The Need for Creeds & Confessions — 3 Reasons

The Need for Creeds & Confessions — 3 Reasons

by | Mar 7, 2025 | Biblical Theology, Christology, Confessionalism, Ecclesiology, Historical Theology, Practical Theology, Systematic Theology

Over the last 200 years or so, the use of creeds and confessions has become a controversial issue. There are several reasons for this. To the ears of those having come out from Roman Catholicism, the language of “creeds” and “confessions” sounds, well, Roman Catholic. Others have more technical concerns. Creeds and confessions, it is widely believed, can and often do undermine the general Protestant conviction that Scripture alone is the ultimate source of revelation for Christian faith and life. On these grounds, creeds and confessions should either be disregarded or otherwise carefully qualified, e.g., “creeds are helpful, but Scripture is my only authority.”

In this article, I want to discuss three reasons why creeds and confessions, in principle, are necessary for churches. And why the above concerns originate from theological and historical misunderstandings of the nature and function of credal and confessional documents.

First: Every Christian Has a Creed and Confession

Perhaps the strongest and most obvious reason, if not proof, for why creeds and confessions are necessary in principle is that every Christian has a creed and confession. Either Christians have their very own customized creed and confession to fit their individual doctrinal preferences, or they’ve adopted one or more of the ancient creeds and confessions framed by our spiritual ancestors.

The same goes for churches. Either a church structures its own credal and confessional documents according to what seems right to it, or it has chosen to adopt preexisting creeds and confessions penned over the last 1,700 years.

The point here is that everyone has a creed and confession.

“No. I don’t have a creed or a confession,” one might say, “I follow the Bible alone.” This is a common objection to the above observation. However, even those who hold this perspective usually draw conclusions about Scriptural meaning as they read and interpret the Bible, and they typically have little hesitancy in summarizing their beliefs either verbally or in writing. When a person is asked, “What do you believe about God, Christ, the gospel, the church, etc.?” the likely response is a summary of beliefs about those particular areas of Christian theology. This is a tell-tale sign that the person answering has a creed, whether acknowledged or not.

When a pastor preaches Scripture, he doesn’t simply read the text. He exposits the meaning of the words in the text so that the congregation can understand what the Scripture says. Likewise, creeds and confessions reflect the meaning of Scripture for the convenience of corporate confession of the faith, the understanding of the laity, and the preservation of biblical truth.

Second: Scripture Itself Requires Creeds and Confessions

The Greek term often translated to “confession” in Scripture is ὁμολογία. The root word of this term is λεγω, which means “to say” or “to tell.” The biblical witness to the principle of confessing the faith is why many churches throughout the ages have recited creeds within their orders of worship. “Saying” or “telling” the faith is an apostolic practice.

For example, the apostle Paul, writing to Timothy, says, “Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, to which you were also called and have confessed the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.” (1 Tim. 6:12) This practice of confessing the faith outwardly, or externally declaring what believers believe, stretches back to Deuteronomy 6:4 in the Shema, “The LORD our God, the LORD is one!”

In Hebrews 3:1, the author writes, “Therefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, consider the Apostle and High Priest of our confession, Christ Jesus…” And again, in 4:14, “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.” Confessing the faith is even linked with salvation in Romans 10:9, “if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.”

Following the apostolic era, several heresies arose that required the simple statements in Scripture to be defended through the adaptation of theological grammar. The 4th century heretic, Arius, rejected the Son’s consubstantiality with the Father. For Arius and his followers, the Son was the highest created being, but a created being nonetheless. Thus, in a good-faith effort to preserve the Scriptural teaching concerning the Son’s deity, the Council of Nicaea developed the Nicene Creed. This Creed was and is substantially Scriptural in all its parts, but it used language that would prevent heretics from exploiting more basic scriptural statements to the detriment of their souls and the souls of others.

Hence, following Arius, who himself claimed to confess with his mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in his heart that God raised Him from the dead, the question arose, “Who is Jesus?” The purpose of the Nicene Creed was to answer this very question while preventing the perversion of the biblical grammar by heretics. Those who claimed to be Christians could not reject the language of the Nicene Creed, not because the Creed itself possessed an inherent authority above or beside Scripture, but because it was nothing more than a reflection of the aggregate biblical data concerning the Son of God. If those professing to be Christians rejected the Nicene Creed, the early Christians could easily conclude that said professors had a different Jesus. (Lk. 17:22-23; 1 Jn. 2:18)

In Romans 15:5, the apostle Paul says, “Now may the God of patience and comfort grant you to be like-minded toward one another, according to Christ Jesus…” Scripture makes creeds and confessions necessary by commanding like-mindedness toward one another — an impossibility without formal doctrinal standards.

