sublime dignity following from the application of his work…
The faithful can expect heaven, so to speak, by a double title, namely, the title of redemption through justification and the title, as it were, of sonship through adoption…
It should, however, be understood that the title of redemption is the foundation of this right and adoption adds to its excellence and dignity.
The issue here is that Ames either means to think of adoption as a judicial act of God giving right to Heaven or he means to think of adoption as an effect of this right. If the first (which might be implied by his third statement above), you run into an issue because recall that the form of justification consists in “remission or absolution and the adjudication of life.” (https://brandoncorleyschoo.wixsite.com/brandoncorley/post/on-the-formal-and-material-cause-of-justification). The right to life that Christ won for us is one and we have a right, title, and debt to eternal life based only upon that right alone because it is that right, title, and debt alone which is made up of the matter of Christ’s obedience. However, if Ames means the second, namely, that adoption is an effect of the right to eternal life (as his comments about adoption adding an “excellence” and “dignity” to this right suggest), then I would argue he has improperly defined adoption.
Now to explain what I take to be the correct position, here is Turretin, who says that:
The other part of justification [other than the remission of sins] is adoption or the bestowal of a right to life, flowing from Christ's righteousness, which acquired for us not only deliverance from death, but also a right to life by the adoption with which he endows us. For on this account, he is said to have been made under the law (hypo nomon) by an economical subjection that he might redeem us from the bondage of the law and confer upon us the adoption or the right of sons (Gal. 4:4, 5). On this, the right to life depends because "if children, then heirs" (Rom. 8:17). John says "to them who received him," i.e., "who believed on his name, he gave power to become the sons of God" (1:12). Here exousia does not signify authority or power because it has reference here to inferiors; nor faculty or potency by which a person can make himself a son. Rather it signifies axiōma (i.e., the dignity and right of sons)...
It is taken for a juridical act of God by which from his mere mercy, he adopts into his family through faith in Christ those whom he elected to salvation from eternity and bestows upon them the name and right of sons as to inheritance.
If this is the correct definition of adoption, then adoption is equivalent to the adjudication of the right to life and is therefore a part of the form of justification. Turretin goes on to say as much:
From these positions, it is gathered that to no purpose do some anxiously ask here how justification and adoption differ from each other, and whether adoption is by nature prior to justification (as some hold, who think it is the first and immediate fruit of faith by which we are united and joined to Christ; or whether posterior to and consequent upon it, as others). For since it is evident from what has been said that justification is a benefit by which God (being reconciled to us in Christ) absolves us from the guilt of sins and gives us a right to life, it follows that adoption is included in justification itself as a part which, with the remission of sins, constitutes the whole of this benefit. Nor can it be distinguished from adoption except inasmuch as it is taken strictly for remission of sins, since in its formal conception it includes also acceptation to life, which flows from the imputation of Christ's righteousness.
Now that adoption ought to be so defined, consider the case of Adam. It is often said that he was a natural son of God and yet not an adopted son of God. What precisely do we mean when we say this? Well, just as we say that Adam was righteous in one sense and yet not righteous in another sense, so also here. Adam was a natural son of God, being created with the pure and integral natural image of God in all holiness and righteousness, enjoying sweet natural communion with him. Yet Adam was no adopted son of God, that is to say, he had no right to eternal life. Now even if Adam were to have earned the right to eternal life and yet eternal life was not to be immediately granted to him but delayed until he filled the whole earth with offspring (as for instance Mereidth Kline and G. K. Beale have argued and to which I hold to be the truth of the matter), he would then be no less an adopted son of God than he would be once glorified. The reason for this is because adoption does not denote any effect of the right to eternal life, i.e. the granting of eternal life itself, glorification, the beatific vision, etc. (although these are certainly the end of adoption, Rom. 8:23), but rather denotes the adjudication of the right to life itself to us.
A question might be raised as to whether adoption is to be considered as a part of active or of passive justification.
