An Account of Credobaptism From Matthew 8

An Account of Credobaptism From Matthew 8

by | Jul 19, 2023 | Biblical Theology, Confessionalism, Hermeneutics

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?

by | Feb 20, 2023 | Biblical Theology, Confessionalism, Practical Theology

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.

 

Two Reasons In Favor Of Subordinate Authorities (Norma Normata)

Two Reasons In Favor Of Subordinate Authorities (Norma Normata)

by | Dec 21, 2022 | Confessionalism, Hermeneutics, Practical Theology

The doctrine of sola Scriptura is a declaration of Scriptural sufficiency. But as of late, one would think it also serves as a statement on man’s sufficiency. The doctrine of Scripture alone is often used to make provision for left-field interpretations of the text leading to heterodox conclusions. But the Christian was never designed to interpret the Bible in a vacuum. In fact, there are two main reasons why he should not try to do so. His own natural cognitive limitations and his remaining sin nature are two reasons why he must seek help from others, whether that be from creeds, confessions, or helpful biblical commentaries. Let me explain.

Man’s Cognitive Limitations

While Scripture itself is sufficient, the individual reader is not. Both natural cognitive limitation and sin explain why this is the case. Prior to discussing cognitive limitation, it is important to note the context. In this essay, the term “reader” intends a Christian (1) under the state of grace, (2) with remaining sin, and (3) having not reached the state of glory. And in this state of grace, the Christian is cognitively limited. For he has not the intellectual fortitude to apprehend the whole counsel of God to the same extent of the people of God over the last two millennia.

Dr. John Webster summarizes the problem well when he writes, “A second worry generalizes this emergency measure into a wholesale rejection of any shaping interpretation by the church’s accumulated exegetical learning, but makes its appeal not to the clarity of the Word but to the clarifying powers of the standardly rational reader.”[1] To clarify, the tendency Webster notes entails a rejection of subordinate authorities, e.g. the witness of the church, in favor of a supposed unadulterated reliance on Scripture. But really, should the individual reader reject the influence of his peers, he’s left with a reliance not upon Scripture alone, but upon his own cognitive abilities to interpret Scripture.

The cognitive periphery of the historical church is much wider than that of the individual. Hence, even John Calvin places more weight upon the decisions of councils than upon individuals.[2] Of course, as Baptists, we would acknowledge general assemblies to be more preferable than councils. A “council” tends to denote a bishopric hierarchy which Baptists would reject. But Calvin’s point is that there is more interpretive reliability in the whole rather than in the part abstracted from the whole. The more eyes on the text the better.

This should not be taken as an attempt to undermine sola Scriptura, but an application of humility in relation to the Christian’s natural limits. Having come to terms with his cognitive insufficiency, the Christian reader of Scripture may now humbly acknowledge his need for interpretive help. And that help will come from subordinate authorities bearing faithful witness to the meaning of Holy Scripture. Where a single mind fails, many minds succeed. Where cultural bias fails, the transcendence of the church’s historical witness succeeds.

Man’s Remaining Sin Nature

Not only is the Christian limited by cognitive abilities due to his relative finitude, he is also afflicted by a remaining sin nature. Whereas the first problem is ontological, consisting in man’s natural limitation, this second problem is ethical and raises the issue of the Christian’s inevitable disobedience in the state of grace. The Second London Baptist Confession (henceforth, 2LBCF) states:

When God converts a sinner, and translates him into the state of grace, he freeth him from his natural bondage under sin, and by his grace alone enables him freely to will and to do that which is spiritually good; yet so as that by reason of his remaining corruptions, he doth not perfectly, nor only will, that which is good, but doth also will that which is evil. (9.4; emphasis mine)

Given salvific grace and the operation of the Holy Spirit in the life of the Christian, the Christian still sins. As Thomas Boston notes, regeneration is “but an imperfect change.”[3] Misinterpretation and misapplication of Scripture are two ways in which sin continues to manifest in religious life. Scripture itself even goes so far as to assign ineffable depths to our sinful hearts in places like Jeremiah 17:9, “The heart is deceitful above all things, And desperately wicked; Who can know it?” And in Romans 3:23, speaking to Christians, the apostle Paul writes, “ for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God…” The present reality of sin invites the Christian to seek meaningful forms of accountability, all of which would be characterized as norma normata, or subordinate authorities. Subordinate authorities, such as a friend, a pastor, a congregation, creed, or confession are means of doctrinal accountability.