Third: Creeds and Confessions Unify Churches

Many believe that “doctrine divides” and that creeds and confessions exclude more than they include those with differing theological opinions. In a sense, the creeds and confessions indeed exclude. This is part of their design. The goal of creeds and confessions is to exclude doctrinal error and heresy while including doctrinal truth, thereby preserving the teaching of Scripture as understood by the faith community.

The way this works within an ecclesiastical setting should not be missed. A church needs a way to distinguish and preserve its beliefs about what Scripture teaches. More recently, a popular way to do this is through broad summaries of general beliefs, or “statements of faith,” largely designed to accommodate, as much as possible, those holding diverse theological opinions. 

The problem with this method is that it allows one to seemingly affirm basic statements that no professing Christian would disagree with while, at the same time, holding more nuanced doctrinal aberrations. For example, some statements of faith define the Trinity simply as “One God in three Persons.” But a functional tritheist could trivially hold to this statement while also saying, “This one God is made up of three Persons, each of whom possess its own will, consciousness, substance, nature, etc.” Functionally, this represents the belief that the “one God” is actually a conglomerate of three distinct beings or gods, i.e., the heresy of tritheism.

However, this problem is mitigated by a more precise confessional statement, such as what we find in 2.1 of the Second London Confession (2LCF), which reads, “In this divine and infinite Being there are three subsistences, the Father, the Word or Son, and Holy Spirit, of one substance, power, and eternity, each having the whole divine essence, yet the essence undivided…” This language builds on the credal language set forth by the early church. For instance, in the Athanasian Creed, we read:

Now this is the catholic faith:

    That we worship one God in trinity and the trinity in unity,

    neither blending their persons

    nor dividing their essence.

Creeds and confessions unify churches on the truth of what they believe Scripture teaches. They are designed to exclude those who would deviate from orthodoxy and include those who share the same doctrinal convictions. They are unifying documents that produce and preserve a unity founded upon a mutual concern for theological accuracy.

More pointedly, creeds and confessions are necessary for church unity. After all, how could a church unite upon the doctrine of God, Christ, or the gospel if every member in that church had a different conception of such essential doctrines? Any unity they may have would be apparent unity, not unity founded upon like-mindedness in the truth.

The Term “Reformed”: A Hill to Die On?

The Term “Reformed”: A Hill to Die On?

by | Jan 29, 2024 | Historical Theology, Practical Theology

Whether Baptists are called “Reformed” or not isn’t something self-professing Reformed Baptists ought to be willing to die over. 

The term is inconsequential to the substance of our theology as long as “Reformed Baptist” means a confessing Baptist subscribing to the Second London Confession (1677). This is, after all, everything that is usually meant by the term “Reformed Baptist.” Some utilize the term more broadly, describing Baptists who believe in the more basic doctrines of grace or the five points of Calvinism. The point here is that the term “Reformed” has come to signify Baptists who, like the designers of the Confession, find “hearty agreement” with their Westminster Reformed brethren “in that wholesome Protestant doctrine which, with so clear evidence of Scriptures, they have asserted.”

Still, some holdouts believe the term “Reformed” is improperly applied to Baptists altogether, identifying the term “Reformed” with belief in infant baptism. No matter how much agreement Baptists have with the Westminster Confession of Faith, rejection of infant baptism along with distinct covenant theology and ecclesiology is enough to disqualify them from properly applying the term “Reformed” to themselves. Take, for example, R. Scott Clark’s blog post from 2022, “There Is No Credo Baptist Heidelberg Catechism or Why Hercules Collins Was Not Reformed.” In this article, he writes:

For some years I have complained about Baptist squatters in the Reformed house. These are those Baptists who insist on re-defining the adjective Reformed. As it turns out, however, this habit of squatting is not new at all. Indeed, one of the earliest examples occurred in 1680.[1]

In the above-quoted article, Clark attempts to make the point that the term “Reformed” is functionally reducible to the practice of infant baptism, a la. the Westminster Confession of Faith (WCF). But I want to argue that this wrangling over words isn’t helpful for the advancement of confessional and even pastoral theology. (1 Tim. 6:4) In this article, I would like to give a few reasons why some sectors of this debate are not helpful while showing how Baptists, if they so choose, can use the term “Reformed” without the worry of applying a misnomer.