In active justification a right to eternal life is given into our possession, but in passive justification it is made use of and applied to us. I know that Turretin says adoption is the “bestowal of a right to life, flowing from Christ's righteousness,” but it’s clear from the context* that he’s thinking of adoption properly speaking as part of the form of passive justification and not active justification, so he means here that it is bestowed inasmuch as it is made use of and applied to us. Just as we can distinguish active and passive justification, so we could also do the same with active and passive adoption, identifying the first with part of the form of active justification/imputation and the latter as adoption proper, part of the form of justification.
*For instance, the fact he says it flows from Christ’s righteousness (presumably imputed), and his definition does not specify “justification” as active justification, and thus I assume it should be taken in its usual sense of passive justification: “that adoption is included in justification itself as a part which, with the remission of sins, constitutes the whole of this benefit. Nor can it be distinguished from adoption except inasmuch as it is taken strictly for remission of sins, since in its formal conception it includes also acceptation to life, which flows from the imputation of Christ's righteousness.” Whether I am right or wrong in my reading of Turretin here is not important since we can distinguish active and passive adoption as I did above.
Whether justifying faith, in its use in our justification, formally has respect to Christ in his offices as prophet, priest, and king or in his office as priest alone?
This question, as far as I can tell, was agitated by Richard Baxter’s assertion that justifying faith embraces Christ formally considered as king and thus insofar as he demand obedience of us. The orthodox responded by asserting justifying faith formally embraces Christ in his priestly office alone. Leydekker mentions this as an error: “faith for justification directed to Christ as King, no less than High Priest.” Thomas Bell addresses this in his notes in Witsius’s Animadversions saying that Baxter had come around to the orthodox opinion by the end of his life: “[Baxter] made the marriage consent to Christ, as a King and Lord, the formal act of justifying faith, as being an epitome of all gospel obedience, and had thereby, as well as by his other dangerous notions concerning justification, corrupted the fountain, and endangered the faith of many; yet after all came to be of another mind, and had the humility to tell the world so much.”
It is worth quoting John Owen’s solution to this question at length:
1. Faith, whereby we are justified, in the receiving of Christ, principally respects his person, for all those ends for which he is the ordinance of God. It does not, in the first place, as it is faith in general, respect his person absolutely, seeing its formal object, as such, is the truth of God in the proposition, and not the thing itself proposed. Wherefore, it so respects and receives Christ as proposed in the promise, — the promise itself being the formal object of its assent.
2. We cannot so receive Christ in the promise, as in that act of receiving him to exclude the consideration of any of his offices; for as he is not at any time to be considered by us but 117 as vested with all his offices, so a distinct conception of the mind to receive Christ as a priest, but not as a king or prophet, is not faith, but unbelief, — not the receiving, but the rejecting of him.
3. In the receiving of Christ for justification formally, our distinct express design is to be justified thereby, and no more. Now, to be justified is to be freed from the guilt of sin, or to have all our sins pardoned, and to have a righteousness wherewith to appear before God, so as to be accepted with him, and a right to the heavenly inheritance. Every believer has other designs also, wherein he is equally concerned with this, — as, namely, the renovation of his nature, the sanctification of his person, and ability to live unto God in all holy obedience; but the things before mentioned are all that he aims at or designs in his applications unto Christ, or his receiving of him unto justification. Wherefore, —
4. Justifying faith, in that act or work of it whereby we are justified, respects Christ in his priestly office alone, as he was the surety of the covenant, with what he did in the discharge thereof. The consideration of his other office is not excluded, but it is not formally comprised in the object of faith as justifying.
