Posted by deangonzales on November 24, 2009
In Recovering the Reformed Confession: Our Theology, Piety, and Practice, R. Scott Clark argues that modern Reformed churches are in the midst of an identity crisis. Like ships that have lost their moorings in the night and becomes aimlessly adrift at sea, they are without course, without compass, and without captain. It is not Clark’s aim, however, to point out problems without offering solutions. Clark not only details what he sees as the modern Reformed malaise, but also lays out his vision of a Reformed recovery. What he champions is a robust, historical and exhaustive return to confessiononalism. Clark’s position is that the Reformed identity is defined by the historic Confession, and by the manner in which the church and her ministers subscribe to those documents.
The first chapter is introductory, and sets the stage for us by defining the terms of the book as Clark will be using them. In using the term “Reformed,” Clark intends to speak of the theology, piety and practice laid out in the six major confessions of the continental and British churches descendent from John Calvin. In this introduction he also begins to level his charges against modern Reformed folk. The essence of his concern is that the theology, piety and practice of the modern Reformed churches include much that would be alien and even antithetical to the theology, piety and practice of their Reformed forefathers.
The remaining chapters of the book are divided into two parts. Part one, which consists of chapters two and three, details the current crisis of Reformed identity. This section of the book is where Clark presents his evidence to support the accusations leveled in his introduction. This evidence is presented as two illegitimate quests. Like David leering at the bathing Bathsheba, it is argued that these two quests have caught the eye of the Reformed churches and have caused them to turn from the good old paths, running headlong toward folly and mischief.
The first element of the crisis is the Quest for Illegitimate Religious Certainty (QIRC). Clark writes, “QIRC is the pursuit to know God in ways he has not revealed himself and to achieve epistemic and moral certainty on questions where such certainty is neither possible nor desirable” (p. 39). In other words, having failed to maintain a robust, historic confessionalism, Reformed Christianity has been truncated. Reformed folk have sought to fill this vacuum with the QIRC, searching for some new sense of security and identity. Clark gives three examples of this QIRC: the desire to make a literal six day/twenty-four hour understanding of creation a test of Reformed orthodoxy, the desire to claim O.T. theocratic law and regulation as binding in exhaustive detail, and the desire to bring new innovations to our understanding of obedience and justification under the heading of covenant moralism. Clark dismisses each of these desires as either misguided and ill informed (creation debates), or contrary to the confession and dangerous (theonomy and covenant moralism). In each case, it is his view that preoccupation with these issues shows how untethered Reformed folk have become from their confession. Clark believes that the confession settles these matters for us, if we would but return to it as our standard and rule.
Clark titles the second half of the crisis, and his third chapter, the Quest for Illegitimate Religious Experience (QIRE). He now turns his critique to the spirit of revivalism as displayed in the Great Awakening and especially as personified by Jonathan Edwards and his modern celebrators. To Clark, revival in any form is incompatible with reformation. Revival seeks the immediate and extraordinary movement of God in the hearts of men, often divorced from the church and her ordinances, and as such is hopelessly infected with pietism. Reformation, conversely, makes due use of ordinary means as prescribed in Scripture and administered weekly in the church, and in these things finds satisfaction and rest.
To Clark, a high view of revival (and the direct, relational communion with God it entails) necessitates a low view of the church (especially of her confession, and of God’s appointed means of grace). This dichotomy runs throughout the book, and is evident in comments like the one found on page 330: “perhaps attendance to the second [worship] service is actually a better indicator of spiritual maturity than are the calluses on our knees and the wear on our Bibles.” Some of Clark’s views will be interacted with critically below, but a word must be said at this point. Clark’s dichotomy between reformation and revival (and thus between the means of grace and private piety) is indicative of the major flaw in his analysis. Why must attendance to the second worship service be set against private prayer and Bible reading? Why must a high view of the means of grace necessitate a low view of private piety? God’s Word, which has the final say in such matters, has a high view of both.
Having diagnosed the crisis, Clark spends the rest of his pages detailing what a healthy recovery should look like. The remaining five chapters form Part Two of the book, titled “The Recovery.” Chapters four and five are essentially a plea for honesty about what the confession says, what the confession means, and what the confession mandates for us in theology, piety, and practice. Chapter six caps this discussion by highlighting the benefits and joys of a robust and full submission to the Reformed confession. The last two chapters of the book offer a very detailed survey of the exegesis, history, and confessional tradition associated with the Lord’s Day and Christian worship. Clark’s vision for rejuvenated Reformed worship revolves around a strict adherence to the Regulative Principle of Worship, a central view of the means of grace, and the reinstitution of a second Lord’s Day worship service.
It is clear that R. Scott Clark is a man of considerable academic ability who has a deep passion for the health and faithfulness of the church. He brings thorough research and a keen mind to nearly all of the topics with which he interacts. There is much value in working through his arguments and considering his conclusions. This does not mean, however, that his conclusions should be agreed with or supported. In fact, he reaches many conclusions that are profoundly misguided and some even dangerous to the theology, piety, and practice of the church.
Before those concerns are addressed, the book’s positive contributions should be acknowledged. Clark effectively calls evangelicals searching for religion with greater substance to take up the banner of being Reformed. His invitation to resist Rome, Constantinople, and the Emergent Village in favor of Geneva is timely and stirring. Reformed folk must strive for the sort of visibility and credibility that will make this a viable option for disillusioned evangelicals.
Clark is correct, as well, when he argues for the inevitability and general benefits of being confessional. Under his relentless logic, the maxim “no creed but Scripture” is exposed as a fallacy. Furthermore, this book contains considerable amounts of very sound and helpful exegetical and historical research. Of special note is the logical and convincing exegesis of John 4:23-24, and the excellent survey of the Christian Sabbath from Biblical, confessional, and historical perspectives.
