My Bible vs. Our Bible

My Bible vs. Our Bible

Most of us have multiple Bibles positioned strategically (or not) throughout our homes. When we need a new one, we drive down the street to Mardel or click “Buy Now” on Amazon. Or, if you’re fancy, you might shell out the cash for a Schuyler on evangelicalBible.com. We make the purchase, and a copy of God’s Word becomes our possession.

This is one of the privileges of living on the other side of the 15th century, when the printing press was invented; and on this side of the Industrial Revolution, when mass production of just about any product became normal. Christians living before Gutenberg weren’t so fortunate. For them, just about everything they knew about the Bible came through someone they trusted, a priest or bishop, or perhaps an educated seminary professor. The communal aspect of reading and following God’s Word was integral to their identity as Christians. They could not know the Word apart from their relationship with other people.

This is not the case for us. We can pick up one of our many copies of God’s Word and read it by ourselves anytime we’d like. We can listen to the Bible while driving to work. And we can scroll through the Bible on our iPhones. While all of this convenience comes with numerous advantages we rightly relish, there is a drawback. This drawback can be overcome, even while maintaining the unique privileges we have in this age. But if it is to be overcome, we need to be aware of it.

The Bible Is Given by God to the Church

First, I want you to try and put yourself in the shoes of a pre-modern Christian.

You live from Lord’s Day to Lord’s Day. You are devoutly committed to your local church. And you commune with the saints regularly. You do not own a single Bible. The available codices are reserved for monks and missionaries, but not a commoner such as yourself. Everything you know about the Bible has been read to you by someone else. And you’ve been able to memorize a great deal. The words that you do know from Scripture are more precious to you than gold and rarer to you than jewels. You credit the possession of such treasure to the community you gather with week in and week out. Your church explains your survival. As a result, you see your church as a real lifeline. It’s vital. The only Bible you’ve ever seen is at your church. The pastor reads from it every Lord’s Day, and it was produced over the course of a year by a band of monks in a scriptorium a week’s ride from where you live.

It’s the church’s Bible.

On the Lord’s Day, when you attend church, that same Bible is visible at the front of the sanctuary. It never leaves the building. It is the people’s Bible. It might even be said that no one in your village would even know a single verse from Scripture if it weren’t for that one hand-copied Bible at your church. It is read in community, formative of the community, and understood by the community.

Okay, we can stop imagining. By now, I’m sure you get the picture.

It would be very difficult to individualize God’s Word in a society like the one described above. For the pre-modern saint, God’s Word was “our Bible,” not “my Bible.” Not only is this the case historically, but it’s also the case biblically. All of the epistles in the New Testament, even those originally addressed to individuals, e.g. Titus, Timothy, and Philemon (cf. Phil. 2), were intended for the church. The church is tasked with stewarding the Word of God and administering the Word of God through preaching and teaching. On several occasions, apostles Paul and John address “the church” in their epistles.

In 1 Corinthians 1:2, we read, “To the church of God which is at Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, with all who in every place call on the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, both theirs and ours…” This epistle is given to the church of Corinth, narrowly. But it is given to the whole church more broadly. In 2 Corinthians 1:1 we see similar language, “To the church of God which is at Corinth, with all the saints who are in Achaia…” In 1 Thessalonians 1:1, we read again, “To the church of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ…” And once more in 2 Thessalonians 1:1, “To the church of the Thessalonians in God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ…”

The apostle John, in 2 John 9, writes, “I wrote to the church, but Diotrephes, who loves to have the preeminence among them, does not receive us.” In 2 John 1, John addresses “the elect lady and her children,” which is likely a metonymy for the church.

The Bible is given to the church. While this was more culturally obvious before the printing press and the mass production of Bibles, it is a conviction we can and should retrieve even while enjoying our technological advantages. Just because we have “our” Bibles (a blessing to be sure), doesn’t mean we should think of the Bible as belonging preeminently to “me.” It is God’s revelation given to “us,” God’s people, God’s church.

Communal Language in Scripture & Early Creeds

The Lord’s Prayer situates the subject within a communal context. In other words, the person who prays prays with his fellow saints. Look at the first line: “Our Father in heaven…” It begins with the first person, plural, personal pronoun, “Our…” Our Lord assumed His church would pray prayers like this one together. Similarly, the Scriptures themselves were to be read to churches. In 1 Thessalonians 5:27, Paul writes, “I charge you by the Lord that this epistle be read to all the holy brethren.”

The Nicene Creed follows this communal aspect of the Holy Scripture. It begins as such…

We believe in one God,
the Father almighty,
maker of heaven and earth,
of all things visible and invisible.

The Athanasian Creed begins in a similar fashion…

That we worship one God in trinity and the trinity in unity,
neither blending their persons
nor dividing their essence.

The Chalcedonian Definition likewise includes corporate language. It begins as such, “Therefore, following the holy fathers, we all unite in teaching that we should confess one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Both Scripture and the ancient church following the 1st generation of Christians emphasized the communal structure of the Christian faith. The faith, along with the Scriptures from which it derives, belongs to the church and not to any individual or rogue Bible-interpreter.

Scriptural Abuses and Interpretational Accountability

I do not have the right to do whatever I want with the Bible.

One of the major issues with the Romish papacy is that it individualizes God’s Word at the highest political level. The pope, along with the college of bishops, have supreme authority to interpret the Bible. Historical interpretation aside, the small, elite class at the top gets to set the interpretive standard. Unfortunately, in our day, the “prerogative” of the pope has been assumed by pastors and lay people alike. “Me and my Bible” has become the arbiter of biblical meaning for many. Which is to say, it is now in vogue for many to think of themselves as self-made popes!