5. When we say that the sacerdotal office of Christ, or the blood of Christ, or the satisfaction of Christ, is that alone which faith respects in justification, we do not exclude, yea, we do really include and comprise, in that assertion, all that depends thereon, or concurs to make them effectual unto our justification. As, — First, The “free grace” and favour of God in giving of Christ for us and unto us, whereby we are frequently said to be justified, Rom. iii. 24; Eph. ii. 8; Tit. iii. 7. His wisdom, love, righteousness, and power, are of the same consideration, as has been declared. Secondly. Whatever in Christ himself was necessary antecedently unto his discharge of that office, or was consequential thereof, or did necessarily accompany it. Such was his incarnation, the whole course of his obedience, his resurrection, ascension, exaltation, and intercession; for the consideration of all these things is inseparable from the discharge of his priestly office. And therefore is justification either expressly or virtually assigned unto them also, Gen. iii. 15; 1 John iii. 8; Heb. ii. 14–16; Rom. iv. 25; Acts v. 31; Heb. vii. 27; Rom. viii. 34. But yet, wherever our justification is so assigned unto them, they are not absolutely considered, but with respect unto their relation to his sacrifice and satisfaction. Thirdly. All the means of the application of the sacrifice and righteousness of the Lord Christ unto us are also included therein. Such is the principal efficient cause thereof, which is the Holy Ghost; whence we are said to be “justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God,” 1 Cor. vi. 11; and the instrumental cause thereof on the part of God, which is the “promise of the gospel,” Rom. i. 17; Gal. iii. 22, 23. It would, therefore, be unduly pretended, that by this assertion we do narrow or straiten the object of justifying faith as it justifies; for, indeed, we assign a respect unto the whole mediatory office of Christ, not excluding the kingly and prophetical parts thereof, but only such a notion of them as would not bring in more of Christ, but much of ourselves, into our justification. And the assertion, as laid down, may be proved, —
I will not quote the entire thing. You can read this at the end of chapter 3 of his Doctrine of Justification.
Now, when the question is understood as it was between Baxter, Owen, Leydekker, etc., the priestly office respecting that which Christ has done for us, I grant that Witsius/Owen/Leydekker are correct and to them I give my full assent in this. However, I want to suggest that a different, non-contradictory, but more precise answer could be given here. I say this because it seems to me that Christ’s merit and active obedience is more properly connected to his office of king than that of priest, to which the Reformed usually connected it. Consider for instance, the typology of active obedience throughout Scripture: Adam would merit by his defeat of the serpent, Abraham topologically merited by his defeat of the kings, these martial conquests being closely tied to their kingly characters (an exception to this is Phineas whose merit that benefits his descendants is related to the priestly office). The king of Israel would merit blessings for the land by meditating on the law day and night. His obedience would be reckoned to the people. So also Christ merited a Kingdom for himself by his defeat of Saran on the cross. His merit is the merit of king for eternal life for himself and his people. So it seems to me that we can say that faith embraces Christ formally as king, not however formally as he is a king over us, but as he is a king for us. I’m sure this distinction can be put in a variety of different ways, but I think we can say that faith formally embraces Christ in all 3 offices, but only formally as those offices are related to the Gospel strictly taken rather than the Gospel widely taken. On that distinction, here is Voetius:
I therefore distinguish the term "Gospel" and "evangelical preaching," which is sometimes broadly understood as the entire saving doctrine preached under the New Testament; sometimes strictly for the doctrine containing the promises of the covenant of grace, which is specifically and perpetually distinguished from the law of commandments; sometimes very strictly for the doctrine containing the promises of the covenant of grace after the manifestation of Christ. If the Gospel is taken in the second and third meanings, it is asked: Does it prescribe any precepts, either old or new? Response: No. Or at least, is that one commandment strictly or very strictly understood, "Believe in the Gospel," or "Believe in Christ," prescribed? Response: No. Therefore, you might ask: Is only this prescribed by the law, specifically by its first commandment? Response: Yes. For the duty of faith, or believing everything revealed by God, is prescribed by the law alone. But the object of this faith, or the things to be believed, namely, those special ones, which are the promises of the Gospel, or Christ the Savior, or salvation through Christ, are revealed and presented by the Gospel alone, not by the law, whether commanding or promising. Therefore, the law has faith as its immediate and direct object among other duties and prescribed acts of man, and the Gospel, strictly speaking, has faith that is believed, or things to be believed, or the very truths of faith, or those credenda, which are the promises of the covenant of grace, or the Evangelical ones.
