The Canon Question

“I would not have believed the gospel, unless the authority of the Church had induced me.” (St. Augustine, Contra Ep. Fund., V, 6.)

I. THE CANON QUESTION.

As Christians, how is it that we know we are saved by the death and resurrection of the incarnate Son of God? For those raised as Christians, the Sunday School sing-song answer “for the Bible tells me so” may come to mind, and this fairly well summarizes the Protestant teaching on the communication of saving truth. The Belgic Confession, an historical expression of the Reformed faith used widely in Dutch denominations, asserts that we know God by the beauty of creation, and “more openly by his holy and divine Word.” Continue reading...

Onward Christian Soldiers: Armies of One?

The Bible tells us that we, as Christians, are types of soldiers. For instance, Paul tells the Church at Philippi that he has decided to "send back to you Epaphroditus, my brother, fellow worker and fellow soldier." (Phil. 2:25.) In 2 Timothy, we are reminded to "[e]ndure hardship...like a good soldier of Christ Jesus. No one serving as a soldier gets involved in civilian affairs—he wants to please his commanding officer." (2 Tim. 2:3-4.) And of course there is the well known passage from Ephesians 6 exhorting Christians to "put on the full armor of God." (Eph. 6:11.)

Today's army wrestles with the working out of individualism and the 'liberating' ideology of the previous centuries. Headlines from a few years ago savored the excitement generated by a U.S. Army junior officer who refused to deploy to Iraq. His reason: he believed that the Iraq war was immoral and illegal, so he would not participate.

In the same year, the Synod of the Christian Reformed Church ruled to petition the U.S. President to allow soldiers to selectively conscientiously object to conflicts "on the basis of just-war criteria."  The Synod noted the Christian's obligation to obey national authorities, but saw this obligation as being trumped by "our ultimate loyalty...to God."  By "our," the Synod meant "each individual Christian's."

This has me wondering about private judgment and effective warfare, both in the context of military soldiers fighting military wars, and in the context of Christian soldiers fighting a spiritual war.

Are we the Army of Christ, or many armies of one?  Armies are effective when they amass a stronger force than their enemy.  Strength comes from obvious things: size, training, discipline, and cohesion.  But if each soldier can privately determine the rectitude of the commander's course, cohesion and discipline evaporate.  Would Col. Chamberlain have been able to send his 20th Maine Regiment on a daring charge, thereby holding Little Round Top and saving the Union flank at Gettysburg, if private dissent was allowed?  Could Gen. Eisenhower have thought to take the beaches at Normandy with an allied force in which individual conscience could trump military orders? (And I note that the individual's conscience and judgment are far from clear when facing the prospect of incoming hostile fire.)



The sine qua non of successful warfare is an obedient soldier. Every military needs him before it can hope to have cohesion and unity.  Even guerilla forces, irregular militia, and insurgent rebels abide by this modus operandi; they have leaders and subordinates, rules of obedience and enforcement of disobedience.

So for what reason might we conclude that the Army of Christ would be any different? The concept of obedience is hardly a minor tangential characteristic of soldiering, so I do not think this is an instance where 'all analogies break down.' To the contrary, if anything is derived from our being characterized as armor-wearing "soldiers," it should be that we are part of the whole, with the whole depending on its parts. We are not Wrestlers for Christ, after all. And we are not an army of one. We should be one Army of Christ. It is--and has been since time immemorial--the soldier's to obey, and the commander's to lead.

Polycrates: Proto-Protestant, Catholic or Orthodox?

Patiently crawling through Jurgens' The Faith of the Early Fathers, I came upon a fascinating dispute between two ancient bishops of the Church, Polycrates of Ephesus and Victor of Rome (c. 190 A.D.) (Jurgens, Vol. 1, at 82).  Particularly interesting are the sources of authority to which these men appealed or upon which they apparently acted.

According to Eusebius (Church History, Book V, Ch. 23), the bishops of Asia [Minor] followed a tradition dating Easter on the 14th day of Nisan, the date of the Jewish celebration of Passover.  This occurred regardless of the day of the week on which Passover fell.  However, this was "not the custom of the churches in the rest of the world," who instead celebrated Easter on the day "of the Resurrection of our Savior," Sunday (Id.).

St. Victor, the late-second century Bishop of Rome, desired unity in the worldwide Church's observance of Easter (Catholic Encyclopedia: Pope St. Victor I).  He called together the Italian bishops in what is the earliest known Roman synod.  He also "wrote to the leading bishops of the various districts, urging them to call together the bishops of their sections of the country and to take counsel with them on the question of the Easter festival." (Id.).  In the east, he wrote to Bishop Polycrates, leader of bishops of Asia Minor, to induce him to call a council of Asian bishops to address the matter. 

Responses from all fronts but Asia affirmed the celebration of Easter on Sunday.  Bishop Polycrates rejected Bishop Victor's instruction to change the celebration date (Jurgens, at 83).  Eusebius records that Victor excommunicated the Asian bishops in response, and for this strong-arm tactic, received the reproof of several (Church History, Book V, Ch. 24).  Jurgens states that information of this excommunication is "held in considerable suspicion," and that the likes of St. Irenaeus, who pleaded for toleration for the sake of unity, may have held Victor to a mere threatening of excommunication (Jurgens at 82).  

Little else is known about this early dispute, but much of informative value can be derived.  Some have cited the episode as evidence that Polycrates represents a proto-Protestant Bible Christian, and that the Roman Bishop holds no special authority.  (Note that for such Christians it inexplicably does not follow that we must celebrate Easter on Nisan 14.)  But the events surrounding Polycrates' letter of rejection have also been interpreted as showing the opposite proposition, i.e., Victor's headship over "Catholic Christendom" (Cath. Encyc.: Pope St. Victor I). 

So was Polycrates' view of authority proto-Protestant, Catholic or Orthodox?  In his letter rejecting Sunday Easter, he clearly states the authorities by which he refuses Victor's instruction.  He first cites the Nisan 14 Easter tradition in Asia, held by the likes of the Apostle Philip, the Apostle John, Polycarp, and other departed saints, as well as his own bishop-kinsmen who preceded him.  He then states that this traditional observance is "according to the Gospel" and an adherence "to the rule of faith."  He notes his seasoned age, his acquaintance with "the brethren throughout the world," and his having "read through the entire Holy Scriptures," and declares that he is not afraid of the threats of men, but must rather obey God.  Finally, he relies upon the consensus of the "most numerous" bishops he called together upon Victor's request, who approved of Polycrates' own view (Church History, Book V, Ch. 24). 

Polycrates' appeal to having read the Holy Scriptures, and his chiding use of Acts 5:29 ("We must obey God rather than men.") notwithstanding, it seems hard to mistake his view of authority for the Protestant one.  He relied upon tradition and other authorities before Scripture, and he lived in an age of an open canon.  Polycrates hardly can be claimed to have abided by the rule of sola Scriptura.  Whichever of these two adversaries one fancies in this dispute, one is fancying some view of authority other than the Protestant one.

Far more from Polycrates' letter resembles the Orthodox view on authority: a primary reliance on tradition, including an invocation of named Apostles preceding him in his particular church; adherence to the "rule of faith"; the supposed universality of the held belief; the Holy Scriptures; and the agreement of a council of bishops (see Tradition in the Orthodox Church, available here).  Indeed, the authority to which Polycrates appealed in rejecting Victor seems distinct from the Catholic view only in his rejection of the universal authority of the Bishop of Rome.