Furthermore, biblical interpretation ought to be seen as a moral act in subjection to the various modes of moral accountability ordained by God for the good of His people. Though the modern tendency is to compartmentalize biblical interpretation from human morality, Scripture itself makes the handling of Scripture a moral issue. Paul writes to Timothy, saying, “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.” (2 Tim. 2:15) The root term for “ashamed” (Gk. αισχρος) may translate to “dishonest,” or, “dishonorable.”[4]

In other words, if the worker has no need to be ashamed, it means he is honest or honorable. And in this case, the worker’s honorability is marked by his work in “rightly dividing the word of truth.” Proverbs 30:6 rebukes addition to the Word of God by saying, “Do not add to His words, Lest He rebukes you, and you be found a liar.” The way the Christian reader reads and handles Holy Scripture is a moral duty.

If the Christian must subject himself to moral accountability, and he must, then biblical interpretation is one thing among many concerning which he should seek help from others. This help comes from as many as would offer it. Proverbs 11:14 states, “Where there is no counsel, the people fall; But in the multitude of counselors there is safety.” Wherever the truth is available that is where it must be sought. This is especially the case with regard to the right interpretation of Scripture. Creeds, confessions, biblical commentaries, etc., are subordinate authorities intended to provide a true and accurate witness to the meaning of Scripture, and in so doing they provide a moral safeguard for Christians aspiring to sound biblical conclusions.[5]

Conclusion

Scripture is sufficient. There is no doubt as to this very fact. But man, in the state of grace, is both cognitively limited and continues to possess a remaining sin nature. For this reason, the individual Christian is much better off subjecting himself to trusted subordinate norms useful for helping him understand the sense of the text. God has ordained teachers in the church for this very reason. And the Proverbs admonish us to maintain a “multitude of counselors.” The Christian, as an individual can know Scripture as an individual, but by himself he is not ordinarily capable of understanding Scripture to the extent he might if he were to read Scripture with the rest of Christ’s people.

Resources

[1] John Webster, The Domain of the Word, (New York: Bloomsbury T & T Clark, 2012), 23.

[2] John Calvin, The Institutes of the Christian Religion, (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2008), 777.

[3] Thomas Boston, Human Nature in Its Fourfold State, (Carlisle: Banner of Truth, 2015), 209.

[4] Joseph Henry Thayer, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament: Being Grimm’s Wilke’s Clavis Novi Testamenti (New York: Harper & Brothers., 1889), 17.

[5] It is not my purpose here to delineate or defend what I believe to be the most faithful confession. Rather, the argument is here in favor of the general use of such subordinate authorities. The issue of which subordinate authority to use is downstream from this argument. It must first be established that subordinate authorities are acceptable and that’s what I’m seeking to do here.

Trading the Lord’s Day for… Christmas?

Trading the Lord’s Day for… Christmas?

by | Dec 13, 2022 | Confessionalism, Elenctic Theology, Public Theology

The Gospel Coalition (of course) recently published an article by Fletcher Lang in which Lang defends his church’s decision to cancel services on Sunday, December 25. The article is in response to an earlier piece written by Kevin DeYoung admonishing pastors to hold Lord’s Day services regardless of its “conflict” with Christmas. One has to either laugh or cry at the dialectic represented by The Gospel Coalition’s efforts to actually discuss whether canceling church on Christmas day is a viable option by any standard of ecclesiastical orthodoxy. It shouldn’t even be considered a debate. 