Reason #1: Clark’s Argument Can Be Equally Applied to His Own Position From the Perspective of Other Traditions

Surely, a Roman Catholic could accuse Clark—and with him the entirety of the Westminsterian tradition—of committing the same error in his use of the term “paedobaptist.” The Westminster Confession and Savoy Declaration are nearly alone in their affirmations of a paedobaptism that does not result in regeneration. Even other Protestant traditions, such as Lutheranism, affirm a kind of baptismal regeneration. Neither the WCF nor the Savoy Declaration do this. The Westminster paedobaptists are, therefore, unique in their handling of the “first sacrament” from a paedobaptist perspective.

The argument, then, from the perspective of Rome—along with the Lutherans (and perhaps some Anglicans)—might go something like this: Since your baptism neither formally nor necessarily entails the regeneration of its subjects, it is not the same baptism as ours in substance. Therefore, you espouse a different baptism than that which is stated in Ephesians 4:5, “one Lord, one faith, one baptism…”

In principle, they would be using Clark’s own argument against him. He, and the entirety of the Westminster/Savoy tradition, are “squatters” when it comes to their appropriation of “paedobaptism.” A possible retort might be that those paedobaptists were in error, and the Westminster tradition thus represented a biblically-based reform. But then, why couldn’t Baptists say the same thing? It could simply be the case that the Baptist position, as represented in the 2LCF 1677, presents a further reform, and thus constitutes a reformed position. After all, as Baptists, we reject both infant baptism and baptismal regeneration. And we see this as a correction or reform of the incorrect sacramentology of the paedobaptist tradition.

Reason #2: Words Change in Their Usage Over Time

If Clark is comfortable with changing the meaning of “paedobaptism,” he should have no issue with Baptists seeking to revise the meaning of the term “Reformed.” I have no issue with the Westminster reform of the doctrine of baptism away from the Romish notion of baptismal regeneration. This was, in my estimation, a step in the right direction. But it also means that we need to recognize the reality of diachronic change in terms. Definitional diachrony examines how terms have evolved in their usage through (dia-) time. The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) is one of the most famous examples of a diachronic dictionary.[2] In a 1977 edition of the OED, one reads the entry on the term “Reformed” as follows:

Of religion, churches, etc.; Brought to a better or purer state by the removal of errors or abuses, esp. those imputed to the Church of Rome…. The name of Reformed Church(es) sometimes includes all the Protestant churches, and sometimes is specifically restricted to the Calvinistic bodies as contrasted with the Lutherans.[3]

Dates where the term is variably used are 1563, 1588, 1646, and 1772. In the 1646 usage, “The French Protestants would make no scruple to submit to it…, had they a King of the Reform’d Religion.” The idea of a monarch supporting a particular denomination of Christians runs against the grain of Westminster Confession, ch. 23, “…it is the duty of civil magistrates to protect the church of our common Lord, without giving the preference to any denomination of Christians above the rest…” Applying Clark’s angle to the disparity between the French Protestant usage of the term and that WCF, we might conclude the WCF isn’t reformed! In 1741, the “Reformed Church is again divided into the Lutheran Church, the Calvinist Church, the Church of England, etc…” Yet, on Clark’s website, the Heidelblog.net, he omits the Lutheran Augsburg Confession and the Anglican 39 Articles under his page linking to various Reformed confessions. 

Who, then, is misappropriating the term? R. Scott Clark or history itself?

This isn’t a problem for those of us who are willing to recognize the fungibility of linguistic definitions, i.e. diachrony. This is what the OED seeks to catalog. In light of the evolution of terms, it seems fallacious to reduce the term “Reformed” to the Westminster practice of infant baptism. Especially when the Westminster tradition does the same thing with terms recovered from Rome, like “baptism,” “synod,” “catholicity,” etc. History demonstrates that the term “Reformed” has been used more or less broadly than a mere denomination of Westminster Christianity.

