The word of God and the Bible

In my post from last year, I claimed that the Reformation doctrine of sola scriptura, which forms the epistemological basis for all of Protestant thought, does not have a scriptural basis. I concluded that it is contradictory to its own standard, and therefore must be false. The claim that the Bible does not support sola scriptura will seem a foreign, if not hostile, thought to many who like me were raised in Evangelical Christianity, and so I would like to elaborate and substantiate my claim here.

If we look for the doctrine of sola scriptura in the Bible, it is quickly apparent that nothing close to an explicit declaration of such an idea exists anywhere within it. Rather most attempts to establish biblical precedent for the doctrine do so by equating it with the word of God; indeed, in my own Protestant mind the Bible and the word of God were pure synonyms. This works to justify sola scriptura because the Bible establishes the word of God in various places and in various ways as the authoritative impetus that brought the Church into being, which also continually defines and sustains it; thus, a strong case can be made that it is appropriate to attribute to the word of God alone the position of prime authority in matters of doctrine. Therefore, if the word of God could be understood to refer specifically and exclusively to the Bible, then sola scriptura could be established. However, despite the widespread assumption among Protestants that the scriptural references to “the word of God” refer precisely to the Bible, it is impossible to draw the equivalency.

1) The Bible never calls any book of the New Testament “the word of God.”

It is true that there are many places in the Old Testament where the phrase “the word of God” refers to the Old Testament scriptures, and two places in the New Testament as well: Jesus refers to the Ten Commandments as “the word of God” in Matthew 15:6 (with its parallel in Mark) and uses the phrase again in John 10:35 in reference to a Psalm. However, it is not enough to establish the Old Testament as the word of God: the Christian claims the New Testament as well, and it cannot be argued that the New Testament asserts itself to be the word of God simply because it accepts the Old Testament as the word of God. So, does the Bible establish the books of the New Testament as the word of God? According to my research of the Bible, there is no place therein where the phrase “the word of God” is used to refer to any written document that would later become canonized in the New Testament.

2) The Bible never even implies that most of the New Testament, including the Gospels, are “the word of God.”

Despite the fact above, we can call the New Testament scriptures “the word of God” if we can only establish them as scripture, because 2 Timothy 3:16 says that all scripture is breathed out by God. Very well, but in only one case does the New Testament confer scriptural status to any part of itself (2 Peter 3:16), and then only the writings of Paul are affirmed, leaving the Four Gospels (the core of the Bible!), Acts, Hebrews, James, 1-2 Peter, 1-3 John, Jude, and Revelation without any Biblical affirmation of their status as scripture, and therefore, without even being able to be inferred as the “word of God.” It cannot be argued that, simply because Peter acknowledged Paul’s writings as scripture, he must have also meant those of James, Jude, and the rest.

3) New Testament references to the “word of God” are almost always to things apart from its own contents.

Instead, what we find throughout the New Testament is that the phrase “the word of God” almost exclusively refers to the Gospel, without any indication of its medium, and that where clues are given as to whether the phrase refers to something spoken or written, they point exclusively to something spoken. The phrase is used to refer to the prophecies of John the Baptist, to the oral teachings of Christ (at Gennesaret, for example), to the message of the apostles at Pentecost, to the message carried by Paul’s evangelistic journeys and delivered to Timothy, etc. In all of these passages, the words that constituted “the word” are not recorded. (For example, we don’t know exactly what words Timothy learned as a child.) It is important to realize that when the authors of the New Testament writings refer to “the word of God” in these passages, they are not referring to their own writings, nor the writings of any contemporary New Testament authors, nor explicitly including in their writings the word of God to which they refer. Rather, they are referring to something outside the texts, something that they expected their audience to know.

Thus, even having accepted that the word of God is the supreme authority in the life of the church, we see that the Bible does not include all of itself in the phrase, and includes other things apart from itself. Therefore, we cannot draw the equivalence from the supreme authority of the word of God to the supreme authority of the Bible. The only legitimate hermeneutical path to biblically justify the concept of sola scriptura fails. It is ironic that the Protestant, in embracing sola scriptura, must doubt whether the Bible is the word of God, while the Catholic, embracing the Bible as the word of God on the testimony of the Magisterium and Tradition of the Church, can justify the belief, and rightly say when the Scriptures are read, “The Word of the Lord, thanks be to God.”

Answers to Protestant claims: A response to James White

James White writes his book Answers to Catholic Claims: A Discussion on Biblical Authority to answer the Catholic who asks, essentially, “We have Tradition as the authority on which we establish and interpret the Bible. Since you reject Tradition as a source of revelation, by what authority do you establish and interpret the Bible?” I read this book in hopes of discovering an answer to what I perceive to be a simply irrefutable train of logic that undermines our ability to reasonably believe that the Bible is trustworthy without recourse to the authority of the Church. White’s response follows the general Protestant rhetoric for affirming the truth of the Bible that I discuss in some of my previous posts, and also adds the claim that Catholic Tradition is anti-biblical. Unfortunately, I believe White fails resoundingly at mounting a cogent argument either for the Bible apart from Tradition or against Tradition from the Bible. I will rehearse and refute his reasoning here with the hope that my Protestant friends and readers will try to come up with some better reasons for trusting the Bible and distrusting the Church (and if you find them, come and tell me also!), or, if they cannot, accept the inevitability that they must believe in both or neither.

PART 1: Reasons to accept the Bible apart from Tradition

What are the alternative bases of authority on which to accept the Bible apart from Tradition? White posits the only alternative that is acceptable to a Protestant: the Bible itself. He attempts to establish the Bible’s own authority on the issue of the reliability of the Bible through several arguments. (1) The Bible witnesses to its own authority, and (2) The Bible’s authority is obvious and self-evident.

(1) The Bible witnesses to its own authority

This is neither scriptural, nor historical, nor logical. White first tries the scriptural approach. He cites 2 Peter 3:16, in which Peter refers to Paul’s writings as scripture. He also mentions a quote in 1 Timothy 5:18 which is sometimes put forward as evidence that Paul ascribes scriptural status to the words of Jesus in Luke, but admits, admirably, that the passage can only be supposed to ascribe to Luke the status of scripture tentatively, at best. Then, on the basis of these two (really one) passages, he says:

“Though these are but a few passages, they give the impression that the writers themselves, though not frequently asserting Scriptural status for their own writings (many of Paul’s commands to the churches partake of an authoritative tone of equal severity to that of Old Testament prophets), did indeed understand that God was about “adding” this new chapter to His revelation of old. This understanding will provide the foundation upon which the later Fathers will build.”

How is the impression that the writers of the New Testament understood that God was adding a new body of scripture to the Old Testament evidence of which scriptures would be a part of it? White uses vague language here as if to conclude that 2 Peter 3:16 enumerates a canon. Is White unaware that other authors than Paul contributed to the New Testament? Which scripture does he put forth to establish the canonicity of 2 Peter, which he uses to canonize Paul (ironically, 2 Peter is one of the most contested and late-canonized books)? Or for that matter, where are any of the four Gospels, the bedrock of the New Testament, declared scripture? Or Hebrews, James, Jude, Revelation, or Acts? Is his proof for these books that Paul uses an “authoritative tone” in his epistles? I do not think anyone would disagree with me that this is preposterous. Ultimately the failure of this argument is not White’s fault; I have researched the scriptures on this topic and can affirm that he has produced all of the scriptures that establish any sort of scriptural status for the writings of the New Testament. The evidence simply isn’t there! We must look to the Church.