Though I may have the civil right to do anything I want with the leather and paper that make up my copy of the Bible, the substance of God’s Word is curated and interpreted by a Spirit-filled community, not by any single individual or elite class at the top. And while we must all come to our own conclusions as to what we believe the Bible means, this should not be done apart from the fellowship we have with other Christians, both dead and living. If the Holy Spirit works in me and you, He has worked in other Christians as well.

Since Scripture was and is given to the church and not to any one person, Christians must labor to understand and interpret Scripture within the context of that churchly community — a community of Spirit-enlivened saints.

Once we understand this, we are dutifully bound to humbly submit ourselves to the accountability provided by the “chorus of saints.” (Prov. 11:14; Rom. 12:16) Furthermore, once we grasp the Bible as the church’s book, we are liberated from the modernist burden of feeling as though we need to chart our own orthodoxy or re-invent the theological wheel. God’s people have been plundering the Scriptures for 2,000 years, and we are privileged to ride their coattails. This doesn’t imply a blind reception of any and every theological opinion. But it does mean that the theology and practice of the many, as represented in documents such as creeds and confessions, should hold more sway in our hearts and minds than any novel opinion offered within the last couple centuries.

Conclusion

Is it your Bible? Or is it our Bible?

While in a sense it is your Bible (you own a copy, and all the promises therein apply to you through Jesus Christ), it nevertheless belongs to the one body of Jesus Christ. This realization does two basic things. First, it keeps us accountable to the Holy Spirit as the Holy Spirit works in others beside ourselves. Second, it frees us from the burden of thinking of ourselves as “developers” of new, shiny theological constructs. When accountability is shrugged off for the “new,” and when theological innovation becomes the norm souls are hurt and Scripture is abused.

Scripture is “our” Bible. The saints are united in the interpretational task, and Christ is glorified where His saints dwell with one mind concerning the meaning of the text.

Shall We Worship Love? The Dilemma of Denying Divine Simplicity

Shall We Worship Love? The Dilemma of Denying Divine Simplicity

“For since ‘God is love,’ he who loves love certainly loves God; but he must needs love love, who loves his brother.” ~ Augustine, On the Holy Trinity, Bk. 8, Ch. 8

Contrary perhaps to a first glance, Augustine isn’t waxing redundant. If God is love, it certainly follows that this love must be loved more than anything or anyone else. It is a love that must be adored, pursued, and even worshiped.

In 1 John 4:8, the apostle writes, “He who does not love does not know God, for God is love.” And again in v. 16, “And we have known and believed the love that God has for us. God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him.” These two substantive clauses identify the perfection of love with God Himself. To put it more technically, the divine essence just is love, according to the apostle. Hence, as Augustine observes, this love must be loved. This love must be loved and adored above all else — for God is love.

But this causes a dilemma for those who would deny the identity of divine love with the divine itself. If love in God is God, this love must be worshiped. If love in God is not God, it must not be worshiped.

Let me try to explain…

The Doctrine of Divine Simplicity

The doctrine of divine simplicity (DDS) states that God is not composed of parts. Any parts. No really… there are no parts in God. Zip. Zero.

To put the doctrine of divine simplicity in the words of Herman Bavinck, “But in God everything is one. God is everything He possesses. He is his own wisdom, his own life; being and living coincide in him.”[1] To use the title language of James Dolezal’s helpful book, All That is in God Is God. The Second London Confession (1677) expresses the doctrine as follows, “The Lord our God is but one only living and true God; whose subsistence is in and of himself, infinite in being and perfection; whose essence cannot be comprehended by any but himself; a most pure spirit, invisible, without body, parts, or passions, who only hath immortality, dwelling in the light which no man can approach unto…” (2LCF 2.1; emphasis added)

According to DDS, any kind of partition or parthood in the divine essence must be denied. If mereology is the “study of parthood,” God does not have a mereology. Dolezal defines a “part” as “anything that is less than the whole and without which the whole would be really different than it is.”[2] Stephen Charnock expresses the same point, “the compounding parts are in order of nature before that which is compounded by them… If God had parts and bodily members as we have, or any composition, the essence of God would result from those parts, and those parts be supposed to be before God.”[3] In other words, if God had parts those parts would make Him who He is. He would be, in a sense, caused. To put it another way, God would depend on that which is more basic than Himself to be Himself. In sum, God would not be God if He were not simple.

Love in God, therefore, must not be thought to be anything other than God Himself. Hence, 1 John 4:8, 16, “God is love.” Love is not something God “has.” Love isn’t something God participates in with other beings. It’s not something more basic than Himself making Him to be what He is and without which He would be different.

The Dilemma of Denying the DDS

If God is love, we must love love, as Augustine observes above. But this means that the divine essence (God Himself) and love as it is in God must be the same. If this love were not God, it would be a gross error to love love as the highest good. It would be unthinkable to love, adore, and worship that which is not God Himself. To worship what is not God is to commit idolatry according to the first and second commandments. (Cf. Ex. 20) Thus, either love in God just is God, or it is not God. But if it is not God, it cannot be loved as the highest good, adored, and worshiped.