However, as previously noted, these positive elements are found in the midst of some troubling material. There are issues that Clark deals with which deserve a response beyond the scope of this review. Many of these issues, such as his extreme application of the Regulative Principle of Worship and his strict dichotomy between objective and subjective religious experiences are urgent in that they bear directly on church practice. In addition to the criticism of his views on the QIRE offered above, only one area of concern will be highlighted here for criticism.
Even as he criticizes the QIRC and the QIRE, there is a quest which Clark himself undertakes in Recovering the Reformed Confession. We can call this the Quest for Illegitimate Religious Traditionalism (QIRT). The QIRT is the desire to settle all questions of theology, piety and practice by total submission to the historic Reformed confession, as interpreted by the animus imponentis. This is an illegitimate quest and ought not be pursued for three reasons.
First, it is an illegitimate quest because it muddles the theological method. Confessions, like any work that systematizes the truths of Scripture, are always to be derived from sound exegesis. It is exegesis, with subordinate input from historical theology, which must always be the foundation of the church’s theology.
Unfortunately, this does not seem to be the operative method for R. Scott Clark. It seems that for Clark, the confession is authoritative. It is the confession, interpreted by history, which drives exegesis. The reader begins to get a flavor of this muddled method when Clark remarks, “Not every appeal to Scripture is Reformed or reforming. Any appeal to Scripture that fundamentally overturns what it is to be Reformed cannot itself be a Reformed appeal to Scripture” (p. 25). If this were the only such statement in the book, it might be forgiven as slightly misguided zeal for one’s heritage, but this is not an isolated sentiment.
A more direct example of this muddled method occurs when Clark sets out to build exegetical evidence for his strict interpretation of the Regulative Principle of Worship. Clark argues that the Regulative Principle requires instruments and uninspired songs to be abandoned; while at the same time he insists on a mandatory second worship service. On pages 337-338, he surveys texts from Genesis, Exodus, Ezra, 1 Chronicles, and the Psalms as they relate to these issues. His reading of these texts is clearly shaped and submitted to confessional and historical concerns. He is able in just a few sentences to dismiss any exegetical content that does not support his agenda as merely typological, while insisting that any exegetical material that does support his agenda has abiding validity. The following passage is typical: “Psalm 141:2 is attributed to King David, and he speaks of ‘lifting up’ his hands ‘as the evening sacrifice.’ Of course, these passages were given during the church’s typological period so they apply to us only figuratively. Christ is our sacrifice, our priest, and our temple. Nevertheless, they do give evidence that the ‘morning and evening’ pattern of creation has some continuing place in our re-creation” (pp. 337-338). In other words, any material from the Old Testament that does not support the agenda (clear use of instruments, composing new songs) is typological and any material that does support the agenda (morning and evening pattern of worship) establishes a compelling pattern. Clark’s exegesis is the servant of his systematic and historical theology, thus confusing the proper theological method.
Second, this QIRT is illegitimate because Clark crosses the line into a dangerous confessionalism. “Dangerous” is a strong word, but it is appropriate when the living Word of God is made to share its throne as our supreme authority with a man-made document. “Is not my word like a fire?” says the LORD, “and like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces?” Confessions are valuable, and they may even be precious to us. But they are not like fire. They are not a discerner of the heart. They are not God-breathed.
The opponents of the use of a confession of faith usually accuse its proponents of confessionalism, which is the tendency to give a confession of faith equal or higher authority than the Scriptures. This is generally a false charge, but in the case of R. Scott Clark, it seems sadly appropriate.
The reader begins to get uncomfortable early on, when Clark remarks that “…sola scriptura [does] not teach that the Bible means what one says it does, but that the Scriptures, being God’s Word, form the church, and the church in subjection to the Scriptures is able to interpret them well enough to decide controversies”(pp. 25-6). While Clark’s zeal for ecclesiastical authority may make some uncomfortable, this passage could be taken as nothing more than a proper condemnation of the widespread distortion of sola scriptura into solo scriptura. If Clark simply set out to critique the “Tradition 0” zeitgeist, and to build a better understanding of “Tradition I,” there would no reason for alarm. Although this healthy return to Tradition 1 is Clark’s stated goal, he seems to have overshot that mark. A statement such as the one made brazenly and with only weak qualification on page 178, that “the authority of the confession is…tantamount to that of Scripture, assuming that a given confession is biblical,” leaves no doubt as to whether R. Scott Clark has crossed a line that ought not to be crossed.
This quote is taken from the context of Clark’s interaction with the writings of R. B. Kuiper. Writing in 1926, Kuiper objected to the practice of the ecclesiastical courts in appealing to the confession as authoritative, without feeling the need to check the confession against Scripture. It was Kuiper’s concern that this practice might give the impression that the church had adopted a dangerous confessionalism, wherein the confession was nearly “tantamount” to Scripture. Clark’s reply, by way of the animus imponentis, is that the confession is indeed tantamount to Scripture in authority.
Clark can make this assertion with a straight face (one assumes) because he qualifies it by saying that the confession must, of course, be Biblical (quia subscription). Even ignoring the monstrous problem of getting any two Christians to agree that a given confession is utterly Biblical in the sort of exhaustive detail required to make such a view tenable, equating the authority of the confession with that of the Bible evidences a profound misunderstanding of why the Bible is authoritative. The Bible is not authoritative simply because it is true and accurate in the sort of strict forensic way that can be reproduced in a confession, but because it is the living Word of God Almighty. The Word’s authority is derived from its God breathed, self-attesting character. A man can and should faithfully confess the truths he learns from God’s Word, but he cannot replicate its authority. The authority of the confession is authoritative only in so far (quatenus subscription) as it states what can be clearly shown in the Scriptures. Thus, even if it is completely Biblical, the authority of the confession is never tantamount to that of God’s Word. The cleanest mirror in all the world is still just a reflection; it is never on equal footing with reality.