Given the etymology of the term “Reformed,” if contemporary Baptists find its application useful for distinguishing confessional and Calvinistic Baptist churches from non-confessional and non-Calvinistic Baptist churches, why hinder this utility, especially if this practice goes back as far as the 17th century (as Clark noted above)? On a pastoral note, when it comes to novices in the faith, we need to be especially careful about our particularities so that we do not violate Paul’s rule in Romans 14:1, “Receive one who is weak in the faith, but not to disputes over doubtful things.”

Reason #3: The Word “Reformed” Shouldn’t Matter That Much

This isn’t to say it doesn’t matter. It does. But in terms of a word integral to one’s doctrinal commitments, it’s not that significant. This is because the term existed as a general adjective before its appropriation in the 16th and 17th centuries by Protestant Calvinists, perhaps dating to the 1340s. The term “reformed” could apply to anything. Lexically, it simply means, “to form again,” or “the amendment or altering for the better.”[4] A rod of iron is “reformable” if it is bent out of shape. Therefore, if Baptists perceive themselves to be a more perfectly amended theological tradition, then the term properly applies according to its lexicography.

According to a recent post by “Jules Diner” on X, which Clark re-posted, “Baptists insisting that they’re Reformed (they’re not) is not altogether unlike men insisting that they’re women… Their argument boils down to, ‘It’s how we identify and we don’t care what you think the word means!” Well, we do care what Jules and Clark think about what the term “Reformed” means. But we respectfully disagree with their a-historical restriction of the term to Westminster paedobaptism.

Furthermore, if Baptists co-opting the term “Reformed” is akin to the identity politics of the transgender movement (a ridiculous suggestion), then so is Clark’s appropriation of the term “paedobaptism.” What is more, Clark approvingly uses terms like “catholicity” on his website (see here). If Clark identifies as a “catholic” is he not squatting on Rome’s territory like trans persons squat on the territory of the opposite sex? If a Romanist followed Clark’s line of thought, it seems like they could make this argument with about as much validity.

Conclusion

Before we kick up a bunch of dust over a simple word, a simple caution, if I may: Baptists shouldn’t trouble themselves over the term “Reformed.” It’s not a big enough deal. Though it comes with some utility for our current moment in theological history (a utility I wanted to justify in this post), our Baptist tradition does not live or die by a single adjective. We may as well call ourselves “Particular Baptists,” or “Confessional Baptists,” or even “Sovereign Grace Baptists.” Each of these terms may be helpful in various ways. And truly, wrangling over such a word only does tender consciences harm upon final analysis. To make the historical and theological argument is one thing, but to defame each other over adjectives seems… harsh.

Resources:

[1] R. Scott Clark, “There Is No Credo Baptist Heidelberg Catechism or Why Hercules Collins Was Not Reformed,” 2022, https://heidelblog.net/2022/07/there-is-no-credo-baptist-heidelberg-catechism-or-why-hercules-collins-was-not-reformed/.

[2] Judy Pearsall, “Diachronic and Synchronic English Dictionaries,” in The Cambridge Companion to English Dictionaries, 2020, https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/abs/cambridge-companion-to-english-dictionaries/diachronic-and-synchronic-english-dictionaries/BD8E174AFD4AF4C45C59C15B67AA1060.

[3] The Compact Edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, 1977, 2466.

[4] The Compact Edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, 1977, 2465.

My Bible vs. Our Bible

My Bible vs. Our Bible

by | Jan 28, 2024 | Biblical Theology, Confessionalism, Historical Theology, Practical Theology

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.

The Theological Psychology of Gregory the Great

The Theological Psychology of Gregory the Great

by | Jan 3, 2024 | Philosophy, Practical Theology

Known best for the invention of the Gregorian chant, 800+ letters and tracts, and prolific Bible commentary, Gregory the Great wrote a short volume titled The Book of Pastoral Rule. I would not commend everything in the book, nor would I necessarily recommend it as an ideal pastoral handbook (he is the 6th c. Bishop of Rome after all).

But Gregory manages to open a window into pre-modern psychology. When I say “psychology,” I do not mean the stuff of Freud, Jung, or your therapist. I mean a theological psychology that takes for granted God, the immaterial soul, moral law, sin, and the gospel.

In discussing pastoral qualifications, Gregory glosses the psychology of curiosity, earthly cares, and shame. Below, I will look at what he has to say concerning each of these.