Yet, here we are.

In his article, Lang walks through two main points to try and substantiate his church’s decision to cancel services on Christmas. Below, I would like to test each of these points for biblical wisdom and rationale.

Point #1: “Our Context Makes a Christmas Day Service Uniquely Difficult”

This is not an argument. It’s a bad rhetorical statement. The thoughtful reader should easily pick up on the subjective nature of language like “our context.” What is Lang’s context? The Boston, MA metro, secular neighbors, a rented space, and a “transient” culture—by which he means, “many of our most committed members are traveling around the country or world for Christmas and are unable to run set up chairs and run sound.”

So, it’s logistics? And it’s not just logistics, it’s (mostly) unnecessary logistics. Lang has 100 people at his church plant. One to three people could set up 100 chairs within 20 minutes. Sound? Audio/visual has always been a convenience, not a necessity. How did all those poor churches in the 1800s (and prior) survive without artificial audio projection!

Now, aside from the obvious holes in Lang’s reasoning, Scripture hardly qualifies when it commands the assembling of God’s people. (Heb. 10:24-25) Sure, there are providential hindrances that result in a missed service here and there for some, but these are actual hindrances, not self-imposed obstacles or less-than-ideal circumstances. Consider the early church. One only needs to read through the first few pages of Foxe’s Book of Martyrs to see how the “context” of the early church made things difficult for Christian assembly. 

And yet those saints of old assembled notwithstanding the threats to their lives or the lives of their families. The modern “church” isn’t built that way. If Christmas is an obstacle, persecution would be insurmountable!

Our culture of ease and entitlement has made our sense of conviction exceedingly dull.

Point #2: “There’s Scriptural Freedom”

Lang claims that “we have freedom to meet or not on special Sundays like this.” The issue here has to do with Scriptural authority. Who made the Sunday in question “special”? God or man? Where in Scripture is any other day except the Lord’s Day instituted by God, especially in terms of New Testament worship? Lang’s “liberty” is tantamount to a denial of the perpetuity of the 4th commandment, “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” (Ex. 20:8) The Second London Baptist Confession reads:

The sabbath is then kept holy unto the Lord, when men, after a due preparing of their hearts, and ordering their common affairs aforehand, do not only observe an holy rest all day, from their own works, words and thoughts, about their worldly employment and recreations, but are also taken up the whole time in the public and private exercises of his worship, and in the duties of necessity and mercy. (22.8)

We should be quick to confess the doctrine of Christian liberty, but we should be careful not to use that liberty as a pretense for sin.

Hebrews 10:25, which Lang cites, is not simply the prohibition of habitual absence from church on the Lord’s Day. It’s a regulatory commandment. It’s a commandment because even though the “let us” in v. 24 is in the subjunctive, it functions imperatively since it regulates religious behavior. The “assembling of ourselves together” is integral to an ordinary pattern of Christian worship. The “manner of some” is to neglect that pattern. They have made a custom out of neglecting the Lord’s Day. This may be a weekly, monthly, or an annual pattern of negligence. The text does not specify. The point here is the establishment of a religious norm according to which the people of God are to live—regular worship on the Lord’s Day, the first day of the week.

Lastly, Lang tries to apply the principle of Christian liberty from Romans 14:5-7. He says, “We all agree Christmas Day is a special day. It’s not ‘just another Sunday.’” But not everyone agrees with this. Liberty cuts both ways. While Christians may have the liberty to esteem Christmas day as a special day, and I believe they do, they also have the liberty to maintain the ordinary pattern for Christian worship even if it falls on Christmas day, and this is what Lang doesn’t seem to realize. He and the elders of his church are subtly requiring that all 100 members of their congregation forgo ordinary worship at their church on the Lord’s Day in observance of Christmas Day—a man-made holiday.

Under pretense of “Christian liberty” Lang’s church, and others like it, are binding the consciences of those who believe they ought to be able to worship God on Sunday, December 25 at their home church. Lang and company are using their “liberty” to infringe upon the liberty of others.