Third, the QIRT is illegitimate because it simply cannot be consistently maintained. Clark paints a romantic picture of quia subscription and heady conformity to the animus imponentis which simply does not match reality. Consistency cannot even be maintained within the pages of Recovering the Reformed Confession. On page 318 he addresses the diversity in how the Reformed churches have understood the Sabbath. If there is diversity on an issue as central to our theology, piety, and practice as the Sabbath, can we really speak of the Reformed Confession in the singular tense? Exactly which understanding of the Sabbath is to be recovered? Clark is aware of this inconsistency and seeks to alleviate it by appealing to the substantive agreement on the main points of the Sabbath in the Reformed confession. This is a fine tactic for one holding to quatenus subscription, but Clark has already overplayed his hand at this point.
Clark has painted himself into a corner by way of his own strident confessionalism. It is not consistent to state that “…the Scriptures, being God’s Word, form the church, and the church in subjection to the Scriptures is able to interpret them well enough to decide controversies” (p. 26), yet on page 270 suggest that the disagreements between the a capella Psalter crowd and the more mainstream Reformed worshipers be settled by a compromise. Again, this may be a fine and equatable way for a church to settle a dispute, but why does Clark get to break his own rules at this point?
These three concerns make up the Quest for Illegitimate Religious Traditionalism. Clark’s zeal in these matters is beyond question, and his earnest pursuit of what he believes would be a more healthy and faithful Church is admirable. However, his muddled theological approach, his dangerous confessionalism, and his inconsistency expose this quest as illegitimate. It should be repeated again that this quest is not isolated. Clark pushes too far in several directions, though none of them as directly inappropriate as in this QIRT. Even with these major concerns, this is a book which ought to be read by any who attach the adjective Reformed to their denominational identity. Iron sharpens iron, and R. Scott Clark has issued a challenge to seriously consider the foundations of our theology, piety and practice. May all God’s people be sharper for it, and may they faithfully confess the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ until He gathers them home.
Nicolas Alford, Student
Reformed Baptist Seminary
Posted by Domski on November 10, 2009
The concept of the Regulative Principle of worship has been known and applied for centuries. References to “the principle,” “principles of truth,” “rule for regulating,” and the like are scattered throughout older writings. There is, however, some uncertainty about the precise origin of the term “regulative principle of worship.” R. J. Gore finds no explicit mention of it prior to the 20th century. Sherman Isbell credits John Murray as having first coined the term in a report presented to the Thirteenth General Assembly of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church in 1946. “After its use in the 1946 OPC report by John Murray, the prominence given the phrase “regulative principle of worship,” in Dr. [William] Young’s 1957 Puritan conference paper and in Iain Murray’s for 1963, as well in Reformation of the Church (1964), probably did much to cement the phrase as the title for the confessional Presbyterian and Puritan principle.” During and after the 1970s, the expression was used with increasing frequency until it eventually became a standard term in Reformed vocabulary.
Historical Overview
The historical roots of what is known today as the Regulative Principle of worship can be traced back to the Protestant Reformation. Rome had elevated human traditions to a place of authority equal or superior to Scripture and imposed them upon God’s people. Both Luther and Calvin, united in their opposition to Rome, were persuaded of the sole authority and sufficiency of Scripture, and desired to restore the pure worship of the primitive church.
How would this be done? At this point an important difference between Luther and Calvin began to emerge. Luther would allow what Scripture did not condemn. Calvin, on the other hand, would allow only what Scripture commanded. Luther would do what Scripture didn’t prohibit. Calvin would do only what Scripture prescribed. From this essential difference centuries of controversy ensued.
Debate initially crystallized in the conflict between the Reformed and Lutheran churches and the Anglican and Puritan churches during the late 16th and early 17th centuries. Lutherans and Anglicans agreed that much about Roman Catholic worship was contrary to and forbidden by Scripture. However, they agreed with Rome that the church has the authority to impose ceremonies and rites as necessary elements of worship, provided that they are not contrary to Scripture. This view eventually came to be known as the Normative Principle of worship.
In opposition to the Normative Principle, Calvin, and later on to a larger extent, the Puritans articulated what eventually became known as the Regulative Principle of worship. They contended that the church has authority to impose only those rites and ceremonies that have positive warrant in Scripture. Nothing may be done in worship unless Scripture requires it. Not only did Calvin and the Puritans see this principle as the proper application of Sola Scriptura to the worship of the church. They also considered it necessary to safeguard liberty of conscience.
The Regulative Principle came to have a firm confessional basis, and was strongly attested to by theologians and churchmen throughout the 16th and 17th centuries. Nevertheless, its influence began to wane in the 18th century and largely lost its hold in the Reformed community by the early 19th century. There were many reasons for this, some of which include: a general decline in Reformed piety and orthodoxy; the influence of revivalism with its attendant emotionalism and distaste for denominational distinctives; increasing rationalism with its appeal to reason apart from the Bible; the gradual rise of secularism and pluralism both inside and outside the church.
By the opening of the 20th century, Calvinism was on the decline and liberalism on the rise. Conservative churchmen locked arms with Fundamentalists in the fight against modernism which at the time seemed more important than the doctrines of grace or the details of worship. By the 1940s the Regulative Principle was almost completely forgotten. Only a few churches here and there were careful to hold to it. But as conservatives awakened to the dangers of liberal theology, they also began to rediscover their theological roots. In the mid 1940s, a few lone voices called for a reexamination of the doctrine of worship. These included John Murray, William Young, and Johannes G. Vos. During the 50s and 60s others followed after them, calling attention to what had become popularly known as “the Regulative Principle of worship.”