So what I am suggesting is that in order to answer the question regarding whether faith formally embraces Christ in his office of priest alone or in more respects, we can safely answer that while justifying faith formally embraces Christ in all 3 offices, it embraces these 3 offices only formally insofar as they are related to the Gospel strictly taken. In this way, in the act of justifying faith, we embrace Christ formally as a king who merited for us, and not formally as a king who demands obedience of us. And we embrace him as a prophet who reveals salvation to us, but not as a prophet who obligates belief from us. This solution avoids the issue Baxter fell into and also provides what, by my lights, is a necessary reformulation given that I see the right to life won by active obedience, and included as part of the form of justification, as more properly belonging to Christ’s office as king rather than that of priest. Therefore, while faith embraces all 3 offices, it does not embrace all 3 offices completely. This solution is also entirely consistent with the distinction Owen is trying to make when he explains that “we assign a respect unto the whole mediatory office of Christ, not excluding the kingly and prophetical parts thereof, but only such a notion of them as would not bring in more of Christ, but much of ourselves, into our justification,” although I have ultimately formulated the answer differently so that we need not say that justifying faith, in that act or work of it whereby we are justified, respects Christ in his priestly office alone, but can instead have it respect all offices, but with limitation.
3. What is sufficient grace and what is the point of it?
I’ve received this question a few times and so I thought it good to address in a post. I will start by answering the second question first and by doing so give an answer to the first question. And I will answer this question by recounting my own discovery of the matter.
In order to learn the nature of things, I often play certain games in my mind where I try to stretch something to its breaking point and to force it into absurdity in order that I may better understand it. This method has been very, very fruitful to me throughout my life as it has allowed me to understand the properties, natures, and causes of things in a deeper way than I am otherwise able to do. In fact, most of the posts you read on this site are simply the fruit of my labors in doing this.
Once I had come to the realization that original righteousness was to be distinguished from the donum superadditum as natural rectitude and supernatural grace and that upon this basis the theological virtues were not natural to man, but definitionally supernatural, their natural analogs being what is natural to man, I tried one of these mind games.
I imagined a scenario in which God created Adam in a state of pure nature, that is, with original righteousness and without the donum superadditum. Next I imagined that in this state, God commands Adam to believe in him with supernatural faith, love him with supernatural charity, etc. Finally, I imagined that despite this command, God decided not to grant Adam supernatural grace, which I supposed God was able to do even in spite of the command because I reasoned that grace is always given freely. Here, I perceived there was an issue, because God would be commanding something of Adam that was not morally, but naturally impossible to him (for this common distinction, see Charnock). In this scenario, I reasoned, Adam would not be morally deficient; he is in a state of perfect natural uprightness and righteousness. But without grace, he is simply unable to obey the command to perform a supernatural action. This, I saw, was quite unlike the usual problem with sinners: they are morally unable to obey that which they are naturally able to obey. But here there was not only a moral inability, but a natural inability. As Increase Mather says, “There must be a Supernatural light to direct the Soul into this way, 1 Cor. 2.14. The natural man receiveth not the things of God, neither can he know them. And after a man doth see this way, there must be a Supernatural work of the Spirit to cause him to venture on in it; yea, it is not only above nature, but against corrupt nature.” How then, I reasoned, could God command any man to believe (a supernatural action) and not give him the grace to do so?
I posed this scenario to a relatively knowledgeable Roman Catholic who rebuked me in such a way that I immediately understood the root of my error. God does not in fact command men to believe without giving him the grace to do so. In fact, every time that God commands man to perform a supernatural action, He also gives man supernatural grace to perform this action. This, I saw, was the only answer that could be given to preserve the justice of God and human responsibility in terms of the distinction between natural and moral ability. At the time, however, I had no name for what this grace was. I understood that it was an elevating grace given to all who received the Gospel and its commands. I only called it “resistible grace” since that was the terminology I was familiar with from the Puritans once I realized that this was exactly what they meant by the term. It was only after a very short conversation with Michael Lynch that things started to click for me. I had asked a question relating to this matter and he told me that Davenant held that everyone who hears and understands the Gospel, always receive illuminating grace. This led me to look more into this from Davenant and I was led to Gaetano’s chapter in Beyond Dordt which showed me how Davenant was drawing on Banez. After looking more into Banez, I finally put the right name on the grace I was referring to: sufficient grace.