White seems to recognize the necessity of dealing with the historical canonization process that occurred within the Church during the first 4 centuries of Christianity. In fact, he gives a good review of the evolving concept of the canon among the Church Fathers leading up to the Council of Nicea, summarizing in conclusion that, “though some books were less widely accepted than others, the vast majority of the material that comprises the 27 books was already in place and functioning as canon Scripture.” So far so good. Unfortunately, he then reverts to his presupposition and blunders, “Long before any ‘church council’ made any decisions about a ‘canon’ of Scripture, the Scriptures themselves were functioning with full and complete authority in matters of doctrine.” If the canon was not completely formed until the Council of Nicea, how could it have been functioning with “full and complete authority” before that? Surely it could not be functioning fully before it was formed fully? By White’s own concept of scripture, its limits, as well as its contents, are holy. Not noticing this inconsistency, White marches onward and denies the role of the Church Fathers’ own authority in the formation of the canon: “There is no discussion [by the early Fathers] of the Church having some kind of ability to ‘create canonical authority.’ Rather, the Fathers attempt to base their arguments upon those very Scriptures, showing clearly their recognition of the inherent (not contingent or transferred) authority of those writings.” White is flatly wrong here! For the sake of brevity permit me to select just one Father, but one whose endorsement both Catholics and Protestants covet: Augustine of Hippo. That great doctor of the church says that the authority of the books of the Bible is confirmed to us by the consensus of the Church.

“The excellence of the canonical authority of the Old and New Testaments is distinct from the books of later writers. This authority was confirmed in the times of the Apostles through the succession of bishops and the propagation of churches, as if it was settled in a heavenly manner in a kind of seat to which every believing and pious mind lives in obedience. (Against Faustus, 11.5)

Elsewhere he says, “I would not believe in the Gospel myself if the authority of the Catholic Church did not influence me to do so.” For a larger discussion of Augustine’s acceptance of Tradition, see this article by Dr. Kenneth Howell. Augustine echoes the consistent expressions of the early Church Fathers on the factors by which they affirmed the authority of the canonical books—they were in accord with the orthodox message of the Gospel preserved through the Church lineage, and were attested by the precedent  of their use and acceptance in the early Church. What is unprecedented is White’s claim that their authority was simply “inherent.” 

(2) The Bible’s authority is obvious and self-evident

White produces another reason by which we can know that the Bible is authentic: it’s obvious! He quotes John Calvin:

“It as if someone asked: Whence will we learn to distinguish light from darkness, white from black, sweet from bitter? Indeed, Scripture exhibits fully as clear evidence of its own truth as white and black things do of their color, or sweet and bitter things do of their taste.”

I deal with this quote at length in this post in response to John Piper’s book A Peculiar Glory, but suffice it to say that this is obviously a subjective basis. White is uncomfortable with that, though, and disclaims, “Anyone who reads chapters 6-9 in Book 1 of Calvin’s Institutes will see that he does not assert a “subjective” basis for the canon of Scripture, but bases its authority upon the author of the words, the Holy Spirit of God.” However, the appeal to the Holy Spirit–a key move in the Protestant rhetoric–remains subjective! I think it was when I realized this that I saw what deep kimchi we Protestants were in. For if we ask Calvin how a man can be sure that the scriptures are true, and he replies, “The Holy Spirit affirms the scriptures to a man,” then we need to ask one more question, “How can a man be sure that the Holy Spirit has confirmed such to him?” Calvin’s reply can only be that he can approve of an impression in his mind by virtue of the fact that it aligns with scripture. This is begging the question, a logical loop. It should produce in the thinking Christian’s mind a large blinking red alert that he has erred fundamentally in his thinking. 

Calvin does not seem to be aware of, or at least not concerned about, the danger of this loop; he does not expect anyone to challenge the obviousness of the truth of the Scriptures, saying, “While the Church receives and gives its seal of approval to the Scriptures, it does not thereby render authentic what is otherwise doubtful or controversial.” But Calvin did not see the great storm of historical criticism and all the modern heresies that would assay knights of scholarship and legions of opinions to tear the Bible apart with doubt and controversy in the centuries that followed. This is not the place to get into it, but I have suspected that the Reformers themselves, in the great schism that shook the western Church, unwittingly unlocked the doors that would unleash the hordes of the enlightenment to terrorize Christianity. It is these opponents of Christianity, intellectually raping and pillaging those Christians who live today in the defenseless fields of a supposed consensus, that have driven me back into the fortress of the Church. It is from there alone we can mount a counter-attack.

Perhaps perturbed by the idea of being caught red-handed in a logical loop, White blames Catholics for making the same error. Citing Karl Keating, he references the Catholic teaching on how we can know that the Bible is infallible:

  • The Bible can be reasonably be trusted to be historically accurate for external reasons.
  • The Bible claims that the Church will be infallible.
  • This infallible Church claims that the Bible is inspired and inerrant.

White claims that this is circular. He doesn’t explain exactly how, but we can presume he means in a pattern that goes something like: “How do we know the Bible is inspired?”→ “Because the Church says so.”→ “How do we know the Church is right?”→ “Because the Bible says so.” However, this does not accurately represent the Church’s stance; rather it shows that if Catholics believed in sola scriptura it would be circular; but Catholics do not. The Catholic Church claims to be right on the basis of apostolic succession, a historical phenomenon whose reliability is independent of the text of the Bible.  If apostolic succession means a historical chain of witnesses leading all the way back to Jesus, then it’s not circular, but linear. You can attack the links in the chain but you can’t call it circular.

White also says that the Catholic church is circular in its claims to have authority of interpretation:

“Once a group determines that any interpretation that is not in harmony with its own teachings is automatically to be dismissed, on what basis can anyone every say, “you’ve made an error”? There is no way of self-correction left when the one source that could demonstrate the error of the Roman Church’s teachings is placed in absolute submission to the interpretive decisions of the Roman curia” (Loc 618).

This is a straw-man of the Catholic teaching; in reality, the magisterium of the Catholic Church bases its interpretations on the precedent of the Church’s historical tradition, and especially the Scriptures themselves. Yes, contrary to White’s assumption, the decisions of the magisterium are carefully weighed against scripture. Look at any Catholic decree and you will find numerous references to both Church Fathers and to Scripture. The magisterium does not make its decisions independently or capriciously. In the end, despite White’s tu quoque, it is only the Protestant who is left begging the question.

To sum up Part 1, the Protestant appeal to the Bible as the authority upon which to ratify the authority of the Bible is not found in the Bible or the early Church, and it’s a logical error to boot. White fails in his attempt to establish any objective means by which, having rejected Tradition, we can affirm the Bible. I do not think it is his fault—none exist. If we are to affirm the Bible, and if we are discontented with subjective means of doing so that fall apart under the scrutiny of modern questions, then our only recourse is to the Sacred Tradition of the Church.

PART 2: Whether Catholic Tradition and the Bible contradict each other

In addition to attempting to establish an independent basis for the Bible, White’s treatise aims to show that the teachings of the Catholic Church contradict the Bible. White is right that the Church should still be in line with the Bible; God does not contradict himself. Therefore, let us enter into a discussion as fellow Bible-believing Christians to consider this accusation.

At the outset we must make an important distinction between what is unbiblical and what is anti-biblical. Something that is unbiblical is not in the Bible (neither explicitly nor as a clear and logical consequence), but is not contradictory to it; whereas something anti-biblical is both unbiblical and contradictory to the Bible. Examples of merely unbiblical teachings, courtesy of Mark Shea‘s book By What Authority?, include the traditional Christian prohibitions of male polygamy and abortion. These prohibitions are not in the Bible, thus unbiblical, but neither are they contradictory to it (not anti-biblical), since the Bible certainly does not endorse male polygamy or abortion. An example of something anti-biblical would be, say, a belief that God has allowed the Body of Christ to stray fundamentally into error, since this is contrary to the promises of God made in Scripture. 

Now, the question is, is Catholic Tradition not just unbiblical, but anti-biblical? White says several times that it is anti-biblical: “Many doctrinal formulations that Rome claims ‘developed’ over time, that Protestants point out are not only non-Biblical but downright anti-Biblical, came about as…a process of slowly departing from Christian doctrine,” and “The doctrines that Rome teaches that are supposedly based upon these ancient traditions…are themselves often contradictory to the teachings of the Lord and His Apostles contained in the New Testament.” Is he right?