[For this article, I’ll be using a recent edition of The Book of Pastoral Rule, translated by George Demacopoulos. (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2007)]

Gregory covers much more than what we will look at here. This is but a glimpse. But with limitations acknowledged, I’ll begin with the psychology of curiosity.

What Gregory describes might be called “distraction.” He doesn’t use the term curiosity. That designation is most popularly used in the work of Thomas Aquinas about 700 years later. And I think it’s helpful to use the word “curiosity” since it refers to such a culturally accepted vice. What makes Gregory’s words about curiosity psychological is that he not only describes it, but he offers a causal explanation for why it occurs. He says:

For when the mind involves itself more than is needful with external things, it is like [a man] who is so preoccupied on a long journey that he forgets where he is going. As a result, the mind is such a stranger to self-examination that it does not consider the damage that it suffers and is ignorant of the extent to which it errs.[2]

Gregory does much more here than simply define curiosity. He denominates and explains.

He denominates, because he mentions a particular species of distraction or curiosity, namely, a distraction from the reality of one’s own spiritual (and moral) state of being. Today, we’d call this “a lack of self-awareness.”

If you’ve ever interacted with or counseled a narcissist, you likely found that they are keenly aware of the failures of others, but entirely (and conveniently) aloof when it comes to their own failures—moral or otherwise. This is a fatal form of curiosity because it draws the subject away from an important God-given priority in life, i.e. spiritual discipline.

Gregory not only describes the nature of the distraction but seeks to explain it. It happens “when the mind involves itself more than is needful with external things…”

There are two things here: excess (intemperance) and subordinate matters. When a man over-indulges in less important matters (lower priorities) he is bound to be pulled away from that which matters most. In this case, he is drawn away from his own spiritual well-being to other things. This happens to such an extent that a person in such a state cannot perceive their own sin. And a person who does not see his or her own sin has virtually no need for the gospel.

The psychology of curiosity, for Gregory, seems to be an intemperance concerning what really matters—like a man who would trade the welfare of his children for promotion at work.

Psychology of Earthly Cares

Gregory describes another kind of cognitive disorder—earthly care. A man lacks awareness of higher matters by virtue of being “weighed down” through habitual vice. Commenting tropologically on the Mosaic law and its prohibition of certain bodily maladies, Gregory puts it this way:

The “hunchback”,” then, is one who feels the burden of worldly cares to such an extent that he never looks up to what is lofty but instead focuses entirely upon what is tread upon at the most base level. For this one, whenever he hears something good about the kingdom of heaven, is so weighed down by the burden of perverse habit that he does not raise the face of his heart because he cannot raise the posture of his thought, which the habit of earthly care keeps face down.[3] (Emphasis added)

Man is a body-soul composite.

Within the soul, there is the intellect and will. The body then supplies animal or sensitive appetites, which may be employed for the good so long as those appetites are brought under the control of the intellect and will. However, more often than not, our intellect is led by the lower appetites rather than the other way around.

Sin makes us think like beasts rather than men.

The preoccupation with “earthly cares” is explained by “perverse habit,” which invariably entails a prioritization of lower passions. When a man fails to control his lower passions through virtue, he will be influenced by outward, earthly stimuli—e.g. riches, sex, food—more than anything else. He “loses his mind,” as it were.

The man consumed by earthly cares has an ensnared heart or soul. Originally created to contemplate and enjoy God, the sinful man’s soul is enslaved to bodily passions. He cannot “rise” above what most pleases his senses, i.e. earthly things.

Psychology of Shame

Not leaving the previous context, per se, Gregory switches a small gear to those who delight in sinful thoughts. He describes this person as one who “is not carried away by sinful deeds, [but] his mind is entertained by lustful thoughts without any stings of repugnance.”[4] Gregory would likely grant that all sinners, including true Christians, struggle with taking pleasure in sinful thoughts. So he adds a qualifier. This is a person who doesn’t have a “struggle.” This is a person who goes without “any stings of repugnance.”