But whatever we say of Polycrates, we must not lose sight of Victor -- calling for councils, ruling on a divisive matter, receiving obedient rebuke (save for Polycrates).  And ultimately, although the details are lost to history, one must take note of the fact that Victor's determination carried the day.  It is interesting that papal primacy has not been so self-evident as to be a sine qua non of faithful catholicity throughout the ages, especially in the east.  Rather, its necessity in the face of heresy or adversity seems to have propped up progressively germinating forms of the doctrine.  Whatever the lesson of Polycrates and Victor for today, it is much nearer an analogy to the dispute between the separated Orthodox and Latin Churches than to the dispute between the Latin Church and Protestant groups. 

Individual vs. Collective Authority

In the third part of my Authority series I wrote:  "Likewise, when we perform acts as the Christian Church, unless we believe these acts flow from our individual capacities, we need authority from God (because we act as agents of His capacity)."  One challenger noted that Catholics recognize baptisms done even by 'infidels'.   Another, that Jesus approved of a man driving out demons in His name, even though he had not received apostolic approval to do so (Mark 9:38-41).

St. Nicholas casting out demons from idol shrines

With these comments and separate conversations I had with friends, I encountered no dispute with the basic principle that one must have authority before one can act on another's behalf.  The challenges were that my basic principle didn't make sense in practice.  How can we say that Christ can't choose to call an individual today to do acts for the good of His Church?  E.g., how do we know Calvin wasn't given the authority that we believe God gave to the Apostle Paul?

In light of this, I believe my principle requires a distinction between individual and collective Christian authority.  I mentioned this in the third Authority post, but perhaps too much in passing.  I said "when we perform acts as the Christian Church, unless we believe these acts flow from our individual capacities, we need authority from God (because we act as agents of His capacity)."  It might have been better stated another way: if we presume to act on God's account on behalf of (and over) other Christians, we must identify positive authority to do so.

Certainly when I blog, I do so as an individual Christian.  I do not claim to act on account of a group of other Christians (e.g., my local church, or my denomination).  I do not believe that any of my assertions are binding on other Christians because I have asserted them.  That is why I do not need to identify positive authority to blog about the Faith.  If this were the blog of my XYZ Presbyterian (PCA) Church, then I would need positive authority to speak on that body's behalf.

Likewise, when others show hospitality, or raise a child in the faith, or speak in foreign tongues, or the like, they are fulfilling their individual place in the overall body of Christ.  Most Christian acts, then, are individual acts of the believer, not requiring this immediate assignment of authority from Christ.  When people perform individual acts in the name of Christ, we must let them put their talents to use.

But this is distinct from those who claim to act on behalf of (and over) other believers, or on behalf of the Christian Church.    The talents of driving out demons or speaking in tongues are distinct from the talent of 'apostleship' (cf. 1 Cor 12:28), which inherently involves authority over others. When an overseer claims to exercise Christ's authority over the Christian Church, he must be positively authorized to assume this role.  It is essential that our Church leaders be able to articulate their positive source of authority to exert power over the body of Christ.  This is necessary assurance that the rest of the body is not being led astray -- has not been commandeered by false shepherds.

Authority, Authority, Authority, Part III

Mr. Merrick relieving Capt. Queeg, The Caine Mutiny (1954)

In my previous two posts, here and here, I discussed two difficulties I have with the confessional Reformed view of sola Scriptura: that it inherently requires subjective interpretation of Scripture, and that it is uses post hoc rationalizations in defense of its tenets about the Bible. In this post I will address a third problem, more to the root of the Reformation. While I put it third, I believe the thoughts in this post have been the most influential to me as I have reflected on the Protest, on Catholicism and on Orthodoxy.

3) Reformational ecclesial acts require authority from God, the "Principle".

Even if there is a principled distinction between the Biblicist and the confessional Reformed positions, and even if the reformational tenets about the Bible do not require post hoc rationalizations, the confessional Reformed system still seems deficient for want of proper authority. In other words, I am not certain that the confessional Reformed system has God’s authority to be at all.

I cannot overstate how fundamental to a discussion of the Reformation is our understanding of Authority. Caveat: I have been schooled by civilian seafarers, by military men, and most recently by professors of law, all of whom heavily stress matters of authority. Therefore, the possibility does not escape me that I might have an inflated view of authority in any system -- I pray that I remain open to correction and truth. However, I do believe that the principles of authority are universally true; because we see them reflected in places like the (secular) law does not mean that they derive from the (secular) law.

Black's Law Dictionary defines authority as "The right or permission to act legally on another's behalf...; the power delegated by a principal to an agent". At law, then, when I act on another’s account, I must have authority in order for that action to be valid. This is the purpose of the “power of attorney”; it is a legal document which authorizes another to act on one’s own account. If someone seeks to act in my name by writing a check from my bank account, but they do not have my authority, their conduct is invalid. If they do have my authority, then I have to honor the check they wrote, even if I disagree with their decision to write it. In the law’s eyes, it is as if I wrote the check myself.

Likewise, when we perform acts as the Christian Church, unless we believe these acts flow from our individual capacities, we need authority from God (because we act as agents of His capacity). Could anyone act in God’s name without authority? Could someone baptize their children in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit in the bathtub one quiet afternoon because they want to do so? I believe that would be analogous to someone writing a check on my account without my proper authority, without a power of attorney.

The Protestant, then, must maintain that his acts are authorized by God based on the authority to act that God granted through the Bible itself. He must maintain that Luther and his followers were authorized to reject the authorities of their time, and to establish their own authorities, based on the Bible’s authority (for the sake of the Gospel).

But does the Bible authorize us to overthrow our authorities (which we know are all established by God, be they good or bad (Rom. 13:1)) and set up our own authorities? It seems, rather, that we are to submit to authorities (Rom. 13:1-5, Titus 3:1), and to pray for their righteousness (1 Tim. 2:1-3). God the Son did not usurp the Jewish authorities of His earthly time on account of their being in doctrinal or practical error, but He articulated the authority He had been given to teach the New Covenant ("All authority on heaven and earth has been given to me..." (Matt. 28:18b)). He delegates or transmits that authority to his Apostles ("Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you." (id., v. 19-20b; cf. 2 Cor. 10:7-8, 13:10, 1 Thes. 4:1-2)).

This is a befuddling problem for us in reformational churches. The Apostles were given authority for acts such as conducting baptisms immediately by Christ (who Himself said He had authority from the Father). What happened to that authority? We certainly can agree that it did not die with the Apostles, or else there would be no authorized baptisms after the first century, upon John's death. Therefore, either the authority was given to all, or to a finite group of Christians. But it is obvious that it was not given to all, because I am not authorized to baptize anyone (see WCOF ch. XXVII, sec. 4)).

So the Apostles must have passed on their own delegated authority from Christ to a finite group of individuals within the early Christian community. Who were they? I tend to think Timothy was one, for Paul tells us that Timothy received the "gift of God" through Paul's laying on of hands (2 Tim. 1:6). Titus was, as well, who had “all authority” to speak, exhort, and reprove (Titus 2:15). So we know there was some delegation or transmission of authority from the Apostles on.