A denial of DDS (as stated above) would seem to imply a real distinction between God’s essence and the love that exists in God. But if this is the case, to worship and adore the love that is in God would be idolatry. Furthermore, the twin substantives in 1 John 4, i.e. “God is love,” would be nothing but poetic, if not hyperbolic, expressions. But this doesn’t seem likely given the identification of love with knowledge of God in v. 8. Nor would v. 16 easily permit flexibility in the language since it identifies the act of abiding in love with the act of abiding in God Himself, “And we have known and believed the love that God has for us. God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him.” Abiding in love just is to abide in God, but this would not necessarily be the case if love and God were really different “things.”

The denial of classical DDS seems to encounter a dilemma — worship love or not. If love is not God, it would be a sin to worship it. If love is God, it would be a sin not to.

Resources:

[1] Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, vol. 2, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2004), 174.

[2] James Dolezal, “Still Impassible: Confessing God Without Passions,” in Journal of the Institute of Reformed Baptist Studies, 132.

[3] Stephen Charnock, The Existence and Attributes of God, vol. 1, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House Company, 1979), 186.

Understanding Confessional Retrieval (Part 1)

Understanding Confessional Retrieval (Part 1)

Just a few years ago, I would’ve never imagined the evangelical landscape would include relatively deep conversations revolving around classical metaphysics, theology, and even politics. But thanks to a collective evangelical itch to retrieve the old ways, along with simultaneous disenchantment with the novus ordo of the evangelical industrial complex, Western Christianity is beginning to rediscover its roots. A contemporary reformation (of sorts) is afoot.

This is a good thing.

But as with any positive development, the danger of overreaction, over-realization, and a lack of wisdom looms. In particular, the question of retrieval always seems to be, What should we retrieve?

Monasticism? The episcopacy? Christian imperialism? The college of bishops? What do we retrieve? And do we ever stop retrieving? Does theological retrieval have a goal?

These are complicated questions. But they are questions I hope to address to some extent in the series that follows. This is the first of a few parts in that series. I hope it’s helpful.

What Is Retrieval?

In some ways, “retrieval” is a biblical principle. Throughout the Old Testament, deference is paid to the “old ways” and the “multitude of counselors.” It is a proverbial dictum that we ought not “remove the ancient landmark Which [our] fathers have set.” (Prov. 22:28) The “old paths” are “where the good way” is found. (Jer. 6:16) And we find safety in listening to the many voices that are wiser and older than ourselves. (Prov. 11:14; 15:22; 24:6)

When we speak of “retrieval” within a Christian context, we speak of what is a subset of historical theology. Historical theology is the science of exploring and appropriating the theology of the church’s past to the church’s present. What did our spiritual ancestors believe, and why? More strongly, is what they believed something we ought to be believing today? Have we stepped off the “old paths”?

Some have said, “The way back is the way forward.”[1] This sums up the project of retrieval quite nicely. The church is not a biological, chemical, or mechanical laboratory. We’re not looking for the latest developments in “Christian theology.” Our science is very old. Its purpose is not to locate the new or the most expedient. It’s not even oriented to what we take to be the most interesting or cutting-edge. 

The science of Christian theology concerns itself with a God that calls Himself the “Ancient of Days,” “everlasting,” and, “without end.” We are, fundamentally, a people who derive their knowledge from an eternal God who has sustained an ancient institution for over two millennia through means of an imponderably old Book. Paradoxically, this moves us forward—not only through time but unto everlasting beatitude. This isn’t true with every science. But it is true with ours.

Retrieval is the task of locating the old ways for the nourishment of contemporary spiritual life which, in turn, helps us to persevere well in the faith.

In the next part, I will discuss the “retrieval problem.”

Resources:

[1] I’ll credit this statement to Dr. Richard Barcellos who, if memory serves me rightly, heard it from the late Dr. Mike Renihan.

The Analogy of Scripture

The Analogy of Scripture

What is the analogy of Scripture?

We’ve all probably heard the phrase, “Scripture interprets Scripture.” When we say “Scripture interprets Scripture,” we are talking about the analogy of Scripture. Second Timothy 2:15 says, “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.”

In order to “rightly divide the Word of truth” we need to have recourse to God. God must teach us how to rightly divide His Word. Apart from a divine standard of interpretation, we will always foist our culturally conditioned assumptions and prejudices into the text. We need an ultimate Interpreter, and this ultimate Interpreter is God Himself through His Word.

The Second London Confession 1.9 reads, “The infallible rule of interpretation of Scripture is the Scripture itself; and therefore when there is a question about the true and full sense of any Scripture (which is not manifold, but one), it must be searched by other places that speak more clearly. (2 Peter 1:20, 21; Acts 15:15, 16)”

Clearer texts further our understanding of more ambiguous or less clear texts. So, when it comes to less clear texts, e.g. Rev. 20:4-10 (millennium), and 1 Cor. 7:14 (holy children), we need the rest of the Bible—the clearer texts therein—to better understand them.

Richard Muller, in his Dictionary of Latin and Greek Theological Terms (one of the most important books of our century), defines the analogy of Scripture (analogia Scripturae) in this way, “[it is] the interpretation of unclear, difficult, or ambiguous passages of Scripture by comparison with a collation or gathering, of clear and unambiguous passages or “places” (loci) that refer to the same teaching or event.”[1]

Resources

[1] Richard Muller, Dictionary of Latin and Greek Theological Terms, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2017), 25.

An Account of Credobaptism From Matthew 8

An Account of Credobaptism From Matthew 8

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been preaching through Matthew 8 at Victory Baptist Church. And let me just say, it’s a stunning chapter.

It has everything. 