He elaborates:

A person, then, is ruptured when all of his thoughts sink to the level of lasciviousness, and he bears in his heart the weight of wickedness; and although he does not actively engage in shameful acts, nevertheless they are not purged from his mind. Moreover, he does not have the strength to raise himself to the discipline of good works because he is secretly weighed down by a shameful burden. (Emphasis added)

The psychological consequence of delighting in wicked thoughts is ethical impotence. The road to perdition is more like a downward spiral. As this man delights in wicked thoughts, he is less and less likely to turn the train around. The more he travels into the darkness, the dimmer the light gets.

When he thinks about turning his life around and tries to occupy himself with good works, the shame of his sin brings despair. His strategy becomes, “Well, I’m already here, I may as well remain.” Sin, in thought or deed, disposes a person away from God and toward more of their sin. This is why drug addictions rarely stop at marijuana, or why alcoholism is never limited to 4 beers a night. It’s why a porn addiction may turn into a real-life one-night-stand or long-term affair.

Sin has momentum. And part of this momentum is shame.

Shame is the burden one feels as a result of sins they’ve committed. And so long as that burden remains, there is very little incentive to turn things around. A homeless man learns to live without much food and no shelter. He becomes content with his station. Climbing out of the hole seems like nothing more than wishful thinking.

The effect the gospel has here cannot be underestimated. Shame is alleviated in the penal substitutionary atonement of Jesus Christ—where our sin is transferred to Him and dealt with for good. With the cleansing of the conscience following faith in the gospel, a door to renewal is flung wide open.

Conclusion

In pre-modern figures like Gregory, we find a thorough analysis of the whole man. It’s diagnostic, yet it’s far from secular. It’s neither materialistic nor naturalistic. Scripture plays a central role in his approach. At the same time, he doesn’t merely regurgitate biblical data expecting the reader to crunch it like a calculator or a computer. He deals with various aspects of man’s soul. He deals with the whole man. And this is par the course for pre-modern figures.

Speaking in a broad sense, the work of theological retrieval has much to offer in the area of anthropology. More specifically, however, it may also have much to offer in the field of Christian counseling or even clinical psychology.

Resources:

[1] Frederick Wilhelmsen, Man’s Knowledge of Reality, (Brooklyn, NY: Angelico Press, 2021), 3. He writes, “There is no distinct science of epistemology in the Thomistic sense of science.”

[2] Gregory the Great, The Book of Pastoral Rule, (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2007), 34.

[3] Gregory, The Book of Pastoral Rule, 46.

[4] Gregory, The Book of Pastoral Rule, 48.

 

Which Way Western Man? Curiosity, Or Studiousness?

Which Way Western Man? Curiosity, Or Studiousness?

by | May 17, 2023 | Philosophy, Practical Theology, Public Theology

It’s 7 pm. The sun quickly hastens, hiding behind the horizon. My family and I sit in a restaurant just a few miles from home. As I look around at other tables, I observe something ominous, something sobering: Very few people speak to one another. Knecks angled down, eyes overshadowed by hair or brow, most people stare at their phones.

Does this sound like a familiar situation?

Whether we’ve noticed it in ourselves or others, if you’re not living under a rock, chances are you’ve experienced something similar. Mindless scrolling. Cheap laughs. No interpersonal communication. It’s a sad state of affairs. And it would be even sadder if there weren’t an explanation. But there is an explanation. Ready for it?

Studiousness has been exchanged for curiosity. 

This has always been a problem in society, even prior to the modern age. But our technological achievements have unfortunately favored curiosity rather than studiousness with endless videos, audible reading, podcasts, news feeds, and so on. These things aren’t bad in and of themselves. And I’ll say something more about their proper use in a moment. But the vicious habit of curiosity is virtually the default mode of education today. And this is a major problem.

So, what do we do about it?

Before we answer this question, we have to first understand what curiosity is and how it differs from studiousness. We also have to understand something of the extent to which curiosity fails to yield the same fruits as studiousness.

“Curiosity Killed the Ca…” Man!

Curiosity is deadly. But why?

As Eve gazed upon the mysterious forbidden fruit, the Serpent worked his sales pitch. “Did God really tell you not to eat this?” he asked. (Gen. 3:1) He even went so far as to register a baldfaced lie in total contradiction to God’s own words. “You won’t die!” the Serpent added. Eve’s interest peaked. The Bible says the “woman saw that the tree was good for food, that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree desirable to make one wise…” (v. 6)

Whatever was involved in Eve’s decision-making process, curiosity was certainly at the forefront. But how? Isn’t curiosity harmless? Not quite. Thomas Aquinas gives an expansive fourfold definition of curiosity which just adds some additional descriptive power to what essentially took place in the Garden and continues to characterize our now-fallen situation. Thomas says that curiosity consists of a wrongly ordered desire to know the truth. And there are four marks he offers by way of description.