Clement was one also, and he gave an interesting discussion of authority matching what I have said above:

The apostles have preached the gospel to us from the Lord Jesus Christ; Jesus Christ [has done so] from God. Christ therefore was sent forth by God, and the apostles by Christ. Both these appointments, then, were made in an orderly way, according to the will of God. Having therefore received their orders, and being fully assured by the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, and established in the word of God, with full assurance of the Holy Ghost, they went forth proclaiming that the kingdom of God was at hand. And thus preaching through countries and cities, they appointed the first fruits [of their labors], having first proved them by the Spirit, to be bishops and deacons of those who should afterwards believe (Letter to the Corinthians, ch. 42).

The Clementine (and Catholic) derivative authority scheme for the Church thus looks like this: God > His Son > the Eleven (Apostles) > those they appointed subsequently. Apart from this, no act is properly authorized, be it discipling the nations, baptizing, etc. But the Reformational derivative authority scheme for the Church is like this: God > His Son > the Eleven > those they appointed until they fell into some degree of apostasy, and then to an educated disciple approved by the faithful. Some problems I can see with that scheme are: 1) that it requires a reliable body to articulate when the appointees of the Apostles (who had real authority from Heaven) fell into the requisite degree of apostasy; 2) that its rule allowing for self-assumption of authority is not found anywhere in Scripture, but arguably the opposite rule is (see supra); 3) that it places the authority to make new authorities in the subjective hands of the faithful, and 4) that it is indistinguishable in structural form from the various Christological, Trinitarian, and other heresies of the early Church.

I mean no disrespect or challenge to my elders (teaching or ruling) with this post, but mean the inquiry in a more academic manner. I believe my pastor is devoted to God, and that God uses him for His glory. But I must ask these questions because my conscience compels me to be assured that I am properly submitted to the proper authorities of His Church.

Authority, Authority, Authority, Part II

2) The sola Scriptura position appears to have been reached by post hoc rationalization.

In my previous post, I discussed the difficulty I have in articulating a principled distinction between the Biblicist position and the confessional Reformed position vis-à-vis subjective interpretations of scripture. In this post I will consider another intellectual difficulty I face in remaining in the confessional Reformed camp.

Even if there is a principled distinction between the Biblicist and the confessional Reformed methods of interpreting Scripture, the latter position still seems to require post hoc rationalization to conclude that all revealed truth has been inscripturated into 66 books in the Bible.

Notice the two integral claims of the confessional sola Scriptura position, that a) all revealed truth has been inscripturated, and b) our confessions have the proper listing of books (i.e., canon). These are the sine quibus non of the Reformation -- that is, without these two claims being true, the Reformers would be mere dissidents, with no unifying claim to the possession of truth or authority. If these two truth-claims are to be the foundation of the believer's authority structure, binding his conscience above all else, they must be demonstrable and supportable. If they cannot be demonstrated, or are unsupported, then the entire system fails for want of authority to bind the conscience.

Complete Inscripturation.

To maintain the reformational position, the confessional Reformed must be able to articulate that God's revelations of absolute truth have been completed (i.e., have ceased), have been recorded in writing, and are to be reliably found no where else but the Bible. I have previously described why I see circularity in this position. Briefly stated, the critique with which I wrestle goes something like this: only Scripture contains revealed truth, but the claim that 'revealed truth is only in Scripture' is itself not in Scripture, so that claim is not a revealed one. The confessional Reformed may respond that this is a problem only for the Biblicist view. They may say (though I disagree that this is the Westminster Confession-al position) that their claim is actually that the early Church was reliable to determine truth, and it determined that only what is in the Bible is revealed truth, so that claim is reliable.

However, the early Church was far from clear on this matter of revealed truth having been completely inscripturated (see my reply to Keith Mathison's claim about this seminal matter here). Scripture itself seems to point in another direction (e.g., 2 Thes. 2:15, "So then, brothers, stand firm and hold to the teachings [traditions] we passed on to you, whether by word of mouth or by letter."). The irony, then, is that complete inscripturation is the opposite conclusion of what one might reach from a plain reading of Scripture.

Canon.

The Canon Question seems like a deeper example of the problem of necessary extra-biblical truth claims in the sola Scriptura paradigm. Obviously, the 66-book canon is not revealed within a book of the Bible, so one must look to an external, or extrabiblical source of truth to determine which books contain revealed Truth.

When I first heard the Catholic critique of sola Scriptura, I was intrigued by the claim that without a visible Church possessed of divinely-granted authority, the canon could not reliably be defined. My intrigue turned to dismay when I could not get a uniform answer from Reformed pastors and scholars as to why we have the 66 books we have. I was not dismayed that there were no answers, but rather that there were a variety of theories explaining why the 66-book canon is right. That rationales have been derived from a common conclusion (i.e., our particular 66 books) evidences post hoc rationalization.

Here are various rationalizations of the common conclusion with which I am familiar:

1. Our 66 books are in the Bible because the inward work of the Holy Spirit bears witness in “our” hearts (WCOF).


2. Our O.T. books are those which were accepted by the Jews in Hebrew in the early Church era.


3. Apostolic authorship determines N.T. canonicity.


4. Our N.T. books are those which received widespread acceptance by the early church, which was divinely reliable in its conclusions until the 4th century.


5. Under the Lutheran variant of #4, we have a homolegoumena (universally accepted books) for establishing dogma , and an antilegoumena (disputed books, e.g., Jude or Revelation) to corroborate disputed dogmatic claims.

I believe that each of these variants has problems and inconsistencies (i.e., that each one might not reach the same 66-book conclusion under its own terms if strictly applied). However, the larger point to make here is that the use of a plurality of rationales (justifications) evidences that a bedrock reformational truth-claim (that our 66 books contain revealed truth and none others) -- the only truth-claim able to bind the Protestant's conscience -- is reached through post hoc rationalizations. Why is it that we can debate infant baptism under the terms of sola Scriptura, but not debate whether Jude belongs in the Scripture's corpus? Why is the meaning of communion open for discussion, but not the placement of Ecclesiastes in Holy Writ? What is the principled distinction between a debate over the truth of a doctrinal matter, and a debate over the truth of the listing of canon?

If the rationale that informs us that we have 66 books containing the complete inscripturation of God's revelations cannot bind our consciences (because there isn't one rationale at all), then neither can the conclusion. And if the conclusion can't bind our consciences, then the matter of canonicity seems like Protestant fair game for debate.

(To be continued...)

Authority, Authority, Authority

Zrim and I recently interacted in some posts at De Regnis Duobus. We got to discussing authority and the church, at which point he asked about my wrestling with a particular Protestant via media, "yours is a more specific quest to find the via media between T0 and T2/3? Is it that T1 is not good enough or that you are trying to unpack T1 in order to understand it?" I replied in part, but would like to do so more fully here.

The "T0", "T1", and "T2/3" scheme to which Zrim refers is that presented by Keith Mathison in his The Shape of Sola Scriptura (I have previously discussed that book in a series here, here, here, and here). Stated simply, "Tradition Zero" is shorthand for the Biblicist position on revelation and authority, and "Tradition Two" is shorthand for Catholic and Orthodox positions allowing for two repositories ("sources") of revelation, one the Scriptures, and one the Church's Tradition (T3 is a later variant of T2). "Tradition One" is the magisterial Reformed position that strikes the proper middle way (via media), the argument goes, on authority and revelation.