But this isn’t even the most salient point. The weightier matter is canceling a God-ordained day in favor of a man-ordained day. And this is a travesty. Even if all 100 members of Lang’s church wanted to shut the doors on December 25, that’s simply not a decision man gets to make.

Conclusion

While many Christians will no-doubt celebrate Christmas with their families, we must remember that Christmas observance is an extracurricular activity and is not part of biblically-ordained Christian worship. God has ordained one day, marked by the resurrection of the incarnate Son, which is to be observed until the end of the ages, and that is the Lord’s Day. And the Lord’s Day ought not be supplanted by either secular affairs or man-made customs. Such would be to disobey the Scriptural pattern of ordinary Christian worship.

The Sufficiency of Scripture, the Insufficiency of Man

The Sufficiency of Scripture, the Insufficiency of Man

by | Nov 1, 2022 | Confessionalism, Ecclesiology, Hermeneutics, Practical Theology

Scripture, tradition, and the relationship between the two—it’s a conversation that needs to be had.

But the present manifestation of this conversation includes two sides talking past one another in a big way. One reason for this is the emerging divergence between two very different epistemologies. Presuppositionalism, broadly speaking—with its idealist DNA—makes Scripture the epistemological starting point of the Christian individual. Man’s idea of Scripture and Scripture itself are nearly the same. And this results in very little attention paid to man’s insufficiency once Scripture is presupposed as sufficient. It is generally assumed that the individual Christian has sole right in determining the proper interpretation of any given verse, chapter, or book of the Bible. Hence, the disdain of some for the tradition.

The classical Reformed position, on the other hand, understands there to be a distinction between Scripture as a source for our theology and our theology as it exists in the fallible mind. In other words, the fount of man’s theology is the text of Scripture, the principium cognoscendi, and man’s theology derives from that principle in an imperfect manner. (1 Cor. 13:12) This means Scripture is presupposed, but it is presupposed as a principle that leads to conclusions drawn by the fallible intellect. Naturally, therefore, we can admit these theological conclusions drawn from biblical exegesis to be fallible as well, while the source itself, Scripture, is infallible. Subsequently, a team effort in biblical interpretation becomes a needful service.

Scripture & the Tradition

Given the above explication, we should be readily able to see why the presuppositional milieu seems so allergic to the ministerial authority of tradition. Man presupposes the Scriptures in such a way that there’s functionally no difference between Scripture and man’s knowledge of Scripture. This cashes out in an infallible presupposition, or an infallible idea in man. In this one area, the knowledge of man is raised to an apostolic quality of infallibility. If Scripture is infallible, and there is no distinction between Scripture itself and man’s idea of it, man’s idea is infallible. And thus, it is no longer subject to peer scrutiny, say, from the tradition. It’s a simple matter of applying the law of identity and following the implications.

On the other hand, if classicalism is true, and Scripture acts as a perfect reservoir for our  imperfect theological knowledge, it follows that we might maintain Scripture’s unique attribute of infallibility while at the same time admitting man’s fallibility. And this leads us to the good and necessary use of secondary authorities. If man is fallible, he needs help to understand the infallible Scriptures aright. Biblical interpretation is not purely an individual exercise. It requires the Holy Spirit, as He works in the individual, but also as He has worked in believers past and present. Francis Turretin writes:

When we dispute at any time from the fathers against our adversaries, we use them only as witnesses, to approve by their vote the truth believed by us and to declare the belief of the church in their time. We do not use them as judges whose opinion is to be acquiesced in absolutely and without examination and as the standard of truth in doctrines of faith or in the interpretation of the Scriptures.[1]

In other words, while the fathers are not determinative of biblical meaning, as Rome conceived of them, they are witnesses unto the truth. They are the Democracy of the Dead. The peer review of theological discourse.