Throughout the 1970s, the Regulative Principle continued to receive attention, but uncertainty and confusion about it prevailed. Deep divisions developed between conservatives like Michael Bushell who favored “traditional” Presbyterian worship, and progressives like C. John Miller who saw the worship service as a means to an evangelistic end.
The decade of the 80s saw both growing support for and opposition to the Regulative Principle. The advent of the personal computer and desktop publishing made it possible for individuals and small publishers to produce articles, tracts, and books both old and new concerning the Regulative Principle in much greater numbers. During this period, Reformed Baptists began to take a greater interest in the Puritan doctrine.
By the 1990s the subject of the Regulative Principle could no longer be avoided. With the growth of the Internet, material concerning the doctrine came in even greater amounts. Support for the traditional understanding of the Regulative Principle increased. So did the severity of criticism it received, but with at least one important difference: Now some of those who were in opposition claimed to be confessional. Most notably among these were R. J. Gore, John M. Frame, and Steven M. Schlissel.
In the first decade of the 21st century, material concerned with the Regulative Principle came at a faster pace than ever. Some denied the doctrine altogether. Others interpreted it in a manner that made it barely recognizable. Still others maintained the doctrine and advocated the traditional approach to it.
Scriptural Demonstration
Those who hold the traditional view of the Regulative Principle are generally agreed in the way they demonstrate it from Scripture. Key passages usually include the Second Commandment in Exodus 20:4-6 and Deuteronomy 5:8-10; the offering of strange fire in Leviticus 10:1-3; the warning against false worship in Deuteronomy 12:32; the death of Uzza in 2 Samuel 6:1-11 and 1 Chronicles 13:5-14; the prohibition of adding to the Word of God in Proverbs 30:5, 6; the warning against false worship in Jeremiah 7:31; Jesus’ conflict with the Pharisees over the commandments of God and the traditions of men in Matthew 15:1-9 and Mark 7:1-13; Jesus’ teaching about worship in spirit and truth in John 4:22-24; the warning against will worship in Colossians 2:23; and the prohibition of adding to or subtracting from the Word of God in Revelation 22:18, 19. From these and other passages it is argued that the Bible explicitly condemns all worship that is not commanded by God.
In addition to Scriptural exposition, theological arguments are employed. From the authority and sufficiency of Scripture, the sovereignty of God, the total depravity of man, and other biblical themes, it is argued that it is God’s exclusive prerogative to determine the terms on which sinners may approach Him in worship; that the introduction of extra-biblical practices into worship inevitably tends to nullify and undermine God’s appointed worship; and that the addition of any unappointed elements into worship effectively calls into question the wisdom of Christ and the sufficiency of Scripture.
Nuances in Definition
Those who hold to the traditional view of the Regulative Principle of worship are generally agreed in the way they define it. “Whatever is commanded by God for worship is required, and whatever is not commanded by God is forbidden.” Some opponents claim that this rule is too restrictive, and impossible to practice. To this it is countered that such a characterization of the Regulative Principle is actually a misrepresentation of it, a caricature, a straw man that no one holds; that in addition to explicit commands, warrant can be derived from biblically sanctioned example and from good and necessary consequence, a theological concept articulated in the Westminster Confession of Faith and the Savoy Declaration.
Still, the fact remains that the requirement of explicit command is at the heart of the traditional understanding of the Regulative Principle of worship. Some are dissatisfied with simply saying that God must be worshiped according to His Word. For them, mere consistency with Scripture isn’t sufficient. Positive warrant is necessary for worship to be acceptable to God. The real question isn’t what may we do, but what must we do. Even among these, however, differing nuances of emphasis can be found. For example, some stress the positive, prescriptive nature of the Regulative Principle; others, its negative, proscriptive nature.
Frame distinguishes between the historical and normative definitions of the Regulative Principle. He asserts,
…define RPW historically from the British Reformed theological/confessional tradition; define it normatively by the Scriptures…At the outset, we should assume that such a normative definition may or may not agree with the historical definition of the term.
Given the many nuances in defining the Regulative Principle, it is not surprising to find considerable differences in both theory and practice among contemporary adherents. Between Schwertley on the conservative end, and Frame on the progressive end, moderates like David J. Engelsma, Terry L. Johnson, and Richard L. Pratt, Jr. may be found.
Elements and Circumstances
It would be unreasonable to expect Scripture to provide explicit commands for absolutely everything in worship. It is therefore universally recognized that the Regulative Principle as traditionally understood cannot be absolutely applied. This fact necessitates its qualification. This is accomplished by making a distinction between so-called ‘elements’ and ‘circumstances.’ Elements are the parts of worship which are religious in themselves such as prayer and preaching. The Regulative Principle applies only to these. Circumstances are the things surrounding the elements which are not religious in themselves such as the time and place of worship. The Regulative Principle doesn’t apply to these. The category of circumstances is derived from the confessions of faith. Samuel E. Waldron explains this important qualification of the Regulative Principle.
When we say that what is not commanded is forbidden, we are speaking of the substance and parts of worship (see para. 2-6), not its circumstance. There are certain minor circumstantial details that God has left to be determined by the light of nature, Christian prudence, and the general rules of Scripture.
The Puritan distinction of elements from circumstances is as helpful as it is brilliant. But it is not entirely free from difficulty. Cunningham observes,
But even this distinction between things and circumstances cannot always be applied very certainly; that is, cases have occurred in which there might be room for a difference of opinion, whether a proposed regulation or arrangement was a distinct thing in the way of innovation, or merely a circumstance attaching to an authorized thing and requiring to be regulated. Difficulties and differences of opinions may arise about details, even when sound judgment and good sense are brought to bear upon the interpretation and application of the principle.