I have had (now years) of ongoing difficulty defending that there is this logical middle way between individualism and authoritarianism in church structure. The following are my thoughts:

1) I find it difficult to articulate a principled distinction between the confessional (magisterial) Reformed position and the Biblicist position.

I previously described the Biblicist position as a belief that all revelation is contained within the Bible, and that there is no authority apart from the good Book itself. This is a subjective system that says "no creed but Christ, no book but the Bible" (which, as I have previously noted, is itself a creed).

While it has several variations, I will address the confessional (magisterial) Reformed position as articulated by Mathison, as I believe it is a fair archetype. This position is a belief that "Scripture was the sole source of revelation; that it was the final authoritative norm of doctrine and practice; that it was to be interpreted in and by the Church; and that it was to be interpreted according to the regula fidei [(rule of faith)]" (Mathison at 256).

I think the claimed distinction, which is necessary to avoid the criticism of individualism, is this: the Biblicist reads his Bible subjectively and individualistically, so making up his own interpretation as he goes, whereas the confessional Reformed reads the Bible in the light of Reformed teaching, giving himself over to its tenets. I will examine this distinction in practice and in theory.

In practice, this seems like a fair distinction. The Reformed man teaching his family the Gospel will do so generally in accordance with the Reformed faith whereas the Biblicist will feel at liberty to handle the texts of Scripture as seems fitting to him (subjectively). However, my experience with "Biblicists" has been that they do actually submit themselves to a tradition (something objective) when handling the Bible, often the Baptist free-church position. This tradition has a feel to it that is often characteristic of "unaffiliated" Christian charitable and missionary organizations. When one is with these Christians, there is a certain presumptive way to discuss the faith and to handle the Scriptures. They may have a lesser quantum of deference to objective materials (like formal confesssions or the opinions of venerable scholars), but they still do not pick up their Bible with a traditionless tabula rasa. They are not the proverbial man isolated on a tropical island, never having seen a Bible until one washes up on the beach. Their objective standard is simply less articulated, historical and rigorous.

And on the other side of this 'in practice' coin, I observe a lack of Reformed-minded people reading their Scriptura with much deference to the objective distinctives of the Reformed faith. Individualism seems the norm in American Reformed churches. I know of one (non-PCA) pastor teaching on "the five points of Calvinism" receiving almost no interest from the congregation. I remember visiting one PCA church where I was asked by a regular, "what's the PCA?" I was once a member of another that had baptistic (Baptist?) elders. I doubt those of the larger PCUSA are more commonly found reading their Bibles "with the Church" under a confessional Reformed light. The Tradition One-er may be partly in the imagination. At any rate, while I am comfortable granting that the confessional Reformed are less (or even much less) subjective in their handling of the Bible, this is not a distinction of principle, so much as one of degree. And the degree may not be so large.

In theory, the distinction between the two camps is harder for me to see. Today's Reformed subscriber may read his Bible with deference to an objective system (the Reformed confessions and scholarly teachings), but that system lacks an objective lineage. Just because many today give deference to opinions of the past does not mean those opinions were not reached individualistically. (A claim of a Holy gift of truth given to historical consensus or to present majority consensus would make for a conversation worth holding.) Using Mathison's verbiage, I would say the Reformed version of the regula fidei, by which Scripture is to be interpreted, is not an originally objective criterion, but an originally subjective one, having been made the subject of opinions five centuries ago. It is thus an objective system subjectively reached. If that is so, while we are many generations removed from the problem, we are no different in principle from the hypothetical Biblicist. I should note that something being "subjective" does not make it inherently bad, just as something that is "objective" is not inherently good. But for comparison purposes, if one is characterized by subjectivism (so individualism), so is the other, at least at its roots.

Take an example: if the Jimmy Stewart Fan Club only listened to music that Mr. Stewart is known to have admired, we would have an objective system subjectively reached. Anyone picking tunes for a fan club meeting knows what tunes are approved for listening (so objective), but the tunes that Mr. Stewart liked were textbook subjective matters of his taste. The tunes wouldn't be inherently good, only inherently tunes Jimmy Stewart liked. Likewise, while I may subscribe to a clearly articulated system, and may allow that system to inform my reading of Scripture, someone at some point in history had to have created such a system from their subjective (individualistic) reading of Scripture (e.g., "Calvinism" and "Lutheranism"). However, there's a big "or" that could go here: or the confessional Reformed has to claim that their reading of the Bible, their objective system, is the true and original (objective) regula fidei from Christ that had been lost from about the year 400 until 1520 or so. I believe that the Reformed system contains at least some novelty by Calvin and his peers (e.g., Calvin thought that he was taking Augustine's views on Predestination to their natural conclusions), so it does not have objectively evidenced objective lineage throughout the history of Christianity -- it contains at least some subjective conclusions.

I see another point of commonality between the confessional Reformed position and the Biblicist position in their theories. This commonality is that the individual believer is ultimately (not penultimately) bound to his conscience's interpretation of Scripture. So his deference to an objective system reaches its limit when the reader's conscience conflicts. To put it another way, the confessional Reformed system is objective until its subjective limit (or trump, or governor, etc.) has been reached. In that case, subjectivism necessarily prevails (though one could go a lifetime without this happening, of course). If the subjective conscience of the believer does not hold a trump over the Reformed articulation of the regula fidei, one has to contend with one's justification for the Reformation itself. That is because the Reformation was built on the sentiment ascribed to Luther at the Diet of Worms, "Unless I am convicted by Scripture and plain reason--I do not accept the authority of popes or councils, for they have contradicted each other--my conscience is captive to the Word of God." Clearly conscience, the conscience of each individual, holds the trump.


Those are my thoughts on the lack of principled distinctions. The Biblicist does not read the Bible without his own "Tradition", the confessional Reformed often reads his Bible without deference to his own "Tradition", these traditions are not without subjective, individual interpretations of Scripture at their origins (unless you grant that the Reformed regula fidei is what was delivered by Christ), and in either case, the individual's conscience holds the ultimate trump over allegedly objective doctrines which demand deference. For these reasons, the confessional Reformed position seems to lack a principled distinction from the Biblicist 'Tradition Zero' position.

(To be continued...)

If I Were a 2nd Century Christian

Issue. I think this might be a helpful intellectual exercise: where would I have looked to know what to believe about the faith and the Gospel if I were alive as a Christian in the 2nd century of the Church? [My comments are a rephrasing of those I made recently here.]

Rule. The properly ordained bishops taught the true faith and the Gospel in the 2nd century. Irenaeus tells us, "It is possible, then, for everyone in every church, who may wish to know the truth, to contemplate the tradition of the apostles which has been made known to us throughout the whole world. And we are in a position to enumerate those who were instituted bishops by the apostles and their successors down to our own times, men who neither knew nor taught anything like what these heretics [the Gnostics] rave about" (Against Heresies, 3:3:1 [A.D. 189]).

Analysis. Since properly ordained bishops held the truth, I would have believed about the faith and the Gospel what my local bishop taught me.