But not even this minimalized view of tradition may be granted if indeed our presupposition of the Scriptures is one and the same with the Scriptures themselves. If this is the case, to criticize the presupposer is to criticize what is presupposed. If Scripture and our idea of Scripture are identical, then subjecting ourselves to the voice of history is as bad as subjecting Scripture itself to the voice of men! In this scheme, to make man accountable to other men is to make Scripture accountable to man.

The Protestant View of Tradition

During the Reformation, two different views of tradition were forcefully advanced. There was “tradition 1” (T1), which taught the magisterial authority of Scripture, the meaning of which is witnessed by ministerial authorities, like creeds, confessions, the early church fathers, and biblical commentators. But “tradition 2” (T2) taught that there were two magisterial authorities, Scripture and tradition—the latter being able to create doctrines not found in the former. In the modern discourse, a “tradition 3” (T3) seems to emerge which rejects the place of tradition in theology entirely. Charitably, we might credit the (T3) position with maintaining a use for tradition, but what that use is is not abundantly clear. On (T3), tradition may be interesting, but it isn’t authoritative in any measure, and it rarely maps to the church’s contemporary situation.

For example, in a recent journal article, James White writes:

Just as in the days of the Reformation, citations and counter-citations of earlier church writings appear in the battles of our own day, whether in reference to the positions of Rome, Eastern Orthodoxy, or any other system that claims to honor both Scripture and other external sources of authority (whether those sources are necessary for the interpretation of Scripture or whether they exist as co-equal or even superior authorities alongside of Scripture). But it is here that we must insist upon this maxim: Let the early church fathers be the early church fathers. That is, we must allow them to speak in their own context, to their own battles, in their own language. We cannot demand that they answer our questions and engage in our conflicts, nor can we assume that the battles back then were identical in form and substance to ours today. It is far, far too easy to abuse historical sources in the service of a cause or a movement. Rome has done this, and has done so authoritatively, by claiming her dogmas have been the “constant faith of the church” down through the ages. But Protestants, free of the dogmatic constraints of Rome’s infallible pronouncements, can still emphasize a particular lens through which the statements of earlier generations and previous centuries are filtered, giving a distorted view of earlier theologians’ actual beliefs. Ironically, such modern lenses are often constructed with carefully selected citations of the fathers by contemporary historians who insist that they are, in fact, simply walking in the tradition that has come down to them.[2]

Apparently, there is a severance between our time and their time. The issues they dealt with were their issues, and the issues we deal with are ours. The implication is startling. Their doctrinal conclusions were formed from issues unique to their time. And this leaves the reader scratching his head, asking, “Are their doctrinal conclusions to be left behind, as unique to their own day, as were their theological disputes?” Of course, Ecclesiastes 1:9 tells us there is nothing new under the sun. So, one has to wonder what White intends to achieve by seemingly isolating the fathers and their problems to their historical context.

Furthermore, White’s engagement of his interlocutors simply fails to remark upon crucial aspects of (T1) and the Reformational doctrine of Sola Scriptura as the norma normans over subordinate authorities, norma normata. The “contemporary historians,” though not named in the above quote, presumably includes the historians and theologians White has been interacting with over the last year—a year which no doubt contextualizes the entire journal issue in which White’s article appears. And those particular historians and theologians, as far as I can tell, do not accept White’s presupposition that historical figures are adopted as idealistic “lenses” through which Scripture must be filtered. It has been unequivocally stated that Scripture is the source and principle of true theological knowledge, and that this source of knowledge is a document read by the Holy Spirit-filled individual with Holy Spirit-filled voices from the past. To use Turretin’s language, employment of the creeds, confessions, and historical commentary is the employment of “witnesses”—other minds which demonstrate that we ourselves are not going it alone.