No. White has made a crucial error in common with many Protestants: he has mistaken unbiblical for anti-biblical, on the basis of the presupposition that anything that is unbiblical is anti-biblical; that is, he assumes sola scriptura. His accusation is that, since Catholic Tradition exceeds what is clear from scripture, it therefore contradicts scripture, because scripture forbids anything to exceed itIf we begin with this presupposition, we will be able to fairly easily repudiate numerous Catholic traditions and Tradition itself. However, if we do not begin with this presupposition, I assert that we will not be able to repudiate any Catholic tradition. So let us ask, is sola scriptura itself taught in scripture? Does the Bible exclude Tradition as a source of revelation, asserting its exclusivity as the word of God? White says yes. Let’s look at his arguments.

White’s main argument is that the infallibility and inerrancy of scripture implies its exclusivity of authority. Throughout the book, he firmly establishes that the Bible is infallible and inerrant and God-breathed (as if Catholics disagree with this, which they do not). He then somehow concludes that the Bible is sufficient alone. It is very hard to find any attempt at a coherent logical connection to this effect; the best I can find is: “If God is consistent, then His revelation will be without contradiction; it will speak with one voice, present one truth. Hence, if the Bible is His Word, then the Bible will be sufficient in and of itself for the determination of all those doctrines and truths addressed within its pages” (Loc 582). It seems that he is saying that, since God’s word must be without contradiction and in harmony, it must therefore be from one source. But this is nonsense—certainly my wife and I hold many consistent opinions and are in harmony on various issues, though we are two people.

Another tack by which White denounces Tradition is an Argument from Silence. (This type of reasoning, common in historical studies, is basically that if the author had known about or believed something, he would have mentioned it, and that, since he is silent, we can conclude he didn’t know or believe it.) Now, Argument from Silence is sometimes fallacious, though it is not necessarily so; it is sometimes a reasonable method of making soft conclusions. For example, if I read all of my grandfather’s letters to my grandmother during his deployment in World War II, and he never mentions engaging in active combat, I can surmise that there is a likelihood he did not do so, since it is not unreasonable to suppose that at some point during his whole deployment, he would have made at least some reference to combat (combat being pretty worth mentioning to most soldiers). However, I cannot definitively conclude that he never engaged in active combat unless I know enough to rule out other factors that could have affected his silence, such as whether he was trying to protect my grandmother from fear, or whether he was protecting classified information. Nevertheless, some sort of theory can be established from an Argument from Silence. The Argument from Silence becomes fallacious, however, when it attempts to make hard claims that a particular text would have mentioned something, or, having mentioned it obliquely, would have defined it more clearly or explicitly. This is to assume a vast knowledge of the historical, contextual, and personal factors that influenced the author in writing that text, and often assumes they align with the arguer’s current agenda. For example, imagine that I, being of a pacifist heritage, am attempting to show that my grandfather did not engage in active combat in World War II, and I produce a letter in which he mentions landing at Normandy in June 1944. I cannot claim from this that he would have mentioned engaging in combat in that letter if he had engaged in combat at all, since Normandy was, as we all know, one of the most important assaults, and that since he didn’t mention it here, he probably didn’t fight at all. Neither can I say that he only said he “landed” in Normandy, and he would have surely clarified that this was during combat if he had wanted us to know he had been in combat. This kind of Argument from Silence doesn’t prove anything, and erroneously shifts the burden of proof away from the person making the claim.

Well, the scriptures are not silent on tradition, and do not permit a valid form of Argument from Silence; White’s arguments, instead, are of the fallacious kind that attempts to decipher too much meaning out of what particular passages don’t say. Let’s look at several of the major often-discussed verses and what White says about them. First, 2 Timothy 3:14-17:

But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it and how from childhood you have been acquainted with the sacred writings, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work. 

White commentates, “Roman Catholics might think this refers to ‘sacred tradition’ that would exist side-by-side with, but contain other ‘revelation’ than, the Holy Scriptures. But this is not borne out by the text, for the message he has received in the Gospel is to be found in the Sacred Scriptures themselves.” How do we know this? White answers with a rhetorical question: “Is there even a hint in Paul’s words that to be ‘thoroughly equipped for every good work’ one needs ‘sacred tradition’?”

Well, the answer to his question is yes. When we are talking about Sacred Tradition, we are talking about what Timothy “had learned and firmly believed” of which “the sacred scriptures” which he had been acquainted with since childhood were a subset or companion. White seems to be implying an argument from silence, as if he expects further elaboration from the author because “it surely would have been specified more clearly.” Or perhaps White means that since Paul only said here that the scriptures were profitable for training in righteousness, he implies that oral teachings he mentioned are not, which is again fallacious argument from silence. Let’s consider another verse, 1 Thessalonians 2:13:

And we also thank God constantly for this, that when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men but as what it really is, the word of God, which is at work in you believers.

This indicates that the word of God was an oral tradition delivered to the Thessalonians before the epistle was sent. White challenges:

“There is absolutely no indication whatsoever that there is any difference in content between the message preached to the Thessalonians and the one contained in the written epistle. The Roman Catholic Church has no basis in this passage at all to assert that the content of these ‘traditions’ differs in the slightest from what is contained in the New Testament.”

This is fallaciously shifting the burden of proof! If White claims their content was the same, he should prove that it was so, not argue from the silence of the text that it surely must have been so, and challenge anyone to prove that it wasn’t. Let’s look at one more verse, 2 Timothy 2:2:

And what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also.

While a surface reading of this text clearly implies an oral tradition, White says:

“Now are we to believe that what Paul taught in the presence of many witnesses is different than what is contained in the pages of the New Testament? Are we to believe that the content of this teaching differed from what Paul wrote to the Romans, Galatians, or Ephesians?…Why should we limit what Timothy is to pass on to only those things that are not contained in the Bible?”

No one is limiting it to things not found in the Bible, but on what basis does White suppose that it is limited to things found in the Bible? It is again a shifted burden of proof supported only by White’s indignant incredulity.

Here are some more examples of the pervasiveness of this fallacy in White’s book, one regarding Jesus and one regarding the early Church in Acts:

“Jesus gave absolutely no indication that His acceptance of the sacred writings was based upon the testimony of an “infallible church” that told Him to believe in them. They were to be believed simply because they were the words of God.”

“There is nothing in the fact that the early believers in Jerusalem devoted themselves to the Apostles’ teaching that indicates that this teaching to which they devoted themselves is other than what we have in the New Testament! Is there anything that would suggest that what the Apostles taught was different than what they taught believers later by epistle? Do we not have accounts of the early sermons in the book of Acts that tell us what the Apostles were teaching then? Do we find the Apostles saying ‘what we tell you now we will pass down only by mouth as a separate mode of revelation known as tradition, and later we will write down some other stuff that will become sacred Scripture’?”

Although no evidence is needed against such poor reasoning, the Catholic Church does incidentally have evidence that these traditions are not merely synonymous with the content of the scriptures. Basil the Great, a contemporary of Augustine and revered leader of the Church, says that the early Church by the time of the canonization of Scripture clearly understood that there was more to the deposit of faith than the Scriptures. Here is the larger passage, but this excerpt will drive the point home:

Of the beliefs and practices whether generally accepted or publicly enjoined which are preserved in the Church some we possess derived from written teaching; others we have received delivered to us in a mystery by the tradition of the apostles; and both of these in relation to true religion have the same force. And these no one will gainsay—no one, at all events, who is even moderately versed in the institutions of the Church. For were we to attempt to reject such customs as have no written authority, on the ground that the importance they possess is small, we should unintentionally injure the Gospel in its very vitals.