Life, death, resurrection. Fear, faith, and fruitfulness. It’s a microcosm of the overall redemptive arc of our Lord’s incarnate ministry. From Capernaum, through the trial of storm, landing in the nether regions on the other side of Galilee (and Jordan). 

It’s a colorful chapter, no doubt.

But one theme I tried to maintain while preaching through Matthew 8 was discipleship.

Beginning in vv. 18-22, our Lord feeds a hard-to-swallow pill to two wannabe disciples. Then He actually takes His real disciples and draws a vivid and historically real picture of what discipleship looks like—trial, death, victory at the end of it all. From life in Capernaum, to trial at Sea, to death in the tombs, and at long last re-emergence unto life in Matthew 9:1—a return to Jesus’ “own city.”

Recently, as I was once more chewing the gum of Matthew 8 between the teeth of my mind, something emerged that I had not yet noticed:

Jesus’ real disciples follow Him onto the boat. In v. 23, there is a clear connection between an active, outward following of Christ with what it means, fundamentally, to be a disciple.

The Text, Discipleship, & Following Jesus

In vv. 18-22, the emphasis of the chapter turns to discipleship.

This become abundantly clear when we consider v. 19, “Then a certain scribe came and said to Him, ‘Teacher, I will follow You wherever You go.’” The scribe introduces the enduring emphasis from this point on. Our Lord’s response aims at the utter and unapologetic realism of discipleship, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.” (v. 20) Discipleship is an “unforgiving” environment by worldly standards.

In v. 21 “another of His disciples” asks Him if he can “first go and bury [his] father.” To which Jesus responds, “Follow Me, and let the dead bury their own dead.” (v. 22) 

Given that “disciple” (μαθητής) describes one who learns or follows, it is appropriate to connect that term here with Jesus’ imperative “follow” (ἀκολουθέω), which is to join or accompany someone. A disciple naturally follows his teacher. 

Furthermore, the context clearly sisters these terms together.

The man desiring to bury his father is presumably a disciple. He is called such in v. 21. But he wants to put his goal—following his Master—on hold in order to do something else. This is unacceptable so long as someone considers himself a disciple. A disciple follows, most fundamentally. No matter what value another occupation may seem to have.

In v. 23, something subtle, but pivotal, happens.

Jesus climbs aboard the boat first. The same boat He had allegedly mentioned according to v. 18. The order is important. The Lord goes first. He goes before His disciples. Naturally, of course, His disciples follow Him into the boat, “Now when He got into a boat, His disciples followed Him.” (v, 23) This is the second time, along with vv. 22-23, where discipleship is expressly connected to an active life of following Jesus.

The Text, Discipleship, & Baptism

Having established the connection between discipleship and following Jesus, we can now move to the general maritime trajectory of Jesus and His disciples.

The disciples follow their Lord into a boat. The boat sailed directly into a Galilean squall, which Matthew compared to an earthquake (seismos is the Gk. word used to describe the effects of winds and waves). The waves cover the boat according to v. 24. And their destination is southeast from Capernaum, the “other side” of Galilee—and consequently—the other side of Jordan, i.e. the place of the dead.

The geographical significance cannot be missed. Jesus and His disciples “go down” into the place of the dead, i.e. the tombs of the Gergesenes. (cf. vv. 28-34)

And they do so through water. Water that covers their vessel! And water from which only the Lord Himself delivers them, i.e. “Then He arose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was great calm.” (v. 27)

At this point, the reader is invited to consider the relevance of such a watery deluge on the Sea of Galilee to Jonah, the Flood of Noah and, finally, to baptism—all of which point to redemption from sin and death in Jesus Christ. Again, several layers are no doubt at play in this scene. But it certainly appears as though the Hebrew mind would want to connect the Galilee storm with, at least, Jonah. After all, both Jonah and Jesus are found sleeping on a boat in the midst of a storm. And while the responses of the main characters differ, their surrounding circumstances are nearly identical—down to not only the storm itself, but the responses of the men accompanying them.

But if the other narratives, such as Jonah and Noah, may be connected as parallels to the storm on the Sea of Galilee (and I think they easily can be), then it apparently follows that the storm on the Sea of Galilee is a functional metaphor for baptism. Consider the parallels:

  • Noah and his family are delivered by an ark through the water (1 Pet. 3:20, 21)
  • Jonah is delivered by a fish through the water (Jon. 1:17ff; Lk. 11:30)
  • Jesus’ disciples are delivered by Jesus Himself through the water (Matt. 8:26-28)

If the storm on the Sea of Galilee is a metaphor for the waters of baptism, the natural question ends up being: What immediately preceded that storm? What was the disposition of the disciples before the storm on the Sea?

The answer is found in Matthew 8:23, “Now when He got into a boat, His disciples followed Him.” The disciples were determined to follow their Lord leading up to their “immersion” in the Sea of Galilee, which is, not insignificantly, an extension of Jordan, e.g. where our Lord was baptized.

The prerequisite to the “baptism” in the storm on the Sea of Galilee was that the disciples be actual disciples. That is, that they determine to follow Jesus by faith “onto the boat,” so to speak. Apart from this determination, they would have never entered into the storm.

Just as we determine to follow Jesus through a petition to enter the church leading to baptism, so too did these disciples determine to follow Jesus through stepping onto that boat leading, as it were, to baptism.

Conclusion

I understand that this isn’t a knock-down argument for credobaptism.