While the successor-bishops taught the true Christian faith, they did not do so infallibly (indeed, even the Apostle Peter could err, as Paul made plain in Galatians 2:11 ff. ("When Peter came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he was clearly in the wrong.")). If I had doubts about my bishop's teachings, I would assure myself that all proper authorities are given by God (cf. Matt. 10:1, 2 Cor. 10:8, 13:10, 1 Thes. 4:2, Titus 2:15), and that we are to submit to our proper spiritual authorities (as Paul tells us in Heb. 13:17 "Obey your leaders and submit to their authority. They keep watch over you as men who must give an account. Obey them so that their work will be a joy, not a burden, for that would be of no advantage to you."). Therefore, if in fact my bishop were in doctrinal or practical error, I would have remained submitted to him as my proper authority (trusting that any culpability for such error would rest with him and not me). I would trust that his fellow bishops, speaking for the Church, would eventually call him to correction.

What would my alternate be?
- Declare myself a bishop? I would lack the authority to do that, if the proper authority is one ordained by a successor-bishop of the Apostles.
- Declare myself without a bishop, until my bishop came around to what I understood to be the truth? First, this would not be true submission, but conditional submission ('I submit under my terms'). Second, by what standard would I determine that I would again 'submit' to him? Scripture (as it existed at that point)? Even the heretics argued from Scripture (Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 1:3:6, "And it is not only from the writings of the evangelists and the apostles that they endeavour to derive proofs for their opinions by means of perverse interpretations and deceitful expositions: they deal in the same way with the law and the prophets, which contain many parables and allegories that can frequently be drawn into various senses, according to the kind of exegesis to which they are subjected.").

Conclusion. In the 2nd century, I would have believed that our God loves us enough to give us shepherds on earth, easily identifiable, that we can follow with trust and confidence. I would have followed the local bishop's explication of the Gospel, and submitted myself to his God-given authority.

Protestant Conversions Critique: Tradition

Pardon my being nearly two decades late, but a loved one recently brought to my attention an article by David Hagopian, Esq., entitled Romeward Bound: Evaluating Why Protestants Convert to Catholicism. It was originally published in an OPC church's magazine Antithesis, and is available here (at 11), and here. I would like to comment on this article; as near as I can Google, no one else has.

Mr. Hagopian analyzes, and asserts the fallacy of, a plethora of conversions from Protestantism to Catholicism. His goal is to help "Protestants to come to grips with the reasons why these Neocatholics [(his term)] have set their compasses toward Rome, because only then will Protestants be able to see some of the shortcomings of their espoused faith..." (internal citations omitted).

Tradition. Hagopian cites tradition as that which Neocatholics embrace "above all else". They think Catholicism is far "richer" because of its unique claims to living tradition and the teaching authority of the Apostles' successors.

He attempts to show the fallacy of this reason for conversion by first taking up the Catholic claim that the Church was founded on Peter, the rock. While conceding that "some Protestants" handle Matthew 16 ("for thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build my church") poorly, he addresses the Neocatholic's "unconvincing", question-begging interpretation of this passage. Even if Peter is the "rock" to which Christ referred, "Neocatholics simply assume that Christ thereby gave Peter papal authority" (emphasis in original). They "also assume that this passage grants a right of succession". Finally, "[u]ntil and unless Neocatholics can prove that Christ, in Matthew 16, specifically granted Peter papal authority and that Christ thereby intended to establish an unbroken chain of apostolic succession from Peter onward (both of which are read into the text), they have not met the exegetical burden that is incumbent upon them."

The last sentence speaks of an essential matter that I was surprised to see a lawyer presuppose. His argument is this: Catholics assume that Matthew 16 gave to Peter the papacy, and that this involved a right of succession, but since they cannot prove these assumptions, their position is false. His surprising presupposition is that the "burden" here is "incumbent" upon Catholics. But, I wonder, why would the onus probandi be on Catholics in their interpretation? If the Church Fathers refer to Peter as having some form of primacy over all the Bishops, and if the Church has maintained throughout the centuries that the Petrine See involved a type of succession, it seems instead that the onus is "incumbent" upon the party proferring an alternative understanding of Christ's designation of Peter as "rock" (if one insists on having burdens of proof at all). Perhaps Mr. Hagopian disagrees with this view of history, but in that case he would do well to address the matter, instead of presupposing that Neocatholics bear any burden in interpreting Matthew 16. Also, his argument presupposes that Catholics, or at least Neocatholics, look to prove their positions from Scripture alone.

He does address history enough to dispute Catholicism's claims to be the Church dating back to "antiquity". In a few sentences he seeks to debunk this claim. He tells us that, "along with dispensationalism, Catholicism simply assumes that the church sprang up in the first century A.D.", but that the proper "truly covenantal view" sees that the Church did not begin on Easter, but when God declared a covenant people for Himself (i.e., the Jews). "Thus", to be connected with antiquity, one should be Reformed Protestant.

I believe this is a non sequitur: if one believes that one should be affiliated with the church where it has ties to antiquity, since antiquity began with the Jews of the Old Covenant, one should be Reformed Protestant. How is Reformed Protestantism more affiliated with covenantal Jewish antiquity than, say, Orthodox Judaism? I believe Mr. Hagopian's position is that since the Reformed recognize the spiritual nature of the church as the new covenantal People of God, they therefore share in that nature. And since they share in it, they are the proper tie to "antiquity". But I believe Catholics also recognize that God has maintained a Covenant People from the Old Covenant onward (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, para. 1093). Therefore, they would seem to have a claim to "antiquity" either under the Neocatholics' purported view (back to the first Easter) or Mr. Hagopian's view (back to the Covenant with Abraham).

Also, Mr. Hagopian did not discuss how a 3rd or 10th or 14th century Christian would feel about this proposition on antiquity. I believe Christians of those eras would have held as today's Neocatholic does, namely, that their ties to the Christ-commissioned (new) Church validates their orthodoxy. As Christ is the culmination of the Old Covenant, a proper line of affiliation with Him is a line of affiliation to all of redemptive history.

To be continued (next up: Sola scriptura)...

Bryan Cross on Sola Scriptura

For a cogent argument that Sola scriptura necessarily entails an elevation of the individual Christian to the position of authoritative biblical interpreter, read this post at Principium Unitatis.

This is the argument to which I have continually returned, no matter how frustrated I have felt over other Catholic practices which have seemed wrong to my understanding, like Catholic Marian practices, what I perceived to be its universalistic tendencies, et cetera. This authority argument is the sine qua non of many conversions from Protestantism to Catholicism, it seems.

I have wrestled with it on numerous occasions, like here, and here.

I believe I have looked fairly far, and fairly wide, but have not seen a rebuttal to Bryan's position. That, in and of itself, seems indicative of something. It could mean his position is so absurd that it does not merit reply, but I doubt that. It could mean that his position is unassailable, and that may be.

George on Authority

George Weis has a good discussion going on Authority and the Church (never an old subject to me).

I just piped in, and hope you will too. I have found him to be genuine in his search for unity and truth within Christianity. Would, Lord, that we all had this virtue. May I follow his example.

Faith Hall of Fame

I've heard Hebrews 11 described as the "Hall of Fame" of faith. In it we are reminded of the great saints of the Old Testament, and how pleasing their great faith was to the Lord. You know the passage, "By faith Abraham, even though he was past age..." (a tongue-in-cheek reference; see my critique of the translation of verse 11 here).