The danger of White’s argumentation from silence climaxes when he says, “The Gospel is defined in Scripture, not in oral traditions, and when a person’s speaking is no longer based upon what is written in Scripture, his authority is gone.” By White’s reasoning, the Gospel that Paul delivered to the Thessalonians and to Timothy orally, prior to their receiving any of the New Testament writings, had no authority (even though Paul appeals to such authority in Scripture!). White would probably dodge this by saying that the Gospel was based on the Old Testament, but this does no good, since White says that the Gospel is not only “based on” but “defined in” written Scripture; that is, unless one wants to say that the Gospel that Paul and the apostles spread was defined within the writings of the Old Testament, which is not merely an obvious falsehood, but in opposition to the very idea of the New Covenant founded on the blood of Jesus Christ, the fullness of Revelation who came to fulfill the law and the prophets. Instead of such nonsense we should agree with the Bible that The Old Testament served as a witness to the Gospel of the apostles, and that this Gospel was an oral tradition before it was written. Thus we realize that the Catholic idea of Tradition is not unbiblical, and we can conclude from this that sola scriptura is anti-biblical!

As a final aside that I cannot help but mention, I think it should be red flag to all serious-minded Christians that White presumes to oppose early Church fathers including Irenaeus, Tertullian and Origen. He says, “Rather than directing people solely to the Scriptures, some of these early Fathers made the grave error of seeking a source of authority outside of the completed revelation of God,” and “As noted above, many of these early Fathers did not have access to information (linguistic and historical) that we do today.” It is a grave error to oppose historic Christianity based on unfounded and unbiblical presuppositions, and to presume that the nature of the faith once for all delivered to the saints is contained in linguistic and historical scholarship, more than in the living Body of Christ on the earth, in which such Fathers were foremost, being the vessels through which God chose to protect and deliver to us both the Bible and the whole sacred heritage of our faith in Christ.

We have gone through White’s arguments and, with all due respect, found nothing but straw. My conclusion is simply to ask if any of my Protestant brethren have anything better to offer, and if they do not, ask them whether they are really willing to “test everything and hold onto the good.” It was a pivotal moment for me when I realized with dawning wonder and no lack of irony that sola scriptura was unbiblical, while a developing, living tradition among the people of God was biblical, and that, if I was going to hold on to my faith in Christianity and my trust in the Bible at all, I had to relinquish the sort of Christianity I had always assumed, and the iron clamps by which I had resisted anything besides the Bible, and step with Abrahamic faith into a larger world of Christianity.

The Bible’s sure foundation: A response to John Piper’s ‘A Peculiar Glory’

Dr. John Piper’s new book A Peculiar Glory (available for free PDF download) sets out to provide a basis for a sure knowledgefull_a-peculiar-glory that the Bible is true, one that can be known without scholarship. He says that while he has spent much of his life dealing with the historical and textual/linguistic evidences for establishing the truth and trustworthiness of the Bible, he has realized that these evidences do not provide certainty to the lay person who cannot understand them, nor devote his life to the study of Greek and Hebrew and the history of eastern antiquity, etc. He feels that such certainty should and must be available to the common Christian, and indeed it must.

As the means of getting this certainty about the Bible, Piper points to the evidence of Christ’s glory within it. He quotes heavily from Jonathan Edwards, who explains it this way:

“The mind ascends to the truth of the gospel but by one step, and that is its divine glory…. Unless men may come to a reasonable solid persuasion and conviction of the truth of the gospel, by the internal evidences of it, in the way that has been spoken, viz. by a sight of its glory; ’tis impossible that those who are illiterate, and unacquainted with history, should have any thorough and effectual conviction of it at all. (qtd. p. 138)

It is my aim in this essay to demonstrate that the peculiar glory of the gospel of Christ in the Bible is not in itself a sufficient means of knowing the trueness of the Bible, but to propose another means that can provide assurance without scholarship.

To begin, I address an assertion that Piper seems to make about ascertaining the truth of scripture through the glory of the gospel, namely that it is objective. He says, “It is crucial to emphasize here that this glory of Christ in the gospel is an objective reality. The glory is in Christ and in the gospel. It is not in us. It is not subjective, but objective” (p. 141). I respectfully point out that Piper has confused the glory of Christ in the gospel (which entails no knowledge on our part) with the perception of the glory of Christ in the gospel, which is the means by which we can know the glory of God. It is vital to see that the epistemological instrument Piper is seeking is in fact a mental or spiritual illumination, as evinced by Edwards’, John Calvin’s, and his own descriptions of the nature of this proof-by-glory. According to Piper, “Well-grounded faith is not only reasonable faith (based on real evidence and good grounds), but also spiritual faith, that is, it is enabled by the Holy Spirit and mediated through spiritual perception of divine glory in the truth of the gospel” (emphasis mine). In Edwards’ words above, it is not God’s glory per se but “a sight of [the gospel’s] glory” that convinces the believer. Calvin speaks in a crucial quote from Chapter 11:

“How can we be assured that this has sprung from God unless we have recourse to the decree of the church? It is as if someone asked: Whence will we learn to distinguish light from darkness, white from black, sweet from bitter? Indeed, Scripture exhibits fully as clear evidence of its own truth as white and black things do of their color, or sweet and bitter things do of their taste.” (Institutes, I, vvii, 2)6

Thus, according to Calvin, the assurance of the truth of the Bible is a sensation, like taste or sight. Now, the word “objective” means belonging to the object of thought rather than the thinking subject, and “subjective” means belonging to the thinking subject rather than the object of thought. The glory of God may be objective, but the “spiritual perception of divine glory”, the great dawning of this glory in the mind of the believer, the sight of the glory which confirms the truth of the Bible to us, the taste of its sweetness, is what we are talking about. And the apprehension of beauty or glory is an inherently subjective phenomenon. Calling a believer’s comprehension of the peculiar glory of God objective is like calling the beauty of my one-month-old daughter objective, as if anyone who holds my daughter experiences the glory that I experience when I do. The subjectivity of a religious appeal to something like beauty is easier for us to see when it is put forward by Islam instead of Christianity. One of the most prominent lines of reasoning in Islamic apologetics is that the Qur’an can be known to be true because it is a work of literary beauty and moral sublimity that is unparalleled and impossible to imitate. The Qur’an says in one place (among others), “Oh people, if you doubt the heavenly origin of this Book which We have sent down to Our servant, the Prophet, produce one surah like it” (2:23). Can any writing be put forth that will satisfy this challenge in the eyes of Muslims? I suggest that it is impossible, because the claim is subjective. Muslims adore the Qur’an as holy. How could they see something unholy as equally beautiful? Therefore, it is clear as Piper advances his point about the glory of Christ in the gospel as the evidence for the truth of the Bible, that he is talking about a subjective evidence.

In addition to saying that the glory of Christ in the Bible is “objective,” Piper says that it is “self-authenticating.” (In Calvin’s words above: “Scripture exhibits fully as clear evidence of its own truth”.) In fact this is one of the main claims Piper makes in the book, using the term in the book’s introduction webpage on desiringgod.com, and throughout the text. Now, a truth that is “self-evident” or “self-authenticating” is something that is authenticated by no outside authority, but subjectively, that is, having the proper source of its evidence or authentication in the mind itself. For example, the Founding Fathers held it to be self-evident that all men are created equal, on the basis that any man contemplating the statement has a subjective perception of its truth, based on reason; in other words, it has no other proof but needs no other, since every man’s reason confirms it to him in his mind. By calling the glory of Christ in the scriptures self-authenticating, Piper is saying that one’s mind is the source of the authentication of the Bible. It is important to notice the possible implications of this. If we say that the truth of the Bible is evident to the natural human mind, we make it out to be something ascertainable by the natural mind, in other words, by reason. Now, this reliance on reason is troubling when it comes to the gospel. The comprehension of the divine beauty of the gospel is anything but “natural” in a fallen state of nature, and the glorious paradoxes of the gospel are not “reasonable,” but a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles. Dr. Piper would be the first to admit that reason alone cannot bring one this saving vision of the divine glory. To give him the benefit of the doubt, I think that he uses the term “self-authenticating” with unintentional ambiguity, and doesn’t really mean that the way we are certain of the supernatural truth of the Bible is by natural reason. Instead, he means that the Holy Spirit within our minds confirms the truth of the Bible to our minds, and it is in that sense subjective: it is within our minds. However, although it is a subjective truth, it is not a self-authenticating truth, but a truth authenticated by a divine witness. This is in fact where Piper ends up, especially in Chapter 11: he explains the Spirit as the agent of illumination.