Among those who are more traditional in their understanding of the Regulative Principle, there are differences about what specific things are elements, and what are circumstances. The Westminster Confession identifies five parts to the ordinary worship of God. These include prayer, the reading of Scripture, the preaching and hearing of the Word of God, the singing of psalms, and the administration and receiving of the sacraments. R. Scott Clark, appealing to the Confession, sees two elements, God’s Word, and prayer. He argues for the singing of inspired songs (not limited to psalms only), but does not view singing as a separate element of worship. Brian Schwertley produces a list of seven worship ordinances by distinguishing preaching from hearing and adding meeting on the Lord’s Day. Some charge others with confusing elements with one another.
There is no less disagreement about circumstances. Richard Baxter’s list of circumstances includes the use of musical instruments. Bushell, who defends exclusive psalmody, is criticized by others holding to the same for being “just a bit fuzzy regarding the categories of substance and circumstance.” Like Bushell, John L. Girardeau sees a distinction in circumstances. Noting that Chapter 1, Paragraph 6 in the Westminster Confession states that some (not all) circumstances are common to human actions and societies, he concludes that there are circumstances regarding the peculiar acts specific to Christian worship, and that these must be expressly commanded by God in Scripture. Thus, for him, the Regulative Principle applies not only to the elements of worship, but to the circumstances attending the elements of worship. The only circumstances given to the liberty of the church are those that are common to the very nature of human gatherings. All others must be explicitly prescribed in Scripture.
In an attempt to clear up some of the confusion about elements and circumstances, other categories have been employed. T. David Gordon and others speak of ‘forms.’ Forms have to do with the content of the elements. This category isn’t always defined in precisely the same way. There is also some disagreement about which forms are fixed and which forms are not, and whether forms should be urged or avoided.
John M. Frame mentions the category of ‘mode.’ According to Frame, mode applies to the elements of worship. It has to do with how the elements are to be carried out. While the elements are commanded, the mode is not.
Preaching is an element of worship, let us say; but Scripture does not specify how many sermons there must be in a service, whether there should be only one preacher or several, how loudly or softly one should preach, what text a preacher should use on a particular occasion, etc.
Gordon regards Frame’s category of ‘mode’ as merely another name for circumstances.
Finally, something must be said about another category, the adiaphora. These are “things indifferent,” things which are neither commanded nor prohibited by God. Some deny the concept, while others expand it “to include almost everything.” A problem emerges in connection with the adiaphora. Granting that the church cannot impose them in worship, on what basis can the church forbid them? Some who view the Regulative Principle as prohibiting whatever is not commanded attempt to deal with this difficulty by arbitrarily distinguishing worship ordinances from adiaphora.
This brief survey shows that the distinction between elements and circumstances, while very helpful, isn’t always clear or plain.
Did the Calvinists follow Calvin?
Some maintain that the Puritans and Westminster divines, in overreacting to Roman Catholicism and Anglicanism went too far. R. J. Gore observes,
Reformed theologians were often guilty of absolutizing principles of worship that had been determined in the reactionary setting of Reformation/post-Reformation European polemics. Too often plainness and simple uniformity were understood to be normative.
Seeing a disparity between Calvin and his heirs, Gore alleges that Calvin’s followers went farther than he would have; that the Puritans embraced a different principle of worship than did Calvin. He flatly asserts, “…there were substantial differences in practice between Calvin and the Puritans.”
Gore is not alone in his view. J. I. Packer asserts that the impression that the Puritan critique of Anglican public worship represented a reversion to the principles and practices of Calvin at Geneva is misleading. He later writes,
The idea that direct biblical warrant, in the form of precept or precedent, is required to sanction every substantive item included in the public worship of God was in fact a Puritan innovation.
Writing of the Puritans, Horton Davies similarly observes, “Biblical fidelity could all too easily degenerate into Bibliomania in the more extreme forms of text-hunting and strained interpretation.” Elsewhere Davies writes, “…neither [the Puritans nor the Anglicans] is in complete conformity with the Genevan tradition.” Hughes Oliphant Old likewise seems to leave the door open for the perception of a cleavage between Calvin and his followers.
Many disagree with the notion of a disparity between Calvin and his followers. T. David Gordon calls Gore’s thesis “unproven and unprovable.” Frank J. Smith and David C. Lachman charge Gore with completely misrepresenting Calvin. Rowland S. Ward disagrees with Packer’s characterization of the Regulative Principle as a Puritan innovation, and is “quite satisfied there is no fundamental difference between Calvin and the Westminster men on worship.” Edmund Clowney, while granting that there was amplification of the Regulative Principle, and “an unduly legalistic development of it in the Puritan Reformation,” likewise rejects Packer’s view. Similarly, William Young maintains that, “the Puritan principle of worship was no invention of the Puritans.”
Among those who are more moderate in their assessment is Douglas F. Kelly. He sees a continuity between the first Reformers (such as Calvin) and the Puritans. On the other hand, Kelly suggests that the Puritans went beyond Calvin when they asserted that “whatever is not commanded or warranted by Scripture is forbidden.” Christopher L. Bennett observes,
In some ways Puritan positions developed and became tighter: Dr. Ames in his preface to William Bradshaw’s English Puritanism (1605) says that the Puritans had become somewhat more rigid than the Reformers and even the earlier Puritans… because ‘miserable experience hath taught us many things which our fathers were ignorant of’.
In the same place he is quick to add that “the overall lines of the Regulative Principle, however, remain the same throughout the era.”
R. J. Gore, Stephen F. Winward, W. D. Maxwell, D. G. Hart, and others contend that Calvin believed in set forms of prayer, something that the Puritans would not have approved of. Rowland S. Ward and others regard this as a mistaken notion. Other ceremonies and practices which Calvin approved of, but the Puritans adamantly opposed, include the weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper, kneeling at the sacrament, the sponsorship of godparents in the baptism of infants, tolerance for vestments, the observance of holy days such as Christmas, Easter, Pentecost, and Ascension, and the rite of confirmation.