I wonder what the reference to Abel means when it says "And by faith he still speaks, even though he is dead... (NIV, v.4)" Certainly it's not a reference to séances with the dearly departed. The NAB here, to me, seems a little clearer: "Through [Abel's faithful sacrifice] he was attested to be righteous, God bearing witness to his gifts, and through this, though dead, he still speaks."

Able speaks to me today, even though he is dead, by the witness I have received of his faithfulness. Two little thoughts from an old post help me draw meaning from this passage.

First, I would not know of Abel's (or any of the other Hall of Fame inductee's) faithfulness had it not been recorded for me in Scripture. In this way, Scripture bears witness to, or gives testimony about, what occurred. Without this testimony, Abel would be merely dead to me, not continuing to speak about how to live faithfully. And Scripture itself, as I noted in that old post, is only a sound witness where it is itself attested to me by reliable witnesses as the Word of God. I rely on a chain of testimony through the ages of the Church, because Scripture is not typically self-authenticating. It does not purport itself (in most parts) to be Holy Writ. So I believe that Abel's offering of firstfruits made "by faith" is a righteous act before God because a chain of witnesses through the ages attest to the validity of the Scripture attesting to this meaning of Abel's deeds.

Second, Abel (and the rest of the inductees) speak to me today as the great cloud of witnesses (Ch. 12, v. 1, which wraps up the Hall of Fame pericope). I have read the cloud of witnesses passage used in Catholic apologetics before, as a defense for the positions that those Saint-Christians who have gone before us are in this 'cloud'. As I said in that old post, I had previously thought of these saints in the Cloud as witnessing (i.e., observing) my life, watching me plod through this life, cheering me on. I believe though that, whether or not we add the Catholic Saints to those faithful in Hebrews 11, I previously had the meaning wrong. Those in this great cloud bear witness by the faithful lives they lived. They are not witnessing-seeing, they are witnessing-testifying. At least, that's how I see it when I read v.4 about Abel through to the cloud of witnesses text.

The question is, do I accept the testimony of these witnesses as I deliberate on how to conduct my own life?

Shepherds Prophesied

Jeremiah contains one prophesy about which I wonder whether it applies to our time under the New Covenant. Jeremiah 23 (NIV) says, "1 "Woe to the shepherds who are destroying and scattering the sheep of my pasture!" declares the LORD. 2 Therefore this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says to the shepherds who tend my people: "Because you have scattered my flock and driven them away and have not bestowed care on them, I will bestow punishment on you for the evil you have done," declares the LORD. 3 "I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the countries where I have driven them and will bring them back to their pasture, where they will be fruitful and increase in number. 4 I will place shepherds over them who will tend them, and they will no longer be afraid or terrified, nor will any be missing," declares the LORD. (emphasis added)"

I know some believe that this prophesy refers to a time other than now, under the New Covenant and before the end times. My NIV Study Note, in a similar passage in the following chapter, says that the prophecy of the return from the dispersion occurred in the 6th century B.C. A more charismatic view holds that this passage refers to the "end times", so we are not there yet. But if this is a promise that came to fruition at the time of Christ and His apostles, maybe it's prescient for my discernment process. To wit, if it refers to the New Covenant, then we should be under shepherds emplaced by God. If not, and sola Scriptura is true, then perhaps the prophesy would have been more accurate to state something like, 'I will place my infallible Written Word over them...'

The Catholic NAB footnote says of this pericope, "With the false rulers who have governed his people the Lord contrasts himself, the good shepherd, who will in the times of restoration appoint worthy rulers. (emphasis added)" So not surprisingly, the American Catholic Bishops impliedly support a reading that holds themselves to be the fulfillment of this prophesy.

Matthew Henry's Commentary notes here, "If some have abused a sacred office, that is no good reason why it should be abolished. [!Wow! Would he have applied this logic to Bishops' offices? To the Pope's office?] "They destroyed the sheep, but I will set shepherds over them who shall make it their business to feed them." Formerly they were continually exposed and disturbed with some alarm or other; but now they shall fear no more, nor be dismayed; they shall be in no danger from without, in no fright from within. ...Though the times may have been long bad with the church, it does not follow that they will be ever so. Such pastors as Zerubbabel and Nehemiah, though they lived not in the pomp that Jehoiakim and Jeconiah did, nor made such a figure, were as great blessings to the people as the others were plagues to them. The church's peace is not bound up in the pomp of her rulers." This language indicates Henry's view that the Old Covenant Jews were "church" with "pastors". Perhaps he would not see the old wineskins as so different from the new, but if he clearly thinks this prophecy of Jeremiah was fulfilled after Christ established his Apostles, he does not show his hand.

I'm inclined to think this passage does refer to the New Covenant, and am therefore inclined to think that we were promised by God in ancient times to have Shepherds (Bishops, overseers, elders?) appointed for our care. I'd be happy to receive correction, but here's why I think so:

"5 "The days are coming," declares the LORD,
"when I will raise up to David a righteous Branch,
a King who will reign wisely
and do what is just and right in the land.
6 In his days Judah will be saved
and Israel will live in safety.
This is the name by which he will be called:
The LORD Our Righteousness. (emphasis added)"

This is the continuing passage from chapter 23. Commentators seem to agree universally that this is messianic prophecy. Contextually, the days of return from dispersion referred to in this prophecy seem to be be the same as the days of the appearance the LORD Our Righteousness. So while the Jews may have returned in the 6th century B.C. before again being dispersed, it seems as if this prophecy speaks of a true union of Church under the Messiah.

Also, the following chapter, Jeremiah 24, describes God's people as good figs who will have hearts for Him, and whom He will never tear down.

"Then the LORD asked me, "What do you see, Jeremiah?" / "Figs," I answered. "The good ones are very good, but the poor ones are so bad they cannot be eaten." 4 Then the word of the LORD came to me: 5 "This is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: 'Like these good figs, I regard as good the exiles from Judah, whom I sent away from this place to the land of the Babylonians. 6 My eyes will watch over them for their good, and I will bring them back to this land. I will build them up and not tear them down; I will plant them and not uproot them. 7 I will give them a heart to know me, that I am the LORD. They will be my people, and I will be their God, for they will return to me with all their heart. (emphasis added)"

This later passage especially persuades me that the prophecy was not fully fulfilled at the first return from dispersion amongst the Babylonians. It is here that my NIV Study Notes say tersely (of v.6), "bring them back. In 538 B.C." When Christ came, he did not seem to think that God's people had returned to Him all their heart. So again, the return of the 6th century B.C. does not seem to fulfill this promise.

Are those promised in Jeremiah 23:4 the Apostles and their successor Bishops?

Charity And Ecumenicity

Bryan Cross, of PrincipiumUnitatis, asks 12 questions to challenge Protestants, here. These questions relate to authority, which he believes to be the "fundamental, meta-level source of all the divisions between Christians" (I happen to agree). No Protestant has yet attempted to answer these questions on his blog, though several have answered on a Protestant blog (where comments are not allowed, frustratingly), the Board's Head Tavern.

I've been wrestling with questions of authority for some time, and it's been a painful and frustrating experience. I've written often on authority, for example here, where I asked two similar questions (and no fellow Protestants attempted to answer these questions either). I've had the opportunity on at least five occasions to privately ask three different solidly Reformed pastors to answer these questions. To the man, they were unable to try. This is quite the soft underbelly of Protestantism, and I am saddened to see Christians come apart at the seams at the mere suggestion that our (Protestant) basis for authority is deficient.