Filtering out the misleading implications that the glory of God is itself a means by which men may ascertain its truth, or that it is evident by man’s natural faculties, we see Piper’s strongest claim, that our certainty comes from the Holy Spirit’s supernatural guidance and illumination of the mind. Piper first introduces this idea of the Holy Spirit’s role via Jonathan Edwards: The “internal evidences” that Edwards mentions are authenticated “by the special influence and enlightenings of the Spirit of God” (qtd. p. 142), which Edwards says accounts for why some otherwise rational men do not seem to notice them in their study of the Bible. The idea is really expounded in Chapter 11, where Piper stakes the heart of his argument on a crucial phrase by Calvin: “We can know the Bible is the word of God by ‘the internal testimony of the Spirit’” (p. 182). Perhaps Calvin recognized the danger of ascribing the illumination that affirms the Bible merely to the human mind. Perhaps he heard the thundering hooves of the Enlightenment coming on the heels of the Reformation. In any case, he ascribes it to the Holy Spirit:

The testimony of the Spirit is more excellent than all reason. For as God alone is a fit witness of himself in his word, the Word will not find acceptance in men’s hearts before it is sealed by the inward testimony of the Spirit. The same Spirit therefore who has spoken through the mouths of the prophets must penetrate into our hearts to persuade us that they faithfully proclaimed what had been divinely commanded . . . because until he illumines their minds, they ever waver among many doubts! (qtd. p. 184)

According to Calvin, it is by the Spirit’s illumination that we transcend our own rational powers to know beyond a shadow of a doubt the trueness of scripture.

Therefore illumined by [the Spirit’s] power, we believe neither by our own nor by anyone else’s judgment that Scripture is from God; but above human judgment we affirm with utter certainty (just as if we were gazing upon the majesty of God himself) that it has flowed to us from the very mouth of God by the ministry of men. (qtd. p. 187)

Or, as Piper explains, “beneath a spiritually vital judgment…is a Spirit-given illumination of the majesty of God himself. The sight of God’s glory precedes and grounds the formation of rational judgments about its truth.” Piper is saying that the proof of the Bible by the beauty of Christ is in our minds, yet not merely by the human mind, but by the Holy Spirit who sanctifies our minds through his divine and authoritative light.

Although I too believe that the inward witness of the Holy Spirit affirms to us all that we read in the Bible, this fact, no matter how true, does not provide any more epistemological certainty; rather it merely shifts the question over a bit. Imagine that a man comes to you and says, “I found these scrolls, and they were sent from heaven!” and you ask him, “How do you know they were sent from heaven?” Suppose he were to reply, “Because an angel appeared to me and told me.” Now you are a person who believes that angels and heaven exist. However, even given that, what would your response be? Would it be to say, “Well, since you say that an angel told you they are from God, I suppose they must be”? Isn’t it more likely that you will be inclined to ask, “Well, then how do I know that an angel appeared to you?” And that is the question we must ask of ourselves, suspending for the sake of truth our assumption that we know the truth: How do we know that the Holy Spirit has truly illumined us, and not some lesser power or principality?

Within the greater realm of those who claim Christianity there are some who, in answer to this question, leap off the precipice of absolute subjectivity, saying, “We know it because we know it. There is no explanation, you just know.” But their tautology brings the argument swiftly to an end, and as swiftly their faith, for they have no room for a Christ outside the one in their mind. John Piper–thanks be to God–is not willing to be among them, and so, when he is tacitly faced with this question, he deliberately avoids the precipice, clarifying that the Holy Spirit does not speak to us in just any way, but by and through the words of the Bible.

“The internal testimony of the Spirit is not an added revelation to what we see in Scripture. It is not the voice of the Spirit saying to our mind, ‘What you are now looking at in the Bible is the majesty of God; so start seeing it’” (p. 187).

The Spirit is not an added revelation outside Scripture. Nor does it work apart from Scripture.

God does not hang a lantern on the house of Scripture so that we will know it is his house. He does not certify his masterpiece with a distinguishing, Rembrandt-like signature. He does not give a voice from heaven: “This is my book, listen to it.” That is not what the word  “testimony” or “witness” means in the phrase “testimony [or witness] of the Holy Spirit.” Rather, the testimony of the Spirit is the work of the Spirit to give us new life and, with this life, eyes to see what is really there in the self-attesting divine glories of Scripture—the meaning of Scripture. (p. 190)

We do not know the Spirit’s work by some supernatural sign, but by the fact that he illumines our eyes to the true meaning of Scripture. In other words, Piper’s answer to the question “How do we know the Holy Spirit has truly illumined us?” is “Because it shows us the divine glory in the meaning of scripture.” The means of confirming the work of the Spirit is the Bible.

It is at this point we realize that Piper’s argument utterly fails, that it is an infinite loop. He commits the logical fallacy of begging the question. For if we ask him, “How do we know the scriptures are true?” the answer comes, “By the revelation of the Holy Spirit,” and if we ask him, “How do we know that a revelation is from the Holy Spirit?” the answer comes, “By the scriptures.”

Piper’s main purpose in the book is to establish a means of knowing for certain that the Bible is true–a means that is available to every man without historical-critical scholarship. We see now that the Bible is not its own authentication, and, although the Spirit of God confirms to us the glorious and holy truth contained in the Bible, the Holy Spirit and the Holy Book share the need for an anchor of well-grounded proof, a defense for the hope that is in them. On what reasonable grounds can we base our belief that the Bible is true, or for that matter, that the Holy Spirit speaks to us? I believe there is such a solid ground.

To find this firm foundation, we have to trace Piper’s argument back to Chapter 7, as Piper is laying the groundwork for his argument in Chapters 8-11. In Chapter 7 he makes some assumptions that doom the following chapters to failure: he claims that the authority that the Twelve Apostles and Paul had as spokesmen for Jesus was not transferable.

Once the Twelve were established for their foundational ministry, there was no plan or provision to be replaced. Paul referred to the new and growing church as “the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone” (Eph. 2:19–20); and John described the church in Revelation as a city coming down from heaven whose wall had “twelve foundations, and on them were the twelve names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb” (Rev. 21:14). The point of Paul and John is that foundations that Christ puts in place are unshakeable and once for all. They are not replaced in every generation. The apostles were once for all. Alfred Plummer clarifies this point on the basis of the intrinsic purpose of the apostolate as Jesus created it: “The absence from Christ’s teaching of any statement respecting the priesthood of the Twelve, or respecting the transmission of the powers of the Twelve to others, is remarkable. As the primary function of the Twelve was to be witnesses of what Christ had taught and done, especially in rising from the dead, no transmission of so exceptional an office was possible.” (p. 122)

Piper says that because the apostles were “foundations,” they could not be “replaced,” which we understand through the quote by Plummer to mean that the transmission of their office was not possible. The implication is that their role as “authorized spokesmen who would teach with [Christ’s] authority” (p. 118)–the authority by which Piper claims the New Testament came into being–ended with The Apostles. But this reasoning is absolutely false. No one lays the foundation of a building and then stops and says, “Well, these bricks are the foundation, therefore I should not put any bricks on top of them.” Indeed, if they are a foundation, then by definition they must be built upon. And God is no foolish builder who leaves his foundations unfinished, but is building on the foundation of the apostles and prophets. As it says in Ephesians 2:19-21, which Piper quotes from, “In him the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord. And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit.” Nor does the transmission of an office imply supplantation, but rather succession. No one at the Continental Congress, upon having elected George Washington as the first president of the United States, said, “Well, since we have recognized him as the greatest man in America, we surely must never elect a man to replace him as president.” It is certainly true that the Twelve Apostles have always been accorded unequalled honor above the saints, but it is all the more fitting that there should be successors to their office. The only argument offered by Piper or Plummer that there could not possibly be successors to their office is essentially that Jesus would surely have said something about it, which is a fallacious argumentum ex silentio, an argument from silence.