But the emphasis upon following Jesus as a disciple leading up to their mutual baptism in the Sea of Galilee seems like a noteworthy image related to how we think of the sacrament of baptism. If the image bears any significance upon how we think of baptism, it would seem like we would need to take into account the manner in which the disciples entered upon the Sea and sailed through the storm.

They did so through determining, by faith, to follow their Lord.



Sola Scriptura & Biblicism: What’s the Difference?

Sola Scriptura & Biblicism: What’s the Difference?

Sola Scriptura or biblicism? Are they different? Are they the same thing? Given the recent uptick in biblicist lingo, these questions and many more may be living in your head. In this article, I will attempt to untangle some confusion. But I make no guarantees (emphasis on the word “attempt”). This conversation is at least half a decade old, and throughout its course has become extremely convoluted. On the one hand, some want to identify sola Scriptura with biblicism as if they are synonymous. On the other hand, some (like myself) resist the term biblicism because of the connotations it tends to carry. The normal definition of biblicism seems to denote association with heretics and their approach to the Bible. Arius, Audius, and Socinus are three such examples.

The purpose of this article is threefold. First, I contend that sola Scriptura and biblicism are entirely different from one another in form and matter. Sola Scriptura is a principle, biblicism is a mode or manner of biblical interaction. Second, I endeavor to show that the classical definition of sola Scriptura includes the use of subordinate authorities (norma normata or testes veritatis), the lot of which biblicists tend to resist in various ways and to different extents. Third, it is necessary to show how Scripture itself makes subordinate authorities ordinarily necessary in both the individual and ecclesial Christian life.

Sola Scriptura & Biblicism: What’s the Difference?

Richard Muller, in his Dictionary of Latin and Greek Theological Terms, defines sola Scriptura as “the principium cognoscendi, the principle of knowledge or cognitive foundation of theology, and described doctrinally in terms of its authority, clarity, and sufficiency in all matters of faith and morals.”[1] And the Second London Baptist Confession reads, “The Holy Scripture is the only sufficient, certain, and infallible rule of all saving knowledge, faith, and obedience, although the light of nature, and the works of creation and providence do so far manifest the goodness, wisdom, and power of God, as to leave men inexcusable; yet are they not sufficient to give that knowledge of God and his will which is necessary unto salvation.” (1.1)

These statements adequately portray the Reformational sentiment behind sola Scriptura.[2] Scripture is the highest authority and it is sufficient in all matters of faith and life. Dr. James Renihan summarizes the first portion of Confession 1.1 as follows, “The Holy Scripture is the only certain rule of all saving faith…”[3] Scripture is the principle of all saving knowledge. Apart from it, we could not know God as triune, Christ the Redeemer, justification by faith alone, or the institution of Christ’s church and churchly ordinances. We must understand the purpose of Scripture if we are to maintain its integrity. We do not want to under-realize Scripture, but we also do not want to over-realize Scripture. Both extremes represent Scriptural abuses. Scripture must be thought of and used according to Scripture’s own terms.

In neither statement above is Scripture described as the only authority. 2LBCF 1.1 mentions three other cognitive authorities in the very first sentence, “the light of nature, and the works of creation and providence…” The text the framers cite in support of this phrase is Romans 1:19-21, “For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without excuse…” Scripture further sanctions subordinate authorities in other places, the least of which is not the Proverbs, “Where there is no counsel, the people fall; But in the multitude of counselors there is safety.” (Prov. 11:14)

The principle of sola Scriptura, therefore, presupposes secondary authorities. Even the anchor text typically employed in defense of sola Scriptura assumes the usage of secondary authorities. In 2 Timothy 3:16-17, we read, “All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work.” The “man of God” is a type of secondary authority, commissioned to teach others, being himself subject to the Word of God. Preaching, teaching, creeds, confessions, commentaries, and other theological helps are all instances of secondary authorities because neither are themselves Scripture, though they transmit Scriptural meaning for the influence and edification of the church.

In all this, we affirm with the Confession that the Scripture is the only infallible interpreter of Scripture, “The infallible rule of interpretation of Scripture is the Scripture itself; and therefore when there is a question about the true and full sense of any Scripture (which is not manifold, but one), it must be searched by other places that speak more clearly.” (1.9) But also, those areas which seem less clear are to be discovered through the use of “ordinary means,” i.e. subordinate authorities, “All things in Scripture are not alike plain in themselves, nor alike clear unto all; yet those things which are necessary to be known, believed and observed for salvation, are so clearly propounded and opened in some place of Scripture or other, that not only the learned, but the unlearned, in a due use of ordinary means, may attain to a sufficient understanding of them.” (1.7)

On the other hand, Biblicism is an ever-shifting target. In recent times, it has been co-opted by well-meaning Christians in an effort to stave off what they perceive to be unbiblical accretions. In this case, I would stand with them but would abstain from using the term biblicist for reasons that should become clear in a moment. But even within this group, there are subgroups that apply biblicism to themselves in different ways. The term is also applied to the modern fundamentalists who outrightly deny the use of extra-biblical means in the pursuit of biblical truth, i.e. subordinate authorities. A strand of this kind of biblicism runs through IFB and Pentecostal circles. But it has also appeared more recently in self-professed Reformed Baptist ranks, particularly among those that affirm some kind of subordinationism in the Godhead.

The term “biblicist” or “biblicism” evidently first appeared in the 19th century, notably used by Jon Jacob van Oosterzees and Thomas Carlyle. Both men apparently use the term derogatorily. Oosterzees defines it as “idolatry of the letter,” in his Dogmatics.[4] Carlyle uses the term in passing, either to characterize those opposed to England’s Lord Protector in the 1650s or the opposition to the crown during the 1640s.