The Insufficiency of Man

This brings me to what should be an elephant in the room: the insufficiency of man. Fundamental to the task of theology is the theologian’s humble acknowledgment of his own inadequacy. He has a keen awareness of Romans 3:23, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” noting especially the present tense of his fallenness in that text. He confesses that his heart is accurately diagnosed by Jeremiah when he writes, “The heart is deceitful above all things, And desperately wicked; Who can know it?” (Jer. 17:9)

Because of man’s inadequacy, the Holy Spirit turns the Christian to his fellow man, “Without counsel, plans go awry, But in the multitude of counselors they are established.” (Prov. 15:22) Through consort with his brothers, he gains a wider periphery. A single man can see, but many men can see more. He also gains accountability, and is less likely to chart his own, novel path. Heretics, though claiming love for the Scriptures, gain nothing but their own innovative opinions leading to their spiritual shipwreck. A helmsman needs a navigator to chart the sea.

Conclusion

Once we acknowledge the difference between the primacy and adequacy of the Scriptures versus our own inadequacy, we will clearly begin to see the need for a “multitude of counselors” when it comes to biblical interpretation and theological formulation. So long as Scripture and our commitment to it are seen as one and the same (some corners of presuppositionalism), man’s insufficiency figures less into the exegetical picture. So long as Scripture and man’s idea of it are the same, Scripture’s adequacy and man’s adequacy are one and the same. The result is an unfalsifiable, individual Bible interpreter that sets himself above the collective voice of the historical church. A self-made pope.

For these reasons, it would be best to understand Scripture as sufficient, man as inadequate, Scripture as chiefly authoritative, and tradition as a ministerial aid to man’s intellectual and ethical handicaps.

Resources:

[1] Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, vol. I, (Phillipsburg: P & R Publishing, 1992), 163.

[2] James White, “What Is Sola Scriptura,” Pro Pastor,Vol. 1, No. 1, FALL 2022, A Journal of Grace Bible Theological Seminary, 3-4.

Losing the Legacy of Orthodoxy

Losing the Legacy of Orthodoxy

by | Sep 29, 2022 | Confessionalism, Eschatology, Politics, Public Theology, Social Justice

In the face of rampant cultural and philosophical sophistry, Paul concludes his first letter to Timothy by writing, “O Timothy! Guard what was committed to your trust, avoiding the profane and idle babblings and contradictions of what is falsely called knowledge—by professing it some have strayed concerning the faith.” (1 Tim. 6:20-21) The ESV calls it “the good deposit.” This “good deposit” is nothing less than the gospel itself, the apostolic doctrine of the New Testament, the full exposition of the types and shadows revealed in the Old. In 2 Timothy 1:13-14, Paul further clarifies what he means, “Hold fast the pattern of sound words which you have heard from me, in faith and love which are in Christ Jesus. That good thing which was committed to you, keep by the Holy Spirit who dwells in us.”

Over the past three years, I’ve grown increasingly concerned that the movement against social justice has itself become a social justice movement covered in Christian bumper stickers. Liberal churches and organizations are typically marked by a forfeiture of the “good deposit” in favor of political and social change. And while the anti-social justice movement credits the gospel as being the wind behind its sails, it’s actually just arguing and pushing for nothing more than natural political and social goods. Whereas pagans or Christians can fight for these natural political and social goods, and have throughout history, we have to be careful to distinguish the gospel from positive upticks in political and social ethics. Otherwise, we lose the legacy of a distinctly Christian orthodoxy within which alone is found the gospel of man’s reconciliation to a holy God through the blood and righteousness of the incarnate Son.

Defining the Issue

A brief definition of my protest is this: The kingdom is not the presence nor expansion of natural goods. While the kingdom of grace perfects nature, the improvement of nature isn’t necessarily indicative of the presence of the kingdom of God. There is something about the kingdom of God that further distinguishes it from common goods. My concern can be found in the words of Joel Webbon, founder and host at Right Response Ministries and pastor to Covenant Bible Church in Georgetown, Texas. In a podcast titled, ‘Christian Stir-Fry | 3 Spheres, 2 Kingdoms, 1 King’, he says:

If we cure cancer right um if you know all these things are pushing back the kingdom of darkness, but it’s not just um because someone got saved. And so Joe Boot says like the church and the kingdom are not synonymous. There’s massive overlap, but they’re not a one-to-one ratio synonymous. The church only numerically grows one way: conversion. But the kingdom of God grows every time the good, the true, and the beautiful—those things which align with the law of God and the gospel of God—are furthered and pressed forward in any sphere of human society. And so nobody could get saved and (now I believe it would lend towards salvation), but initially, no one could actually get saved, so the church did not numerically grow, um but a good law was passed—the kingdom is advancing and the kingdom advancing in these other spheres in all of life, it lends towards um the advancement of the church.[1]

Webbon lists a few things that he believes indicate an expansion of the kingdom of God: (1) curing cancer, (2) when the good, true, and beautiful are furthered in any societal sphere, (3) the passing of a good law.

This concerns me, for the simple reason that none of these things require the preaching or the proliferation of the “good deposit” mentioned above. That’s the issue.

Responding to the Issue

All of the stuff Webbon cites as indications of the kingdom’s expansion happens or can conceivably happen in a society that’s never even heard the gospel before. So even if the gospel is credited with affecting these changes, these changes aren’t distinct to the gospel, and may occur without the gospel as well as with it. That is to say, if these things are gospel benefits, but can also occur apart from the gospel, it follows that these gospel benefits are available to the natural man as well as to the Christian. It’s a lurking universalism that arbitrarily excludes other gospel benefits such as justification, sanctification, and glory.

In fact, if Webbon’s words were consistently applied to world history, the Persian, Grecian, and Roman empires were break-throughs of the kingdom of God because, as Webbon says, “the kingdom of God grows every time the good, the true, and the beautiful… are furthered and pressed forward in any sphere of human society.” And those empires, in spite of their rampant paganism, had objectively just laws, objectively beautiful art, and objectively beautiful architecture, along with a healthy and objectively true understanding of the physical form of the human body.

In an earlier part of the podcast, Webbon speaks with Brian Sauve about two-kingdom theology. During the interchange, Sauve takes issue with the notion of the “common kingdom,” (as opposed to the redemptive kingdom) when he says:

The problem is that as soon as you take that common kingdom and say it’s not ruled by Scripture, and christians aren’t necessarily, therefore, going to have a leavening effect on any of it, you’ve actually just divorced the transformational effect of christianity from everything outside of the four walls of the church.

But the design of common/redemptive kingdom semantics is the preservation of the redemptive kingdom, and with it, the preservation of the gospel that alone produces it. Furthermore, two-kingdom adherents do not and have never claimed “christians aren’t necessarily, therefore, going to have a leavening effect on any of it…” The design of two-kingdom theology is to observe the distinction, not separation, between nature on the one hand and grace on the other. If nature is lifted by grace, that’s all well and good. But if grace is collapsed into nature, we’ve lost the gospel. And this collapse is what is at least implied by Webbon’s words above. Anything that happens in the natural world which is true, good, and beautiful is an effect of the gospel even if the gospel isn’t present.

The next logical step is to ask, “Why do we need the gospel unto salvation if its effects are produced by the passing of good laws and pretty pictures?” If the kingdom of God’s gospel may be expanded without anything occurring distinct to what Christ has purchased on the cross, then the kingdom of God, along with its gospel, has been made common. Hence the need to distinguish carefully between the common and redemptive kingdoms.