One such unhemmed believer says that none of these questions on authority matter. This is a shame, and a major concession all in one. This brother rhetorically asks whether anyone has been saved by canon formation, by interpretations of scripture, by decrees of councils, etc. He ends, "Calvinism taught us that we are all worms. Ever see a worm? Worms don’t have a head. You pull a worm apart, you get more worms. That’s my model for how the church works."

If canon is irrelevant because no one was saved by its determination, then Luther's desired exclusion of James, or the Codex Sinaiticus' inclusion of the Shepherd of Hermas would have be equally valid. Which texts to be included in the Bible can be irrelevant to salvation only if the Bible itself is irrelevant to salvation (a concession I refuse to make).

The model of the church being composed of severed, multiplying worms could not be more sad. Christ prayer to the Father in John 17:20-21 (which I believe was properly included in the canon, though I'm not sure what the basis of my belief is, since no one can tell me) for "those who will believe in me through [the Apostles'] word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me." No, the world will not believe that God the Father sent God the Son if we are severed worms lacking unity. Indeed, none would believe that the Son is "God", coequal to the Father, without the work of councils, and prayerful efforts at ecclesial consensus.

So let us please consider the Faith handed down to us carefully, and, with charity and openness, discuss those which divide use. We are called to unity, after all. Perhaps being open to comments of reply when we post our views would be a good starting point.

Unauthorized Edition?

Two Christians were recently discussing the Church. One said to the other, "I don't understand how you can be comfortable remaining within Protestantism." The other said, "You've been in my shoes. What's so hard to understand?" And the first said, "When I was in your shoes, there were two questions to which I had never given thought. Once I did, and as I've found no satisfying answers, I am unable to go back."

Q1. What authority gave the rule that the Bible is the sole source of Authority for God's Church?

Q2. What authority defined the Bible's canon as containing these 66 particular books?

[I variously considered these questions in these two posts: here and here.]

The comfortable Protestant often falls back on observations of the grave depravity of the Western Church at the time of the Reformation. The uncomfortable one is not even able to appreciate the strength of sentiments a faithful Christian would have felt in Luther's time, watching their Bishops and Pope lay waste to the holy visage of the Church. However, the questions above still stand.

Who sent you (cf. Acts 15:24)? By whose authority do you declare this new teaching?

But then, the comfortable Protestant fairly asks, "Where does it say in Scripture that the Church would be preserved from all error?" Any takers?

Credo Epilogue: Anticredalism

All churches have Creeds. Creed, of course, is of the Latin word "Credo", or "I believe". I've said before that the non-denominational utterance "no creed but Christ, no book but the Bible" is itself a creed. Some churches believe that no one set of beliefs can be right; that too is a belief. The PCA has its own little creed. All churches have a set of beliefs, so all churches have Creeds.

Protestants necessarily teach that all statements of belief are valid (i.e., Truthful) only insofar as they agree with the Scriptures. [I will set aside for now the antecedent problem that this belief follows a priori a belief subject to untruthfulness.] If formulations of belief are only valid where they agree with the Bible, then their worth is as a forum for discussion, an opportunity to strive toward the Truths within the Bible.

Consequently, creeds should always be open to debate, handling, picking apart, and modifying. And that means that no one should be bound ever to subscribe to a belief in one system of theology as Truth. No one should be bound ever to submit to a particular form of ecclesial governance. These things can only be right insofar as they agree with the Bible, and whether they agree with the Bible needs to remain open for debate (for the individual's determination). To lock one into a particular fallible articulation of Truth locks one out of considering that that articulation may be inaccurate, which locks one into a belief that it is accurate, which conflicts with the protestant view that nothing but Scripture is infallible. Phew.

So, to the Protestant mind, no vows for church membership or officership should be taken, other than a vow to the Prior of Priors, that the Bible is God's only Authoritative Revelation. And how the Prior of Priors obtained to infallible status is (as I humbly see it) the great logical flaw of the Reformation.

Newman on Bible as Authority

I'm not very far into it, but John Henry Cardinal Newman's famous An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine has already given me much to ponder. Consider his discussion on the Bible as infallible authority.

Pardon the long quote, but if you are interested in church authority, it will be worth your time.

"The common sense of mankind... feels that the very idea of revelation implies a present informant and guide, and that an infallible one; not a mere abstract declaration of Truths unknown before to man, or a record of history, or the result of an antiquarian research, but a message and a lesson speaking to this man and that. This is shown by the popular notion which has prevailed among us since the Reformation, that the Bible itself is such a guide; and which succeeded in overthrowing the supremacy of Church and Pope, for the very reason that it was a rival authority, not resisting merely, but supplanting it. In proportion, then, as we find, in matter of fact, that the inspired volume is not adapted or intended to subserve that purpose, are we forced to revert to that living and present Guide, who, at the era of our rejection of her, had been so long recognized as the dispenser of Scripture, according to times and circumstances, and the arbiter of all true doctrine and holy practice to her children. We feel a need, and she alone of all things under heaven supplies it. We are told that God has spoken. Where? In a book? We have tried it and it disappoints; it disappoints us, that most holy and blessed gift, not from fault of its own, but because it is used for a purpose for which it was not given. The Ethiopian's reply, when St. Philip asked him if he understood what he was reading, is the voice of nature: "How can I, unless some man shall guide me?" The Church undertakes that office; she does what none else can do, and this is the secret of her power...

"The most obvious answer, then, to the question, why we yield to the authority of the Church in the questions and developments of faith, is, that some authority there must be if there is a revelation given, and other authority there is none but she. A revelation is not given, if there be no authority to decide what it is that is given. In the words of St. Peter to her Divine Master and Lord, "To whom shall we go?" Nor must it be forgotten in confirmation, that Scripture expressly calls the Church "the pillar and ground of the Truth," and promises her as by covenant that "the Spirit of the Lord that is upon her, and His words which He has put in her mouth shall not depart out of her mouth, nor out of the mouth of her seed, nor out of the mouth of her seed's seed, from henceforth and for ever." [citing 1 Tim. 3:16* and Isa. 59:21] (from Chapter 2, Section II, emphasis added)"

* I believe this should be 1 Tim. 3: 15.

Peter, Oakseed Of Papalism

Sometimes it's hard to remember why I ever got swept up in curiosity about the Apostolic Churches. The more I experience of Catholicism in practice, the more I find that makes me cringe.

But then I look back, and my memory is quickly revived. In Protestantism, all truth seems relative, made subject to individual will. Authority is tentatively placed in the hands of 66 Bible books, but no one can explain, without reaching for pluriform post hoc justifications, what the authority of the placement of the Bible as authority and the definition of its canon was.

19th-Century Orthodox writer Vladimir Soloviev has had some of his writings recompiled into the brief book "The Russian Church and the Papacy". Catholic Answers publishes the work, which gives a noteworthy critique of the Eastern Orthodox approach to church authority (especially biting is his articulated claim that secular emperors orchestrated the various heresies the Church has faced). The recent ecumenical dialogue between the Catholic Church and certain Orthodox theologians makes his discussion of the authoritative, and not merely honorific, primacy of the Roman Bishop seem prescient. There's nothing like authority to cure malaise over individualism.