Biblicism was considered “idolatry of the letter” because it would tend to treat Scripture as any other document to the practical exclusion of the Holy Spirit and other metaphysical considerations. Biblicism tends to subject Scripture to the tools of literary science that it be interpreted as one might interpret Homer’s Iliad. Meaning is flattened into the purely etymological sense of the terminology as apprehended through the uncertain intentions of biblical human authorship, the understanding of the human audience, their historical context, and what the latest archeology might be able to tell us about the land, language, and loves of the culture. Modern mantras such as “No creed but the Bible” are examples of biblicism. Ironically, modern archeological or textual research is welcomed into the picture of biblical knowledge if it befits a favored doctrinal position. But Christian history is taken much less seriously.

There is usually no consideration of the fuller sense of the text nor any felt need to hold the individual Bible reader accountable to orthodox interpretational norms. Indeed, in its harsher forms, biblicism seems not to observe a standard orthodoxy at all. Every confession is a wax nose, and truth as we know it is in a constant state of flux.

More contemporarily, Christian Smith outlines the core beliefs of biblicism. While I wouldn’t necessarily endorse Smith’s book, I do think the following list accurately describes some tendencies in contemporary biblical hermeneutics. Beliefs 4-6 are most relevant to the subject matter of this article. They are listed as follows:

4. Democratic Perspicuity: Any reasonably intelligent person can read the Bible in his or her own language and correctly understand the plain meaning of the text.

5. Commonsense Hermeneutics: The best way to understand biblical texts is by reading them in their explicit, plain, most obvious, literal sense, as the author intended them at face value, which may or may not involve taking into account their literary, cultural, and historical contexts.

6. Solo Scriptura: The significance of any given biblical text can be understood without reliance on creeds, confessions, historical church traditions, or other forms of larger theological hermeneutical frameworks, such that theological formulations can be built up directly out of the Bible from scratch.[5]

Note, (4) opens the understanding to anyone and everyone, not simply the regenerate. They need only be a “reasonably intelligent person.” Hence, the project of reading and contemplating Scripture is practically identical to reading and contemplating any book. It is spiritually indifferent. Its truth is apprehended by the mere application of the literary-scientific tools of textual interpretation. The presence of the Holy Spirit, Christian virtue, and other Christian voices seem entirely irrelevant to the task of understanding Scripture. According to (5) deriving the meaning of the text depends upon our access to the circumstantial data of the human author, their intentions, and the interpretive tendency of their historically conditioned human audience. It would be nigh impossible for a child to understand Scripture truly without all of this background information. And in (6) solo Scriptura rather than sola Scriptura is observed to be a biblicist distinctive, meaning the Bible reader is without the need for any kind of supplement. All they need is themselves and their Bible.

To summarize this section: classically conceived, sola Scriptura presupposes secondary authorities or helps by which we are led to better understand Scripture. Scripture itself represents subordinate authorities as being in some sense necessary for each believer. Ordinarily, no believer can go it alone. Biblicism, on the other hand, in its softer form, could take or leave secondary authorities. In its harsher expression, it attempts a removal of secondary authorities altogether, including the growth of the church’s collective theological knowledge derived from the Scriptures over the past two millennia.

Sola Scriptura is the affirmation of the principle of saving faith, or true knowledge of God unto salvation, i.e. principium cognoscendi. Biblicism is an interpretive approach to the text of Scripture that emphasizes the individual Bible reader, usually to the exclusion of any meaningful interaction with secondary authorities. Sola Scriptura is not a hermeneutic, but a principle preceding our hermeneutics. Biblicism is a hermeneutic without any meaningful principles preceding it. Though some biblicists may claim to have antecedent principles to biblical interpretation, they are unable to justify those principles from the text which, on biblicist grounds, creates a blatant logical inconsistency.

The Nature of Secondary Authorities (Norma Normata or Testes Veritatis)

Included within the Protestant orthodox doctrine of sola Scriptura is the correct placement and use of tradition and with it all subordinate authoritative mediums. Far from denying or suppressing the reality of tradition or subordinate authoritative influence and teaching tools as biblicism tends to do, sola Scripture recognizes the need for secondary authorities as prescribed in the Scriptures themselves. At a minimum, man must assume the reliability of his own sense perception and the laws of logic. But he ordinarily assumes the credibility of his Bible translation, the existence of God, and so on. He assumes these things prior to ever approaching the text.

What is more, man is in need of other Christians, past and present, as interpretive helps. An individual man cannot hope to comprehend the “width and length and depth and height” of biblical truth apart from “all the saints.” (Eph. 3:18) The Holy Spirit works in individuals, but He also works in more than one individual. He has worked, does works, and will work through all His people. For this reason, God’s people are better together. That is, they are better when the faith of the many is allowed to strengthen the faith of the one. This happens most obviously and immediately in local churches but also at a grander level. 

Each individual local church must be found in common with those local churches that have preceded it in the truth of the Christian faith. Though some things will differ as to practice, every true church worships the same God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; they confess the same Word of God; they believe in the same incarnation and virgin birth; they confess the same gospel, and so on. Each local church must labor to show itself within that stream of Christian orthodoxy. Furthermore, if a church claims to be Reformed Baptist or Particular Baptist, it must find itself within the definitive stream of that peculiar tradition. It is fine if a church, by conviction, chooses not to be Reformed Baptist, but it can by no means claim the term “Reformed Baptist” unless it finds itself in the stream of Reformed Baptist orthodoxy set forth in the Confession.