One of the big realizations I had after discovering this and then re-reading the Reformed with this in mind, is that I had been assuming that the Reformed denied all internal workings of supernatural grace to the unregenerate. It is probably true that the vast majority of Reformed people today already assume this, and to be fair, there is some justification for this as not all theologians were equally clear on this (e.g. Le Blanc erroneously says that the Reformed hold only to sufficient grace in terms of outward means, but deny it in terms of inward supernatural grace). This assumption, I realized, was completely incorrect. Here are some rather clear instances of sufficient grace among the Reformed:
Matthew Poole on Hebrews 6:6:
"If they shall fall away; a falling away, or apostatizing, in proportion like Adam, such a παράπτωμα as his was, Rom. 5:15–17, whereby they are totally unchristianed, as he was turned into a sinner; perfidiously revolting from all those supernatural workings of the Holy Ghost, whereby their natural spirit was elevated, but not changed, unto their old swinish and canine temper of spirit and course of life that they led before they professed themselves Christians, as 2 Pet. 2:18–22. They
freely forsake their professed Christian state, and make shipwreck of all, Jude 4, 10, 16, 18, 19.
To renew them again unto repentance; they cannot renew and bring themselves to the same state they enjoyed, and from which they fell; nor can the Christian ministry do it by their exhortations or counsels, thunders or comforts; the offended, wronged Spirit withdraws, and will not assist or elevate theirs to act above nature again, Gen. 6:6; Isa. 63:10; but leaves them justly to themselves, so as he will neither by himself, nor by others, suffer it to be done, having limited his power by his will in it. They shall neither have a new principle infused into them, nor their minds or hearts changed by him to repentance, because they have undervalued his lower operations and motions on their souls, revealing Christ to them through the gospel, and have by their sinful negligence not improved them to seek from him the better and higher ones which he mentions, ver. 9, 10, and were to be effected by the exceeding greatness of his power."
Poole speaks here of a supernatural elevating grace whereby those who are yet unregenerate are made capable, by the power of the Holy Spirit, to perform supernatural actions. Their natures are “elevated,” but because they resist this grace, they are “not changed” and return to their previous course of life. The only thing I would disagree with in Poole here is his seeming denial of sufficient grace after it has been rejected. It seems to me rather that God continues to offer sufficient grace as long as the Gospel offer and its commands are understood, even though continually rejected; but I would not try to hold this point too tightly.
Here is Turretin:
Still we do not deny that in a certain sense the division [of sufficient and efficacious grace] can be admitted if a sufficiency, not absolute and simple is meant, but a relative sufficiency both with regard to external means and internal illumination for a knowledge of the truth and temporary faith (Heb. 10:26; Lk. 8:13) and for conviction and inexcusability (anapologian, Jn. 15:22). But for conversion, we recognize no sufficient grace which is not equally efficacious.
Importantly, Turretin says that sufficient grace applies not only to “external means,” contra Le Blanc and the majority assumption of today, but also to “internal illumination for a knowledge of the truth and temporary faith.” Furthermore, Turretin even specifies the purpose of sufficient grace in the first place. It is “for conviction and inexcusability.’ The second point is what is relevant to the thought experiment I cooked up. Sufficient grace comes in so that man may be held accountable for not responding to the demands of the Gospel, which while being above his natural abilities, are made possible to man’s powers by virtue of it.
For another clear example of inward, supernatural, sufficient grace, see the section on the Synopsis of Purer Theology at the previous link.
Sufficient grace is a type of prevenient grace, being grace given prior to human action, that enables a person to be able to perform supernatural actions, not however, infallibly giving the effect. Sufficient grace gives the ability to act, yet not the act itself. It should be remembered that such a distinction even still applies to the lives of Christians. Here is a section from John Owen's Mortification of Sin that makes this point:
As there are three sorts of lives, we say, — the vegetative, the sensitive, and the rational or intelligent, — some things have only the vegetative; some the sensitive also, and that includes the former; some have the rational, which takes in and supposes both the other. Now, he that hath the rational doth not only act suitably to that principle, but also to both the others, — he grows and is sensible. It is so with men in the things of God. Some are mere natural and rational men; some have a superadded conviction with illumination; and some are truly regenerate. Now, he that hath the latter hath also both the former; and therefore he acts sometimes upon the principles of the rational, sometimes upon the principles of the enlightened man. His true spiritual life is not the principle of all his motions; he acts not always in the strength thereof, neither are all his fruits from that root. In this case that I speak of, he acts merely upon the principle of conviction and illumination, whereby his first naturals are heightened; but the Spirit breathes not at all upon all these waters.