And here we begin to see our hope, for if the office of “authorized spokesmen who would teach with [Christ’s] authority” is not ended, but alive and well, then we can base our faith in the Bible on their testimony, a testimony that is not entirely in heaven (as the testimony of the Holy Spirit) nor entirely on earth (as the testimony of human reason), but straddling both, like Jacob’s Ladder, like Christ Himself, fully divine and fully human. Behold, here indeed is such a witness, the “holy temple” of which we are bricks and “in which God lives by his Spirit,” the Church, whose head speaks with divine authority handed down from those first authorized spokesmen by unbroken apostolic succession by the laying on of hands.

How can we know that the Bible is true? We can believe on the testimony of the witness who wrote it, who preserved it, who canonized it, and treasured the gospel of God in her bosom from the earliest days of Christianity until today. The Church is with us as a living and authoritative witness so that we do not have to become scholars to have a grounded basis for our faith. Indeed, Piper admits that even if we were to become masters of historical criticism, “the results of such study would not provide a sure foundation for faith that you could stake your life on” (p. 130). By trusting the authority of the Church, which is led by the Holy Spirit and given a spiritual enlightenment, we do not have to subject our trust to the arguments of mere human critics and rationalist skeptics. Yet the Church is also an earthly institution, standing as a physical and historical tether to the objective truths of Christianity, fiercely insistent and perennially consistent in its dogma, keeping us from the pitfalls to which blind subjectivism would leave us vulnerable. The Holy Catholic Church, the Body of the Spirit of Christ, The Protector of the Bible, is the Bible’s one sure foundation, as Christ is hers. All who love the Bible will be drawn to her.

The authority to interpret scripture

In the previous essay I concluded that the Bible is reliable on the basis of the authority of the institutional Church to establish Christian practice and doctrine. But, although Protestants accept from the hand of Tradition both the Bible and its companions, the Creeds, they reject the authority of the Tradition of the Church today (as the battle cry “sola scriptura” proclaims). Such authority must have been removed from the Church sometime (perhaps gradually) between the 4th Century and the 16th Century, at which point the Reformation occurred. I have heard it explained in roughly these words: “God gave the institutional Church authority through the apostolic age and through the age of the councils, so that the Bible would be reliably formed, but since the closure of the Canon, the authority to interpret doctrine no longer resides with the leaders of the Church, but with all believers, since the meaning of the Bible is evident and apparent within its completed pages and stands on its own.” Authority to interpret has been removed from the Church, and given to all who can read the Bible for themselves. It is a good thing to read the Bible for oneself, but to place the power to interpret the Bible into the hands of everyone is to destroy all certainty of truth.

The Zionist First Church of God of Holiness

We become aware of this if we consider the hundreds of different protestant denominations, many of which we can agree are dubiously orthodox. Take, for example, Reverend Michael at the Zionist First Church of God of Holiness down the street, who claims to be an apostle, slays people with the spirit, and drives a Rolls Royce because the Holy Spirit told him to tell his congregation to contribute to the work of the Lord. We can’t accept his authority, can we? But on what basis do we reject it? We will answer, “His teaching and lifestyle doesn’t line up with the Bible.” But Apostle Michael quotes heavily from the Bible all the time. So, on what basis do we claim that his teachings don’t line up? “He misinterprets scripture.” And how do we know that he is misinterpreting scripture? Because we know how to correctly interpret the meaning of scripture. On what grounds are we certain of our interpretations?

The first and most common line of reasoning that comes to the Protestant mind is, I believe, based on an incorrect assumption.

Intrinsic meaning?

The Protestant will probably answer that we can be certain of our interpretations because, by careful study of Greek, Hebrew, and biblical history, we can know the original intention of the author to his audience, situated in the historical, linguistic, and textual context, and discovering this intention is to know the meaning of the text. This is based on a key assumption about the nature of meaning shared by most evangelicals and expressed by John Piper:

“The grammatical-historical method…aims to get at something intrinsic to the text, namely its meaning.”

Piper defines the meaning of a text as the author’s intention (as discernible from the historical, linguistic, cultural context, etc.) and claims authority to know it based on the fact that the intention is intrinsic to the words of the text. However, it is decidedly not the case that an author’s intention is intrinsic to his words.

Permit me to get technical for a moment. All meaning is conveyed between interlocutors using a process of coding, transferring, and decoding messages. Words, whether “well formulated in writing” or in spoken utterance, are the signs of meaning, the material used in transfer. In a precise semiology, words are not identical to the author’s intention. The intention or meaning is conveyed by the words in conjunction with the encoding and decoding apparatuses of both interlocutors. My ability to understand someone’s intention is dependent on how well they interpret the message into a form I can understand and how well I interpret the form of their message back into an intention. Therefore, the author’s intention is not simply intrinsic to his words, but passes between him and the reader by the instrument of his words within a communicative act that includes interpretation on both their parts.

Such a denial of the role of interpretation in meaning causes us to (unintentionally) neglect God’s role in interpreting scripture to us, and overemphasize our role. This brings us to the real grounds on which Protestants are sure of their interpretations of scripture.

Faith in Reason

What asserting the intrinsic meaning of the texts of scripture is really doing is placing the full power and responsibility to interpret scripture in the hands of Reason, the faculty of the human mind.

At first, we depend on reason only under the guise of scholarship–“Enough rigorous study and education eventually grant the authority to interpret scripture reliably.” However, the subjection of the scriptures to rational scholarship has, in the past four centuries, produced an enormous amount of scholarship doubting nearly everything that can be believed about the Bible, not to mention thousands of fractures of communion based on contradictions of interpretation. Must we accept the positions of any liberal pastor, any linguist, any historical-critical professor of theology who puts forward a new interpretation of scripture based on scholarly study? If we do, then all we will have left of our Christianity will be an emasculated, ham-strung collection of historical happy thoughts. If we say no, then we must again answer, “On what basis?” It is tempting to pretend that there is a consensus among scholars that we might give authority to, by presenting a list of opinions that excludes scholars we deem to be unorthodox, but as with the Canon we will find ourselves begging the question again.

In the end, the only thing we have left to put forward as the sure authority for the interpretation of scripture is our own reason and intellect. But here we have come to something as indefensible as Reverend Michael’s sermon at the Zionist First Church of God of Holiness, for no man who says that the Holy Spirit spoke to him can be proved wrong, and neither can a man who gives ultimate authority to his own reason. But no reasonable person absolutely relies upon his reason. The sane person never absolutely trusts his sanity. As G.K. Chesterton says, “The sane man knows that he has a touch of the beast, a touch of the devil, a touch of the saint, a touch of the citizen. Nay, the really sane man knows that he has a touch of the madman.” In contrast, it is a mark of the insane man that he fixates on his own reasonings. “The madman is not the man who has lost his reason. The madman is the man who has lost everything except his reason.” The rational man must admit that he is not exempt from the weaknesses of the mind that cause other men to err with the utmost sincerity, and he will look for something greater than himself in which to anchor his understanding of the divine mysteries.

The Church, the interpreter

What shall we say, then? Here lies the Bible before us, but how can we interpret its meaning into our lives with confidence? Surely God has provided a reliable interpreter. We need an interpreter whose authority is neither merely human (as the scholar’s reason) nor merely divine (as the charismatic’s spirit), but has a foot in both, possessing the same dual nature as our Lord Jesus Himself, who is fully God and fully Man. Where can we find such an interpreter? She stands before us in the One True Church, whose Body is on earth and whose Head is in heaven. It was she that gave us the scriptures by the power vested in her, and it is she who continues to give them to this very day. If she does not interpret for us, there can be no sure interpretation.