However useful these secondary authorities are, we must make an important twofold qualification. First, these secondary authorities are subject to the text of Holy Writ. They can never rise to equality with or superiority to the Word of God. Second, these subordinate authorities do not reveal or proclaim anything substantially new in relation to what has already been revealed in Scripture. Secondary authorities merely help us understand and speak concerning that which is already there, i.e. “the faith which was once for all delivered to the saints,” through the Scriptures. (Jude 3) Secondary authorities are witnesses to the truth or testes veritatis.

Defining testes veritatis, Muller writes, “only the scriptural revelation can be the norm of doctrine, but the teachers and confessions of the church are aids in interpretation insofar as they are witnesses of the truth that manifests its presence and preservation in the life of the church.”[6] In his more expansive Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, what Muller observes is worth quoting at some length:

Granting the origins of the Reformation understanding of the biblical norm in the late medieval debate over Scripture and tradition, specifically in the trajectory of understanding that Oberman identified as “Tradition I,” Reformation-era and Reformed orthodox exegetes came to the task of biblical interpretation not as isolated scholars confronting the text armed only with the tools given to them by Renaissance-era philology. They also assumed the importance of the voice of the church, particularly in interpretive conversation, both positive and negative, with the living exegetical tradition: exegetes were advised, in manuals of interpretation, to consult commentaries in the older tradition, not as authorities in the Romanist sense but as sound sources of advice and precedent.[7]

These secondary sources do not represent additions to special revelation. They are witnesses which help us to understand and explain special revelation. The Reformed hold that tradition is a witness-tradition. As Thomas Watson writes, concerning the difficulty of interpreting some parts of the Bible, “The church of God has appointed some to expound and interpret Scripture; therefore he has given gifts to men. The several pastors of churches, like bright constellations, give light to dark Scriptures. Mal ii 7. ‘The priest’s lips should keep knowledge, and they should seek the law at his mouth.’”[8] Regarding tradition, this is different from Rome’s position which thinks of tradition not only as an interpretive authority but as an authority bearing additional revelatory content alongside Scripture, e.g. saints, feast days, Apocryphal literature, etc.

Tradition I, which is the Reformational view of the witness-tradition, follows a doctrine of sola Scriptura which entails the proper use of secondary authorities. Not a single Christian today reads the autographa, the original manuscripts of the Holy Bible. Every Bible reader today relies on apographa (manuscript copies of the original) and there is a measure of trust in the textual transmission of God’s Word through means of the literary tradition. Hence, secondary authority is inescapable at a very fundamental level.

Furthermore, tradition serves as an “ordinary means” to increase our understanding of Scriptural meaning. The Confession 1.7 reads:

All things in Scripture are not alike plain in themselves, nor alike clear unto all; yet those things which are necessary to be known, believed and observed for salvation, are so clearly propounded and opened in some place of Scripture or other, that not only the learned, but the unlearned, in a due use of ordinary means, may attain to a sufficient understanding of them.

Francis Turretin gives us some more insight into 17th century intent concerning “ordinary means” in this respect. In asking the question of the perspicuity of Scripture unto salvation, Turretin qualifies the question when he writes:

The question does not concern the perspicuity which does not exclude the means necessary for interpretation (i.e., the internal light of the Spirit, attention of mind, the voice and ministry of the church, sermons and commentaries, prayer and watchfulness). For we hold these means not only to be useful, but also necessary ordinarily. We only wish to proscribe the darkness which would prevent the people from reading the Scriptures as hurtful and perilous and compel them to have recourse to tradition when they might rest in the Scriptures alone.[9]

These various means are ordinarily necessary not as alternatives to Scripture but as faithful witnesses to the true sense of Scripture. They are ordinarily necessary because without them the believer could not progress in Scriptural knowledge in accord with his calling to do so, i.e. comprehension of biblical truth in concert with all the saints. (Eph. 3:14-19) Of course, there are extraneous circumstances in which a believer may be isolated from these means and yet given the grace to persevere, but this is not the ordinary circumstance.

A Brief Exegetical Case for Secondary Authorities

All the above concerning secondary authorities arises from natural, historical, and biblical considerations. My concern here is the third—biblical considerations. Scripture obligates the individual believer to first find himself within a larger whole. (Prov. 11:14; Eph. 3:14-19) Second, Scripture asserts the Christian’s remaining sin nature in the strongest of terms, which should leave the Christian humble and needing help. (Rom. 3:23) Third, there is an emphasis placed upon doctrinal confession throughout the New Testament. (1 Tim. 6:12; Heb. 4:14; 10:23; 1 Jn. 4:15; 2 Jn. 7)

First, there is no such thing as an isolated Christian in ordinary circumstances. Those who are isolated typically fall. Proverbs 11:14 says, “Where there is no counsel, the people fall; But in the multitude of counselors there is safety.” In His high priestly prayer, our Lord prays for the unity of His body, “that they may be one as We are.” (Jn. 17:11) The apostle Paul makes it very clear that we are to admonish one another. In Romans 15:14, he writes, “Now I myself am confident concerning you, my brethren, that you also are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge, able also to admonish one another.” And in Colossians 3:16 he issues a similar statement, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom, teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.” God’s people are not isolated individuals, but individuals in union with one another.