While the Puritans may have been somewhat more articulate with the Regulative Principle of worship, it must be remembered that Calvin was not the sole source of the Reformed tradition. If one wishes to set the Puritans against Calvin, one must set them against all of the Continental reformers. It is fair to say that the Puritans further refined and developed the theology of worship. But it is not fair to say that they and Calvin substantially differed regarding the prescription of worship. The “Calvin versus the Calvinists” paradigm is often employed by those who want to rescue (or wrest) Reformed worship from the hands of the Puritans. If one manages to drive a wedge between Calvin his followers, a shadow of doubt is cast over the Puritan understanding of the Regulative Principle of worship. Some even attempt to use Calvin to justify popular contemporary worship practices. The fact that there were differences between Calvin and the Puritans cannot be denied. Neither is it surprising. Care must be taken, however, in the conclusions one draws from this. It is probably best not to make too much of these differences.
The Question of Uniformity
The traditional understanding of the Regulative Principle is thought by some to guarantee a kind of uniformity of worship. In fact, however, it has not always done this. Those who have conscientiously held to the Regulative Principle have often and significantly differed from one another in its application. As Iain Murray has pointed out, “Merely to adhere to the regulative principle is not to resolve all questions. Nor is it an easy solution to all questions.” In the same place, he goes on to say that the overdoing of the Regulative Principle has been its undoing.
We have already noted several specific differences between the worship practices of Calvin and those of the English Puritans. Further, as Robert Godfrey points out,
Not all Reformed churches in Europe applied the regulative principle in the same way or were identical in their worship practices. For example, the Dutch Reformed kept a few hymns alongside their metrical psalms and continued to observe Christmas, Good Friday, Easter, Ascension, and Pentecost—not as obligatory holy days, but as important occasions in redemptive history. Scottish Presbyterians, on the other hand, sang only psalms and banished all elements of a liturgical calendar. When the Dutch reformed reintroduced musical instruments to worship in the 17th century, they did not reject the regulative principle, but rather applied it differently to the question of instruments.
The Westminster Assembly met from July 1, 1643 until February 22, 1649. Two of the documents produced by the Assembly during that period were The Westminster Confession of Faith and The Directory for Public Worship. The worship recommended in these documents is not uniform. R. J. Gore characterizes the Directory as a “compromise document,” deliberately broader than the Westminster in order to achieve wider acceptance. He maintains that “the practical application of the Puritan regulative principle of worship, even by the Westminster Assembly itself, was not consistent with the theoretical formulation of the principle.” Even if one disagrees with Gore’s observations, Henry Hammond, in his 1645 exposition of the Directory, explains that it intentionally avoided six basic characteristics, one of which was “uniformity in worship.”
Another area where there has been considerable lack of uniformity in connection with the Regulative Principle is the scope of its application. Does the Regulative Principle apply only to corporate worship, or does its application extend to matters outside of corporate worship? Historically, the Puritans restricted the application of the Regulative Principle to worship. Ironically, however, while rightly rejecting the Roman Catholic Church’s dichotomy between “sacred” and “secular,” a distinction rooted more in Greek philosophy than Scripture, they maintained a rigid distinction between worship and life. Was this a stroke of genius or a glaring inconsistency?
Today, those who are more conservative and traditional in their understanding of the Regulative Principle usually reject the idea that it should be applied outside of corporate worship. Many have a decided distaste for the idea that all of life is worship. For example, Frank J. Smith and Chris Coldwell write,
The notion that worship can be thought of as encompassing all of life (even with a distinction between worship in a broad sense and in a narrow sense) can lead to the perspective that the regulative principle applies to all of life. This is indeed the view taken by Professor Norman Shepherd, then a professor at Westminster Theological Seminary and minister in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. Referring to Deuteronomy 12:32 (“Whatever I command you, you shall be careful to do; you shall not add to it or take away from it”), Mr. Shepherd claims: “This principle applies to the whole scope of our obedience to God. We may properly speak of it as the regulative principle for human life.”
Professor Shepherd essentially undercut one of the key supports for the regulative principle. If there is not an essential difference between the principles which govern life and the principles which govern worship, then the regulative principle of worship, as conceived historically in the Reformed faith, becomes meaningless.
Others see all of life as worship. These include John M. Frame and R. J. Gore. They deny that the application of the Regulative Principle should be restricted to corporate worship only. They are also clear in affirming that the “all-of-life-is-worship” view doesn’t imply that there is no mandate for special meetings for corporate worship. Samuel E. Waldron sees the application of the Regulative Principle as encompassing the church’s life as a whole (i.e., corporate worship, government, and ministries) and not limited only to the church’s formal worship. Brian Schwertley limits the application of the Regulative Principle to the church’s formal worship but to formal worship at all levels–private, family, and public.
Scripturally speaking, there are elements of truth in each of these views. The authority of Scripture extends to all these spheres in some way. The question is how. Is there a special hermeneutic for worship and the church and another for everything else, or one and the same hermeneutic for everything including worship and the church?
In fact, careful, conscientious adherence to the Regulative Principle should not produce a bland uniformity in corporate worship. J. Ligon Duncan argues for the cultural transportability and flexibility of historic Protestant worship. He writes,
Reformed worship does not produce a cookie-cutter pattern. Following the Westminster Directory for Public Worship’s guidelines does not eliminate diversity or different cultural expressions in the forms and circumstances of corporate worship.
It is clear that those who have held to the Regulative Principle have not been uniform in the way they apply it. In fact, considerable debate and disagreement about its application and practice have arisen among its proponents. An interesting example of this follows.