First, when someone decides to study something less profitable than that which they are more obliged to study. For example, I’m a pastor. I have an obligation to study and to show myself approved, and this is for the edification of the sheep. However, if I’m consumed by scrolling social media rather than fulfilling the work of the ministry, I am engaging in curiosity. On this point, Jerome wrote, “We see priests forsaking the gospels and the prophets, reading stage-plays, and singing the love songs of pastoral idylls.” (ST.II-II.Q167.A1.C.3)

Second, when man studies something which he is not supposed to know. For example, when man tries to discern the future or speak with the dead through a medium. Thomas calls this “superstitious curiosity.”

Third, when someone desires to know the truth about the world or anything in the world without referring all his knowledge to its proper end which is, ultimately, the knowledge of God. If the knowledge of created things does not bring a person to reflect upon God and His glory, then man engages in curiosity. Knowing something without doing so to God’s glory is, perhaps, the clearest expression of curiosity.

Fourth, when man tries to study that which lies beyond his own intellect, and so then engages in fruitless speculation, he is engaging in the sin of curiosity. In this case, the distinction made in Deuteronomy 29:29 is blurred, “The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but those things which are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.”

In Eve’s case, all four kinds of curiosity are present. First, she desired to know something that was less profitable to her than what she had been created to do. Second, she was forbidden from eating the fruit, and so this was knowledge off-limits to her. Third, she obviously did not want to glorify God in such knowledge, but only to glorify herself. Hence, the Serpent’s enticement, “You shall be like God.” And fourth, she pursued knowledge that was beyond her capacities, that is, she wanted to do the impossible—become her own God. And this led only to folly.

Curiosity killed the man and with him the whole human race!

Studiousness Is Life-Giving

Proverbs 19:8 reads, “He who gets wisdom loves his own soul; He who keeps understanding will find good.” Studiousness and curiosity can look the same. Both involve the pursuit of knowledge and wisdom. However, what differentiates the two is the purpose for which knowledge and wisdom are sought.

On the one hand, curiosity induces one to vanity in (1) the study of something inferior to what one needs to study, (2) the study of something forbidden, (3) the study of the world for the world’s sake rather than God’s, or (4) the prideful study of that to which we cannot attain.

On the other hand, studiousness is a virtuous study of (1) the truth we need to know and are most obligated to know, (2) the truth commended for us to know by God, both through the natural world and Scripture, (3) study of truth unto a higher knowledge of God and divine wisdom, and (4) the humble study of that which we have the capacity to learn, i.e. not trying to study that which clearly lies beyond our grasp.

Curiosity leads to all sorts of dead ends. The truth may be apprehended, but it will never be known for the proper end nor appropriately applied by the understanding. Furthermore, curiosity often leads to a drought of knowledge altogether, since it sometimes attempts to know what is beyond the knower’s capacity. In this case, it’s vulnerable to imbibing falsehoods similar to those Eve entertained from the mouth of the Serpent.

Studiousness is the properly ordered pursuit of knowledge unto the glory of God. And it’s really studiousness that serves as the proper disposition according to which we might know and learn Christ. Curiosity lends itself to the apprehension of historical faith if that. But studiousness is the fruit of saving faith and is thus to be desired by all Christians.

Back to That Restaurant We Were at Earlier

Dropping all the above into our contemporary context…

As we look around at the zombified restaurantgoers obsessed with their phones, Would we say our society is mostly occupied with studiousness or with curiosity?

I’ll let you be the judge of that. But for my part, the speed of information, the perpetual immersion of society into its smart devices, along with a culture virtually identified with its social media status has me answering: Curiosity.

Don’t get me wrong, much of our technology has great potential to be used for the glory of God. Phones might be used to check up on loved ones. Social media can be used for the transmission of the gospel and for various forms of networking. There are countless ways in which we could transcend the many vulnerabilities of our technological age. But in order to do that, we have to be able to identify curiosity, avoid it, and instead employ our technology in a way that fruitfully serves a habit of studiousness.

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.