The authority to interpret the Bible lies today in the same hands as it did in the 4th century, those of the Church. We need to repent of our trust in our own minds, which does not bring glory to God, and instead gladly submit to the safety of the authority of the Living Body of Christ which preserves truth. We must accept the holy and catholic Church as the agency through which God has promised to guide our interpretations of scripture and proclaim its truth in power throughout the earth.

 

How can we trust the Canon?

The assaults of modern skepticism on the foundations of Christianity often levy a question that it is crucial to answer: “How can you be sure that the collection of books now accepted by the Church and no others are holy and divinely inspired, bearing testimony to Jesus’ true original message?” Upon being asked how we can know that the Canon of Scripture is trustworthy, the Catholic will answer, “Tradition,” that is, the scriptures are affirmed as canonical because of their reception by the Church, especially over the first 300 years of Christianity, as ratified by the councils of the 4th century. The key assumption is that the Church had the authority to sanctify the scriptures they accepted, and the sacredness of the Canon is fully dependent on the Church. However, the Protestant, being wont to bestow such power on Tradition, will admit its function but qualify it by pointing to other factors that can be objectively used to define Canonicity, which they claim were the very factors used by the early church, to the effect that Canonicity has always been primarily attributable to them, and only vicariously to the Church. These alternative bases are most commonly (1) their apostolic origin and (2) their own content, that is, the presence of the Gospel in their text. There may be other bases offered by Protestant scholars, but these options are the only ones I can recall being put forward in my 20 years of Protestant education, and besides, together with Tradition they seem to nearly exhaust the possibilities. Now, I am about to argue that the authority that established the Canon of the Bible cannot be ultimately attributable to either of those things, and must therefore be ultimately attributed to the Tradition of the Church.

Apostolic Origin

Common Protestant reasoning is that the Church accepted the Canon based on the apostolic authority of the authors, whose immediacy to Christ ensured their testimony was the true one he came to bring, and whose authority is manifest in the gospels and the Acts of the Apostles, in which they are seen to receive anointing from Jesus and the Holy Spirit to perpetuate the church. Apostolicity does in fact bear a striking correlation with the acceptance of the books in the Canon (almost all of the Canon can be traced to an apostle or an apostle’s associate). However, we cannot accept that a book that merely asserted apostolic authority was authentic, and neither did the early church. There were gospels allegedly written by apostles and asserting the authority of apostolic authorship—the Gospel of Thomas and the Gospel of Peter, among others—which were deemed to be uncanonical. And furthermore, the apostolic origin of some canonical books was disputed at the time of the Canonization of scripture (and is not certain to this day), including at least Hebrews, 2 Peter, and Jude. It is clear that “apostleship” is not a category that can singlehandedly explain to us the difference between canonical and non-canonical books, and it was not sufficient for the early church either. The question is, therefore, on what basis were some books ruled out, and others ruled in?

The Content of the Writings

The reply to this is that the books were judged to be canonical on the basis of the orthodoxy of their content. One of the bases on which their content may have been judged is sometimes referred to as their “Consistent Message,” that is, whether a book contained a “theological outlook similar to or complementary to other accepted Christian writings” . Certainly a degree of consistency is evident in the canonical books, but it cannot be the standard. For one thing, there are some striking inconsistencies in the messages of the books. For example, Martin Luther railed against the book of James and wanted it cast out of the Canon, calling it an “epistle of straw” because its message was so seemingly incompatible with the drift of the Pauline epistles. No, the Canon is not plainly consistent, but full of “dialectical tension,” the precarious balance of paradoxes and antinomies that must be held together by some other cause. By what means could the early church have placed James alongside Galatians, despite the inconsistencies? To what authority would they appeal? Even if we find a core theme throughout all the books (which we do believe is there, deep down), the argument will not hold up, for all that the skeptic need do is choose a book and ask, “What other books was this book judged to be consistent with?” and trace it back to the first epistles and gospels, which could have been consistent with no others, since none existed. (For emphasis, we can recall that in the early era, the books of the New Testament were circulated and possessed by particular churches quite unevenly and incompletely, so that doctrinal decisions based on textual comparisons would have been extremely difficult.) In the end, saying that the Canon was consistent with itself is like being asked “What is a republican?” and replying, “A republican is someone who believes what other republicans believe.” We need to provide some other basis.

Having stripped away mere “self-consistency” as a valid basis, the claim will be revised to state that the canonical books were not consistent with each other, per se, as much as they were consistent with the central message of Christianity, the Gospel. “The early church recognized the sacredness of certain of the circulated writings because it contained the living spark of the Gospel message that they had received. The gospels of Thomas and Peter, for example, were ultimately ruled out because they promoted Gnosticism and lacked an orthodox Gospel core.” Again, this is undoubtedly true, but let us push it further and ask, “How did the early Church know the Gospel? How were they certain of their central message in the midst of many budding heresies?” The Protestant is tempted to say, “They knew it by the standard of the early apostolic writings,” in other words, by the Canon (Greek kanon, meaning rule or measure) of scripture. But here we have committed the logical fallacy of begging the question: The Church knew the Canon because it was consistent with the Gospel, and they knew the Gospel because it was consistent with the Canon! It’s a loop, which reveals that we have inserted some assumption about what the Gospel is. So, on what basis did the early Church know the Gospel?

The Tradition of the Church

At this point we realize it is necessary to believe that the Church has always known the Gospel, inherently—that she possesses the seed that Christ planted and that nothing has ever removed it. This can be attested by much historical evidence—the unbroken apostolic succession of the Apostolic Fathers and their witness through writing—so that we can assert that there was never an opportunity for heresies to have infiltrated the entire heart of the Church, though many were resisted bitterly and several nearly won. However, this belief is ultimately an article of faith, for if we have any confidence in our faith, we must affirm as a fact that God preserved his Church, protecting her from heresy while she presided over the very pugilistic and divisive process of establishing the Bible and doctrines we now hold. Such a belief is warranted in terms of the Bible as well—Jesus prays for such preservation to his Father, and he promises it to Peter and the disciples. Indeed, there is no certain basis for orthodoxy in the first three centuries of Christianity, except that it was kept alive unceasingly in the bosom of the Church, the living body of believers, who passed the Gospel and the Holy Spirit from one to another. The Canon, which gradually materialized throughout this time, owes its birth to her faith. Therefore, all Christians who affirm the inspiration of scripture as we now possess it today must affirm that the institution of the Church was the faithful and authoritative judge and interpreter of the Gospel, at least through the 4th century.

Which book have you read more than any other and why?

This was the starter question at our staff meeting yesterday, and since I have read the Bible more than any other and that is a bit of a religious limb to go out on in a staff meeting, I had to think about my reply. Here’s how I answered the “why”:

I love stories, but the saddest thing about a story is when you put down the book or turn off the TV and realize that that’s not your life. In the Bible I find an epic narrative of the real struggles and history of ancient peoples, of which I feel I am actually a part and continuation. I find beautiful poetry and prophecy that is, in some real sense, about me. I read the Bible more than any other book because I live for story, and the Bible is to me the story of all stories, in whose pages I find myself told.

What I believe about the Bible

(These statements are where I’m at right now and are, as are my beliefs, “works in progress” by the grace of God.)

I believe that God has revealed himself to man through the scriptures and through the Church his living body.

I believe that the scriptures contain the true testimony of God’s revelation to man, as God saw fit to preserve it through his prophets and the faithful scribes of Israel, and the true testimony of God’s ultimate revelation in the person of Jesus Christ, as God saw fit to preserve it through the apostles’ writings and teachings.