4. What exactly is the “principle of spiritual life in a natural mode” that you often speak of?
I’ve been asked this question a few times. I have been hesitant to give a definitive answer to it as I am still working through it in my own mind. But I will speak on this as much as I am able to here in case it is helpful to somebody.
In my Propositions on Nature and Grace Drawn from Franciscus Junius, I briefly mentioned that I think that the natural analog of faith either is prudence or at least is very similar/closely related to it (a). Following men like Peter Martyr Vermigli and Bartholomew Keckermann, I tend to think of faith as supernatural prudence. Since faith is the principle of supernatural spiritual life in us, when I look for the principle of natural spiritual life, it seems natural for me to attribute this to prudence. In fact, I think this aligns very nicely with what Thomas Aquinas is talking about when he talks about how unbelievers lack prudence in that they don’t refer everything to God as the final end in their lives. That is all I will say for now. Regardless, whatever this principle of natural spiritual life is, it is that principle out of which we refer all of our acts to the glory God, which is necessary for a morally whole act. Adam in a state of pure nature possessed this spiritual life in a natural mode, that is to say, he was able to refer all of his acts to God's glory even though he lacked supernatural grace. Thus although Adam had no supernatural grace and no possession of the Holy Spirit while he existed in a state of pure nature, he was not therefore spiritually dead and unable to please God. Fallen men completely lack this principle of spiritual life. Believers have spiritual life restored to them in a supernatural mode through the grace of the Holy Spirit such that we are now able to refer all of our actions to God's glory through supernatural faith. I am drawing very heavily on this statement from Junius here.
(a) I think that there is even a certain level of support for this in Romans 14:23 when Paul says that “whatever is not of faith is sin.” Certainly, he does not mean that “whatever is not of a supernatural habit assenting to propositions of divine revelation is sin,” but rather whatever is done with a practical doubt is sin which is in some way a privation of prudence.
5. Does man have a natural desire for the beatific vision?
We must distinguish between an innate natural desire and an elicited natural desire. The difference between the two an easily be gathered from here: https://afkimel.wordpress.com/2022/03/28/the-natural-desire-to-see-god/ and here: https://www.academia.edu/6570466/Lawrence_Feingold_on_the_Natural_Desire_to_See_God and those who want to read more should check out Feingold's The Natural Desire to See God, which I have repeatedly recommended. To explain the difference between the two, an innate natural desire may be thought of as equivalent to the intrinsic end of a given nature. The first link says it is:
"The natural appetite placed by God in things without knowledge has come to be referred to as innate appetite or natural inclination. It flows from the very essence of a thing in a constant, immutable, and unconscious way, and inclines each thing to its proper and proportionate end. Innate appetite or inclination is common to all beings, each of which is inclined to its end, whatever it may be."
An elicited desire, on the other hand,
"is a particular conscious movement of the will or sense appetite attracted by some object known either by the senses or the intellect. If it is an object pleasing to the senses, there will follow a movement of the sense appetite; if the object is grasped as good by the intellect, there will follow a movement of the rational appetite, which is the will. Here we are interested only in the will. The desire is said to be “elicited” in that it is “drawn out,” as it were, by the desirability of the known object. All the conscious movements of our sensitive appetites and our will are said to be elicited and not innate."
For our purposes, what is relevant here is a movement of the will.
The natural desire that man possesses for the beatific vision must be elicited, and not innate. This is contrary to De Lubac, Cornelius Jansen, Michael Baius, and Duns Scotus. The first three's position on this is well known and so I will not cite a source on this. Scotus concedes that "man naturally desires the end which you say is supernatural; therefore, he is naturally ordered to that end; therefore from such ordering can that end can be concluded as from knowledge of the nature ordered to it" and affirms that "God is the natural end of man, but as not to be attained naturally but supernaturally." One can see how Scotus anticipates those who would come after him.