Natural & Supernatural Revelation

Joe Boot, in his book Mission of God, takes issue with the secular/sacred distinction, counting it a type of dualism that results in the removal of Christianity from society. And this is, no doubt, a concern for Webbon and Sauve as well. Christ’s universal Lordship is suggested as an alternative. Boot writes:

Because we have increasingly done what [Abraham] Kuyper decries, and separated life into two parts or storeys, the sacred and secular, personal and public, spiritual and immaterial, one part for ourselves and the other for God, the ‘toleration’ of sin in the ‘lower storey’ (an alleged sphere outside God’s direct moral authority for ourselves) has become a practical virtue.[2]

While I can agree with Boot that “secular” is not the best term given our modern vocabulary, it is a term used to some advantage throughout history. For example, the Second London Baptist Confession states that ministers of the gospel should be enabled to minister “without being themselves entangled in secular affairs…” (26.10) William Bates, an English Presbyterian minister in the 17th century, says, “Now when secular interest outweighs duty, when apparent danger induces to deny the truth of Christ; how terrible and unavoidable will be the punishment of that disloyalty?”[3] One wonders how the fear of danger drives the current reactionary impulse toward blending secular and sacred together, and whether Bates’ ominous observation is actually prophetic of our own day. Is the gospel being lost in this movement represented by Webbon and others? Are we losing the legacy of orthodoxy?

The term “secular” is not historically associated with licentiousness, as Boot thinks of the term. It was, rather, useful in distinguishing the ways, means, and circumstances in which God deals uniquely with His people from the ways, means, and circumstances by which He governs the natural world at large. There is a distinction between these two things. And if that distinction is blurred, then God’s unique dealings with His people, through the gospel, will be swallowed up by concerns over the natural world. As Bates puts it, the “secular interests outweigh” our actual duties as God’s blood-bought people.

However, the importance of this may be more readily seen if we distinguish along revelatory and theological lines. Natural revelation is the revelation of God and His will through the medium of the natural world and in the consciences of all men. (Rom. 1:18-20; 2:14) Supernatural revelation is that revelation of God and His will through the Scriptures. The Scriptures, while assuming and repeating much of what is found in nature, offers revelation of God and His will that reaches beyond what’s available through mere creation. Natural and supernatural theologies correspond to these two types of revelation, describing the kind of knowledge man has of God derived from the two natural and supernatural revelatory sources, respectively.

What is revealed through nature is God’s. What is revealed through Scripture is God’s. In other words, what is secular is God’s, and what is sacred is God’s. Still, in other words, what is “common kingdom” is God’s, and what is “redemptive kingdom” is God’s. See the correspondence? The distinction is not nature versus God. The distinction is nature and supernature representing two distinct modes of revelation, from which man knows God naturally and supernaturally, corresponding to two distinct, yet complimentary, ways in which God governs the world.

All things are God’s, “Now all things are of God.” (2 Cor. 5:18) But all things must be distinguished. Natural law and positive law are God’s—but they must be distinguished. Preambles and articles of the faith are God’s—but they must be distinguished. The world and all its goods common to all people and the kingdom of God both belong to God—but those two things must be distinguished. Civil improvement and the distinct effects of the gospel to establish God’s kingdom and thereby redeem man both belong to God—but they must be distinguished, lest we lose the latter within the former.

Conclusion

To be clear, I’m not accusing any of the men I mention above of heresy or believing a false gospel unto their own destruction. I think many of these men love Christ, and desire the proliferation of the true gospel throughout the world. However, I am concerned with the inevitable, and often inadvertent, progress of these types of things. If we’re looking for political and social improvement, that’s what we will work for. But working for political and social improvement doesn’t at all require gospel ministry, not the kind of improvement mentioned by Webbon, that is. And that’s a big part of my concern. We will begin to let the sword of the gospel drag on the ground as we hold high the prospect of civil goods. Civil goods believed to be indicative of “kingdom advancement.” And if civil goods are kingdom advancement, and kingdom advancement is the goal of Christian evangelism, then what need is there for the gospel at all?

Resources

[1]  I’ve slightly edited this quote for readability, but have changed as little as possible. The original can be heard by clicking this time-stamped link: https://youtu.be/24zjrzVAFvU?t=449

[2] Joe Boot, Mission of God, (London: Wilberforce Publications, 2016), 79.

[3] William Bates, The Whole Works of the Rev. William Bates, ed. W. Farmer, vol. 2 (Harrisonburg, VA: Sprinkle Publications, 1990), 247–251.