He says about the development of the doctrine of Papal Primacy:

"Scripture tells us of the primacy of Peter; his right to absolute sovereign authority in the Church is attested by Orthodox tradition [(having previously cited, inter alia, St. John Chrysostom)]; but no one possessed of any historical feeling or indeed of any ordinary common sense would expect to find legally defined powers taking effect according to fixed rules in the primitive Church, not only of the period when "the multitude of believers had but one heart and one soul" but also long after. There is always the temptation to expect to find the branches of the oak in the acorn. The real and living seed of the supreme authority of the Church which we discern in the prince of the apostles could only be displayed in the primitive Church by practical leadership on the part of Peter in every matter which concerned the universal Church, and this is what we actually find int he Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles (emphasis mine; pp. 152-153)."

Studying doctrinal development has been challenging and rewarding. I recommend it to anyone hoping to learn from the practices of the early Church.

The Inflating Balloon Of Liberty

I recently read Justice Brennan's dissent in a case about presumptive paternity within marriage in spite of blood tests proving otherwise, Michael H. v. Gerald D, 491 U.S. 110 (1989). It stoked my curiosity of whether liberalization in democratic states and churches is a one-way street:

"...the plurality ignores the kind of society in which our Constitution exists. We are not an assimilative, homogeneous society, but a facilitative, pluralistic one, in which we must be willing to abide someone else's unfamiliar or even repellent practice because the same tolerant impulse protects our own idiosyncrasies..."

This case is set up in my Constitutional Law class in the sequence of discussions over contraceptive rights, abortion rights, marriage rights (for prisoners, the indigent, etc.), and homosexual sodomy rights. Brennan's angst that his judgment of another's lifestyle is indistinguishable from another's judgment of his is patent. In all these cases, the unspoken rule seems to be this: if no one individual is fit (i.e., has moral authority) to pass judgment over another, a "liberty" is granted. This, I believe, is the direction we have been in, and will continue to be in until the end.

Can anyone think of an example where a democratic populous has enjoyed an individual "liberty" and then forsaken it for the good of the whole? Certainly slave owners had the individual "liberty" to possess other human beings as chattel, but that was a loggerhead conflict set in motion from before our nationhood, ultimately resolved only after the spilling of tremendous blood (and not by the democratic process). It is hard for me to imagine that this populous, now that it has enjoyed easy divorce for so long, could willingly revert to the more disciplined and principled approach of days gone by. Likewise, it is hard to imagine a wholesale sacrifice (i.e., giving up) of the personal "liberty" enjoyed in getting to abort an unwanted fetus-child (though I can imagine a scenario where certain artificial limitations are put in place to quell a guilty conscience, as was done by the Partial-Birth Abortion Act).

We hunger to do as we please, and to have our actions legitimized by the populous.

Same with denominationalism. Once a group of like-minded Christians decide they are going to enjoy a liberty of conscience over a particular matter, why would they sacrifice this individual liberty to the will of the whole? It is hard for me to imagine the PCA, for example, deciding that, since strict Sabbath observance is the plain meaning of our confession, and since Sabbatarianism has a fine pedigree within the Reformed faith, the exception granted to elders on this teaching should be withdrawn. This will not happen. Likewise, denominations that have embraced the ordination of women as normative will not revoke that hard-fought personal "liberty".

It is this singular direction in which liberty marches that has caused so much schism within Protestantism. One cannot reign in democratic liberty, so one's only option is to start a new democracy. Liberty, individual liberty, is like an inflating balloon with a one-way valve. It will never give it's air back to the democratic collective, and it will eventually burst.

Vows Of Submission

I was looking back to the vows I took when I joined a PCA church, when I came across L. Roy Taylor's article entitled PCA: A Hierarchical Church?. In it he describes the nature of authority within the PCA, and the weight of the fifth and final vow of membership. This vow reads, "Do you submit yoursel[f] to the government and discipline of the Church, and promise to study its purity and peace?"

I should set the table by noting how the PCA's Confession treats the taking of vows. Chapter XXII of the Westminster Confession of Faith (WCOF) states that oaths and vows are a swearing to solemnly call God to witness an assertion "to witness what he asserts, or promises, and to judge him according to the truth or falsehood of what he swears." Oaths are to be taken, it later says, in the plain and literal sense of the words.

In his article, Taylor says, "One of the major reasons for the formation of the PCA was to revert to a democratic Presbyterianism [from what is now the PCUSA]."

I admit that this has nothing to do with the Fifth Vow, the subject of this post. But I wanted to include this assertion that the PCA is democratic (as in, follows the will of the people). I've had people in PCA churches bitterly object to my making this assertion.

Taylor continues, "In recent court cases involving employment law, the PCA successfully argued that as a non-hierarchal denomination, local church pastors and local church staff members are not employees of a Presbytery or the General Assembly."

This gets closer to a point I'll get to -- for now, note that the particular 'church' at which I make vows is not, strictly speaking, the same being (i.e., entity) as the PCA.

"The PCA argued that the relationship of a PCA minister to a Presbytery is analogous to that of a lawyer with a bar association. The bar association examines the lawyer regarding expertise and character, but a law firm, not the bar, is the attorney’s employer."

Even further. The particular church at which I make vows is my representative (to follow the language of this analogy). I have no direct relationship to the PCA denomination, but only indirectly benefit from the order and structure it provides to my particular church.

"When a person joins a congregation he voluntarily takes a vow to submit himself to the government and discipline of the church (BCO 57-5.5)." And, "When members, ruling elders, deacons and ministers take such vows they voluntarily place themselves under the spiritual authority of the Church."

Now we're here: I voluntarily submitted myself to the government and discipline of the "church", that is, under the spiritual authority (there can be no higher kind of authority, by the way) of the "Church." My question is this: was this submission to the particular church, to the Presbyterian Church in America, or to Christ's Church with an unapologetic capital "C"? If Taylor's bar association analogy bears any weight, the middle option seems to be easily ruled out. But then, I am under the same authority as ministers (commonly called teaching elders in the PCA), and ministers are not members of particular churches, but of the Presbytery itself. So that seems to eliminate the particular church as the intended meaning of the vow. Finally, it doesn't seem that the vow can refer to the Capital "C" church, because we would disregard expressions of discipline from other sectors of Christianity out of hand (indeed, I think I know of one or more anathemas directed our way). I'm confused, but Taylor is good enough to flesh the meaning of the BCO's vows a little further.

"By taking the vows of membership or ordination one agrees to abide by the authority of the court of original jurisdiction and higher courts as well because of the spiritual connectionalism of the Church (BCO 11-3, 11-4). Once the higher court has handled the matter finally, there is, because of the vows they have taken and theological beliefs they have espoused, a moral responsibility (though not a legal obligation) to abide by the final disposition of the matter as long as they are members of the PCA. A person may think that he cannot in good conscience accept the final disposition of the matter after the complaint or appellate process is complete, in which case he may leave the PCA without coercion."

So it was the PCA to which I submitted? The client is bound by the dealings of the of bar association (to use his analogy) after all. Or is he bound at all? Taylor allows for (and his strikes me as a common view) departure from the denomination when the jurisdiction of the court, to which he vowed submission before God, renders a decision that conflicts with his own good conscience.

Perhaps we'd be better off to not vow at all than to scorn the submission we pledged when we believe a court acted out of line with Scripture?