For proof of this thesis, I have effectively already given this in especially my first and sixth reviews of Harrison Perkins. This effectively boils down to a failure to understand the principle of proportionate causality, the way that ends work, and a failure to consider the category of obediential potency.
An elicited natural desire for the beatific vision occurs when man, understanding the first cause through its effects, reasons that, if it were possible, it would be desirable to have an immediate intellectual sight of the first cause. Importantly, this desire is conditional. Man cannot know, apart from divine revelation, that the beatific vision is in fact possible. Nor would this desire leave man unfulfilled if he were in a state of pure nature precisely because of the conditional nature of the desire. Man can achieve natural beatitiude apart from grace as this desire remains nothing more than a conditional wish for that of which he has no knowledge of its possibility. We can see this elicited natural desire, and even its conditional nature, exhibited in Plato in the Convivium when he says:
What if man had eyes to see the true beauty—the divine beauty, I mean, pure and clear and unalloyed, not clogged with the pollutions of mortality and all the colours and vanities of human life—thither looking, and holding converse with the true beauty simple and divine? Remember how in that communion only, beholding beauty with the eye of the mind, he will be enabled to bring forth, not images of beauty, but realities (for he has hold not of an image but of a reality), and bringing forth and nourishing true virtue to become the friend of God and be immortal, if mortal man may. Would that be an ignoble life?
Andreas Beck in his otherwise excellent book on Voetius, attempts to tie Voetius to De Lubac's theory under the section he has titled "Voetius and the 'Two-Level Theory.'" "Two-Level Theory" is referring to the same thesis that I have been putting forth, together with Feingold, reagrding the distinction between the natural and supernatural orders. Beck thinks that Voetius rejects this theory, associated with "medieval scholasticism" in favor of the "Augustinian theory," which again, is susbtantially De Lubac's position. Much can be said about this section that stands in need of corrction (his historical work for dividing things this way relies, unsurprisingly, entirely on De Lubac), but I wish to comment on only two points here. In footnote 36, when Voetius denies that man was created in a state of pure nature, I take this to mean either 1) Voetius is denying that man was, in point of fact, created in a state of pure nature (i.e. he is affirming man received grace in the first moment of his creation); yet he does not deny its possibility. Or, more likely, 2) Voetius is denying "pure nature" in the Roman sense of it in which natural rectitude is not included. Furthermore, Beck's comment that even those who advocated for pure nature only did so as "a hypothetical possibility" is clearly untrue as I have documented at length in my reviews of Perkins. See for instance Junius or Scotus or Bonaventure.
But more importantly for this question is Beck's comments in footnote 37. Voetius here asks: "Whether man has a natural, innate appetite for beatitude or the beatific vision? Denied with a distinction." Since Beck is assuming that Voetius is setting forth substantially the same view as De Lubac, he says that "the distinction seems to be decisive here and probably refers to the meaning of the term 'naturalis': If the term refers to the Baroque scholastic understanding of nature springing from the 'two-level theory,' the question has to be answered in the negative. Not so, however, if the term derives its meaning from the medieval Augustinian tradition."
Of course, since I completely reject the framing of this historiography in the first place, I wish to offer what I take to be a much more natural reading of Voetius. Here, he specifcally denies an innate natural appetite/desire for the beatific vision, but does so "with a distinction" in order to affirm a natural, elicited desire for the beatific vision. Voetius is here siding with the Thomists. In this light, Voetius's words in footnote 38, in which he evidences that he is aware of Scotus's view that the beatific vision is formally man's natural end, should be taken to mean that Voetius rejects this position, although I grant to Beck that this is not entirely clear from his words at this point.
Futermore, it is very unlikely that Voetius in particular thought that men could have an innate natural desire for the beatifdic vision. The reason for this is because Voetius rejects the beatific vision according to essence, holding rather that it will be by an efflugence of God's glory, and therefore by a creature freely created by Him. Now, although in any case it is beyond my power to conceieve how someone could hold there to be an innate natural desire for the supernatural, in the case of Beck's Voetius, it is doubly so, as men would then have an innate natural desire for a creature of the supernatural order that possesses an entirely contingent existence.
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