Second, every Christian has a remaining sin nature as is apparent from Paul’s words, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God…” (Rom. 3:23) This is a text written to believers. The phrase “have sinned” is in the aorist tense, but the phrase “fall short” is in the present tense. On account of their sin, believers currently fall short of God’s glory. Furthermore, in 1 John 1:8, the apostle John declares the continuation of sin in the believer, “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” 

Since this is the case, we are obligated to submit ourselves to an accountability structure, the use of which prevents our sin from determining our theology and practice. This accountability structure entails the adherence to the wisdom of those who preceded us, “Do not remove the ancient landmark Which your fathers have set.” (Prov. 22:28) The “old paths,” after all, are “where the good way is.” (Jer. 6:16) It entails the brothers and sisters at our local churches. (Col. 3:16; Heb. 10:24-25) And it entails the pastor-teachers which our Lord has instituted for our good. (1 Tim. 3:1-7; Heb. 13:17) It furthermore includes some creedal expression, a summary of the faith, or confession. (Heb. 10:23)

Third, In Hebrews 4:14 we read, “Seeing then that we have a great High Priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession.” How do we “hold fast our confession”? What is the medium by which we do this? We do so through confessions of faith. Confessions of faith are necessary since many who claim the “Bible as their only creed” do so while preaching and teaching heretical beliefs. They are not held accountable to an accepted expression of what their church believes the Bible actually teaches. A confession is an articulation of what churches believe the Bible teaches. They are churchly documents used as a means to guard doctrine and distinguish the faith of the church from errors and aberrations.

Men and churches who claim the Bible as their only creed leave themselves and others open to error—not because of the Bible, but because of their own sinfulness. As a result, the Bible becomes whatever they deem it to be. The meaning of Scripture is but a wax nose, subject to the molding of the preacher who himself may do whatever he wants with the text. The apostle Peter spoke of this problem:

…and consider that the longsuffering of our Lord is salvation—as also our beloved brother Paul, according to the wisdom given to him, has written to you, as also in all his epistles, speaking in them of these things, in which are some things hard to understand, which untaught and unstable people twist to their own destruction, as they do also the rest of the Scriptures. (2 Pet. 3:15-16)

“Untaught and unstable” men are those who, through ignorance and weakness either unintentionally or intentionally twist the text of Scripture. Each Bible reader should humbly admit his weakness, and with a humble posture seek out ordinary means by which he might further his understanding of God’s Word. Confessionalism, therefore, works to guard the meaning of the text. This guardianship of biblical meaning is commanded by the apostle, “O Timothy! Guard what was committed to your trust, avoiding the profane and idle babblings and contradictions of what is falsely called knowledge…” (1 Tim. 6:20) Like Timothy, we ought to guard what has been committed to us in the Scriptures.

Conclusion

To conclude, the distinction between sola Scriptura and biblicism is this: sola Scriptura is the affirmation of the principle of saving faith, or true knowledge of God unto salvation, i.e. principium cognoscendi. Biblicism is an interpretive approach to the text of Scripture that emphasizes the individual Bible reader, usually to the exclusion of any meaningful interaction with secondary authorities. Sola Scriptura is not a hermeneutic, but a principle preceding our hermeneutics. Biblicism is a hermeneutic without any meaningful principles preceding it. Though some biblicists may claim to have antecedent principles to biblical interpretation, they are unable to justify those principles from the text which, on biblicist grounds, creates a blatant logical inconsistency.

Furthermore, the classical doctrine of sola Scriptura, especially as it’s informed by the text of Scripture itself, entails the use of secondary or subordinate authorities which witness to the truth or meaning of the text of Scripture, the testes veritatis. (See above) These secondary authorities are derivative, and they only expound and explain Scripture. They do not bear additional revelation as Roman Catholicism would have it. They are influences upon Christians from generation to generation in their pursuit of biblical truth. Furthermore, secondary authorities, while helpful in the task of interpretation, are not themselves the only infallible interpreters of Holy Scripture. Only Scripture may hold that position.

Biblicism, on the other hand, could either take or leave altogether these secondary authorities depending upon who one might ask. But this seems to ignore several natural, historical, and biblical considerations. Natural, because man is cognitively and ethically limited. Historical, because Christ’s bride has always stated her orthodoxy in terms of creeds and confessions, authored commentaries, and has transmitted the very Word of God itself through translation and preservation. Biblical, because Scripture itself authorizes secondary authorities like a multitude of counselors, pastor-teachers, fellow believers, the voices from the past, creeds, and confessions.

Biblicism misses out on the fullness of God’s Word and the fullness of the practical life instituted by God’s Word for the good of God’s people.

Resources:

[1] Richard Muller, Latin and Greek Dictionary of Theological Terms, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2017), 338.

[2] The term sola Scriptura did not originate in the Reformation era, but appeared long before. (Cf. Renihan, To the Judicious and Impartial Reader, 59; Oberman, The Harvest of Medieval Theology, 365ff)

[3] James M. Renihan, To the Judicious and Impartial Reader, (Cape Coral, FL: Founders Press, 2022), 32.

[4] The Compact Edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, vol. I, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971), 846.

[5] Smith, Christian. The Bible Made Impossible (pp. 4-5). Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

[6] Muller, Latin and Greek Dictionary of Theological Terms, 356.

[7] Richard Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, vol. II, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2003), 483.

[8] Thomas Watson, A Body of Divinity, (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 2015), 31.

[9] Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, vol. I, (Phillipsburg, NJ: P & R Publishing, 1992), 144.