I believe that that God presided over and orchestrated the writing of the scriptures, and that he has preserved them to the present day, such that they accurately and clearly contain all the divine truth which he intended to convey to them. Thus God can be said to be the author of the scriptures, and thus they are sacred, and their contents are of inestimable power and worth.

I believe that the words of the Bible as we possess today in the oldest manuscripts may not preserve the original messages of the authors precisely, literally, and completely, yet that this would be unnecessary according to God’s intentions.

I believe that what can be said to be the revelation of God is not only direct linguistic revelation, but includes other forms, including indirect inspiration (as in the case of the biblical historians, perhaps) and, chiefly, the living human form of Jesus, the Word. Therefore, the Bible can be said to be the Word of God, but in a vicarious sense, since it is the holy vessel of the Word.

I believe that God has made his body, the Church, the steward of his revelation and the house of his Holy Spirit, and as such has given her the power and responsibility to preserve and propagate his great good news, to explain the scriptures, and to interpret the living and active Word into the present moment. (After all, the New Testament scriptures grew out of and were solidified by the Church.)

The necessity of trust in the Scriptures

It is essential to the Christian faith that God exists and that he can, and has, and continues to, show up and reveal himself to humans. Furthermore, Christianity essentially affirms that God’s revelation to man has been captured in the Holy Scriptures.

Much of the latest textual critics and historians downplay and invalidate the events recorded in the Bible. They believe later political and religious leaders (Pharisees or the like, probably) tampered with the story to solidify their hold on the kingdom of Israel, or to gain power for the Levitical order, or etc.

This is not an option for the Christian: We must believe that that God’s revelation is available to us now, in an essentially and sufficiently accurate form. Why? Because this is the bedrock of Christianity. Historical revelations define our collective concept of who God is, how we are to relate to him, and what he wants from us. Believing in God is inextricably linked to believing in his Word – the only means by which we know him, being the revelation of the Unseen God who “dwells in unapproachable light.” The Word is in core essence Jesus Himself, but by extension, and by similar pattern, his Word means that set of linguistic information by which the Word from the Father is made known to our individual hearts, namely, Scripture. Without the Word (logos), preached from human mouths and preserved in the sacred texts, we cannot possess the Living Word (rhema), with which the Spirit of Jesus feeds our souls and gives us New Life. Without the Scriptures, our link to a true knowledge of God is severed.

We must believe that all that God requires us to know about him will by him be preserved and made available to his people in every age. He cannot be thwarted by conniving religious leaders or sloppy scribes who would attempt to distort his word. Nothing can sever Jesus, the Head, from His Body. Thus the Christian must affirm and believe a doctrine of the divine preservation of revelation (the inerrancy of scripture, as it is usually called).

This affirmation of the Scriptures is not blind; it is based on significant textual and historical evidence. The fact is that the Bible contains some of the best-preserved ancient documents available in the science of textual criticism, and to pick and choose which parts of it we think have been tampered with or haven’t, based on how odd they appear to us (or, again, to select critics who agree with us), is to act with dangerous ignorance.

We must trust Scripture, even when it doesn’t make sense. We cannot deny revelation because it is contrary to what we would have preferred or expected. That is to commit a grievous evil: to believe that our imagination or reason (or that of whatever other human philosophers we happen to agree with) is sufficient to bring us to a true knowledge of God. In reality, it is only when God makes himself known to man that man can know God. As John Piper says:

“He is what you’ve got to deal with in reality. Therefore our role is not to tell him how it is, but to learn how it is, and then adapt our little finite minds and hearts to the way he is…so that we bring our minds and hearts into conformity with Reality, namely, God.”

The Christian accepts all of scripture, even if he does not understand it. Even if it is quite inconvenient. Even if battles of contextual criticism rage on in academia (which they will always do). We must trust in the scriptures, not as the source of Life of themselves, but as our link to Jesus, the Word, who himself is our link to the Father, and our Eternal Hope.

Wearing it on our sleeves

And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)

God told his people to obsess about his words. Israel was to talk about His words everywhere they went, with the bank teller, with their kid when dropping him off at school, at the dinner table, in bed with their spouses. They were to make signs to remind themselves and put them on their doors and gates, and bathroom mirrors, and above their TV’s. They were supposed to wear God’s words on their rings and bracelets and necklaces, and get scripture tattoos, and strap passages of scripture onto their foreheads as if playing one of those “guess which famous character I am” games. They were supposed to make His words priority both publicly and privately, because his words are the wellspring of everything that can refresh the mind, transform the soul from wicked to willing, and fill the empty soul. His words are life and blessing and peace. They are truth, no, they are utter reality. Other things in life are fluff and distraction. The TV show I watched last night is but a vapor, but the scripture I can barely seem to focus on this morning, that is everything.

God, give us the grace to obsess about, delight in, and soak in your scripture. May the Word consume us as we consume his words.

Gender in the Bible

What exactly defines one’s gender and sexuality? There are a lot of things I would consider masculine or feminine, that aren’t associated the same way in other cultures. More importantly, what is the part beneath the cultural variability that matters to God? How does one’s sexual orientation please or displease God? Here are a few scriptures that discuss them overtly, interestingly the same ones usually examined when studying marriage (I bet the passages below are the most quoted at weddings). These verses, however, show that God is quite invested in the distinction between male and female.

Genesis 1:27–28: “God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth.”

Genesis 2:23–24. When the woman is created from his side, the man exclaims: “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.” Therefore, a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.”

Matthew 19:4-6: Have you not read that he who created them from the beginning made them male and female and said, “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh”? So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.

Ephesians 5: 24-32: Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands. 25 Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her. . . . 31 “Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” 32 This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church.

We are made, male and female, “in God’s image.” We are designed to “become one flesh” and never separated. And this mystery, Paul says, has reflected Christ and the church since the beginning of Creation. In the mingling of a man and woman we get a picture of God’s relationship to us. What it means to be masculine, essentially, is to reflect the relationship that Christ has to the Church. Conversely, femininity is reflecting the role that the Church plays in its relationship to Christ. Gender roles are not about how much hair you have and where. They are not about whether women can wear pants or men can wear skirts (think of the Scots). We can’t hang our hat on any one cultural standard. Fulfilling these roles might look quite different between situations or cultures. (I take it the women chopped wood among the native Americans.) But there is something less specific, but much more profound, real, and significant to the male/female dichotomy. There is a duality at the core of the nature of humanity, and God says he created it so that we would get a clue about what it’s like to relate to him. From the beginning, God designed masculinity and femininity.

But we live in the aftermath of the Great Corruption that occurred after the divine definitions of gender given in Genesis 1 and 2. Our perceptions and intuitions of God’s order are distorted or forgotten (and where they are remembered, resented). Our hearts are governed by passions fixed on objects they were never intended for, because we have lost sight of the Great One who, in being our chief passion, aligns all the rest. Homosexuality is not disease, but a symptom. The disease is that the world groans in an unnatural state of rebellion against God. Our feelings deceive us. In this rebel state our hearts are drawn toward things they should not desire, and repulsed by things they should. To those who say that we should accept gays the way they are, I ask if they gave the same philosophy to the victims of Hurricane Katrina. “That’s just the way the weather cycles go. We have to embrace them.” If it is true that our world is not as it once was — as it should be — then could human sexuality not be part of that which was changed for the worse?

Am I willing to submit every aspect of my current natural self to Christ so that he could do in me a divine work of transformation? Do I cling to my passions and inclinations as my personal property? Am I willing to trust him that his plan for sexuality is the best? Or do I believe that, because I am one way now, that must God’s best for me? But God loves us too much to leave us as we are.

“Yet the call is not only to prostration and awe; it is to a reflection of the Divine life, a creaturely participation in the Divine attributes which is far beyond our present desires. We are bidden to ‘put on Christ,’ to become like God. That is, whether we like it or not, God intends to give us what we need, not what we now think we want. Once more, we are embarrassed by the intolerable compliment, by too much love, not too little.” — C.S. Lewis