Congregational Singing
Many questions, opinions, and viewpoints about congregational singing have arisen among those who have conscientiously held to the Regulative Principle. Is congregational singing a distinct element of corporate worship or is it simply a form of teaching? Should psalms only be sung, or are inspired songs in general acceptable? Beyond this, are hymns acceptable? If psalms or inspired songs only should be sung in corporate worship, which translation should be used? Are paraphrases or metrical renderings permissible? Should congregational singing be in parts or in unison only? Should congregational singing be accompanied by any musical instrumentation? If so, how many instruments and what kind?
Particular Baptists in 17th century England were divided over the issue of congregational singing. Many did not practice it at all. The omission of congregational singing may have originated during times of persecution when Baptists were forced to hold their meetings in secret to avoid detection by the authorities. What began as an early expedient may have developed into an inviolable tradition that continued after the Act of Toleration was enacted in 1689. There were other reasons why the Baptists omitted congregational singing: their aversion to the antiphonal singing of the psalms in the Roman and Anglican churches.”; uncertainty as to whether it was Scriptural to sing with conjoined voices in worship since it necessitated a ‘set form’ of praise; whether the Scripture was to be interpreted as allowing only a single person at a time to sing, when moved to do so by the influence of the Holy Spirit; “the danger which was felt to be incurred by the presence of unbelievers and profane persons who could take upon their lips the sacred words of Scripture.”; whether the versification of the Holy Scriptures was permissible.
Benjamin Keach, a signatory of the Second London Baptist Confession of Faith of 1689, a confession that clearly articulates the Regulative Principle, came to reject exclusive psalmody in the late 17th century. He was the first Baptist to introduce the singing of uninspired hymns into corporate worship. Keach first introduced to his Southwark congregation the singing of hymns at the conclusion of the Lord’s Supper between 1673 and 1675. By 1691 the church had voted to have a hymn sung after the service every Sunday. Twenty-two of Keach’s members left the church because they felt that this was an unscriptural innovation. For a number of years they attended the church pastored by Hanserd Knollys, another signatory of the Baptist Confession. Later, after the group formed another church, they wrote against congregational singing in their articles of faith, calling it a gross error, equal to national forms of set prayer. William Kiffin, another signatory of the Baptist Confession, shared this conviction. Bitter disagreement continued in subsequent years, and numerous books were written by highly respected ministers on both sides of the issue. The controversy didn’t die down until the early 19th century.
Widely divergent views of congregational singing continue to this day even among conservative advocates of the Regulative Principle.
The Synagogue
The synagogue has occasioned some interesting discussion in connection with the Regulative Principle of worship. R. J. Gore and others attempt to demonstrate the Regulative Principle to be erroneous on the basis of Jesus’ participation in the worship of the synagogue, a purely human institution. In reply to this argument, it must be acknowledged that without any doubt the participation of Jesus and the apostles validates the legitimacy of the synagogue worship. The origins of the synagogue, however, cannot be determined with any certainty. Further, as has already been mentioned, the absence of any recorded directives for the synagogue worship doesn’t mean that no divine directives were ever given.
It is generally recognized that the synagogue was the context in which New Covenant worship developed, and shaped apostolic and early Christian worship. The early church took up the format of the synagogue worship. Andrew E. Hill argues that the synagogue structure and liturgy were largely duplicated by the church. Similarly, Steven M. Schlissel asserts that the organizational model for the worshiping communities called churches was the synagogue. “…[W]hen we look for the organizational and liturgical antecedents of church, we find them in the synagogue.” The elements of the synagogue worship included the reading of the Word of God, prayer, and the singing of psalms. Two important observations follow from this: first, the early church didn’t derive its worship practices directly from Scripture alone; second, the early church’s model for worship practices was the synagogue, not the Temple.
Finally, some who are more traditional in their understanding of the Regulative Principle might argue that since the synagogue wasn’t the place of God’s special presence, its meetings weren’t regulated. The Regulative Principle applies to the Tabernacle, Temple, and the church since they are places of God’s special presence. As Dr. Waldron acknowledges, however, the Regulative Principle doesn’t stand or fall on this consideration alone. Further, we have already seen that public worship of all kinds is regulated by divine revelation even when there is no record of that revelation in Scripture.
The Reformed Confessions and Catechisms
The Reformed Confessions and Catechisms are unanimous in their assertion of the Regulative Principle of worship. R. Scott Clark observes,
Contrary to the impression left by some contemporary discussion, the RPW is not the product of the fevered imaginations of the British Reformed churches. It was the universal confession of all the Reformed churches.
Objecting to the tendency to view Calvin as the sole source of the Regulative Principle, Clark elsewhere asserts,
This perception is unwarranted. In fact, streams flowing from across Europe fed the Reformed confession and practice of worship. Gradually, beginning with Zwingli, Oecolampdius, Bucer, and the Swiss-German Reformers and continuing with Calvin, the French Reformed, the German Reformed, the Dutch Reformed, and culminating with English and Scottish Presbyterianism and Puritanism, the reformed churches came to a remarkable consensus of the principle by which worship was to be guided, on the question to be asked, and on the understanding of that principle.
Notwithstanding the overall agreement of the confessions and catechisms as to the essence and definition of the Regulative Principle, they are not uniform in the scope of its application. Does it apply to formal worship only or to other matters also? The relevant chapters in the confessions concerning Christian liberty highlight these differences. The chart below (Table 1) compares the differences among the two readings of the Westminster Confession, the Savoy Declaration, and the 1689 Baptist Confession in the chapter(s) dealing with Christian liberty.
The accepted reading of the Westminster Confession distinguishes the liberty that Christians have generally in life from that which they have in matters of faith and worship. In life they are free from the doctrines and commandments of men that are contrary to the Word of God. In matters of faith and worship, however, they enjoy an additional liberty. In these matters they are also free from the doctrines and commandments of men that are beside the Word of God.
The Savoy Declaration and the Baptist Confession of 1689 change the wording. Instead of ‘beside it’ they read ‘not contained in it.’ Leaving aside for the moment the question of whether these expressions are strictly equivalent, the Savoy Declaration and Baptist Confession address the liberty of Christians in life in general. In all things, including matters of faith and worship, Christians are free from the doctrines and commandments of men that are contrary to the Word or not contained in it.
In the accepted reading of the Westminster Confession, a clear line of distinction is drawn between the liberty of Christians in faith and worship, and the liberty of Christians in other things. The Savoy Declaration and the Baptist Confession make no such distinction. In other words, in the Westminster Confession Scripture is applied to faith and worship differently from the way it is applied to life. In the Savoy Declaration and the Baptist Confession Scripture is applied in the same way to both worship and life. The question is, does the Scripture itself compel us to make any distinctions in the way it is applied to worship on the one hand, and life on the other? To put the question differently, is there one hermeneutic for worship and another for life? Or does the same hermeneutic apply to both? The writers of the Westminster here assert the former. The writers of the Savoy Declaration and the Baptist Confession here assert the latter.
Finally, in 1:6, the Baptist Confession replaces the phrase ‘by good and necessary consequence may be deduced’ with ‘necessarily contained.’ The latter expression seems to allow less “wiggle room” than the former. Does this unwittingly tend to shut Baptists up to a more rigid, narrower understanding and application of the Regulative Principle?
Summary and Conclusion
The Regulative Principle of worship was formulated during and subsequent to the Protestant Reformation with unprecedented precision in an effort to exclude Roman Catholic idolatry and to protect the liberty of conscience against the enforcement of Anglican Church orders. It is important to recognize the historical setting in which the Regulative Principle of worship developed. Doing so will help dampen the pendulum swing in the opposite direction toward adding to the Word of God by prohibition.
While historically there has been a substantial consensus in the Reformed community that Scripture alone ought to determine what is normative for the worship of the church, by no means has there been agreement either about the principle by which this should be done or the particulars of its application. Definitions of the Regulative Principle have not been uniform. There has been a considerable amount of discussion about which items of corporate worship are subject to the Regulative Principle and which ones are not. The confessions do not agree about the scope of the principle’s application. These differences may stem in part from the fact that the format of the church’s worship was inherited from an institution for which no explicit directives are recorded in Scripture. Not surprisingly, Reformed worship has not been uniform.
After a century or more of decline and neglect, Reformed theology began to be rediscovered in the 1930s and 1940s. Along with it came a renewed interest in Reformed worship. As the printing press imparted momentum to the Reformation, so the advent and increasing use of personal computers and the internet has occasioned a corresponding increase in discussion and debate about the Regulative Principle of worship. Though at many points the controversy has been unpleasant and disagreements sharp, it may yet prove to be a kind of “Third Reformation,” the crucible hopefully from which a more purified worship will emerge.
Jim Domm
Pastor of Englewood Baptist Church
M.Div. Student of Reformed Baptist Seminary
Posted by deangonzales on August 15, 2008
Father Gregory Ned Blevins and I have been engaged in a friendly exchange. Father Gregory, a priest in an Independent Orthodox-Catholic Church, thinks that converting from Protestant/Evangelical communions to Roman Catholic/Orthodox communions is a good thing. I, being a former Roman Catholic and now an evangelical Protestant, think such conversions are bad. Our initial exchanges took place on Todd Wood’s blog, Heart Issues for LDS, under a post entitled, “Did God create the U.S. to bring about the LDS gospel?” I decided to shift the debate to my blog (RBS Tabletalk) since the subject matter only remotely relates to the subject of Todd’s blog on Mormonism. The reader should peruse the post below (i.e., Part I), then read the following exchange. His response to my first post does not appear in the form of carefully structured argument, so I wasn’t sure how I should structure my own rebuttal. I finally decided to cite some of the relevant paragraphs in his post and follow with my replies.
Dear Father Gregory,
I want to begin by expressing my appreciation for the irenic spirit you’ve demonstrated thus far in our interchange. I hope you sense the same disposition in my replies to you. In response to our initial exchange posted below, you begin by recounting your personal experience:
Growing up in NE Montana as an Evangelical Christian (Christian and Missionary Alliance, Church of the Nazarene, and Assemblies of God, with a bit of exposure to Baptist fundamentalism a’la Bob Jones and John R. Rice – long story), where such Christians are in a distinct minority (or at least were: thanks to charismatic renewal and other factors, that is the less the case now), I always assumed that there was no such thing as a nominal Evangelical/Baptist/Fundamentalist. Boy, was I shocked when I came South! As you know, the region is crawling with cultural Baptists and other nominal “Evangelicals”. Apparently there has been a widespread failure to “produce people who are passionate for God and for holiness.”
I agree that nominalism may be present in any denomination or local congregation—even among churches that may otherwise preach true doctrine and call for heart religion (note that Christ and the apostles had to address this problem). This only reinforces what I said earlier, namely, “determining the veracity of one’s position on the basis of a religious “experience” is subject to varying interpretations.” So your observation of “nominalism” among professing evangelicals will probably not convince me of the falsehood of evangelical faith anymore than my observations of nominalism among Catholics and Orthodox adherents will convince you of the falsehood of those religions. I think you basically concur. In fact, you write,
I agree that conversions are not, in and of themselves, sufficient to establish truth claims; that was not my point. However, contrast most Roman Catholics who become Evangelical with Evangelicals who become RC or Orthodox: in the former case, the RC’s who convert were largely nominal (the same has been noted with RC’s who become LDS). In the latter case, however, the opposite is often true, and it is certainly true of the people I mentioned; they were serious, committed, devout, thoughtful, well-educated in their faith. Further, none of these people arrived at their present positions without a long struggle with their previous understanding of Scripture, largely coming out of the Reformation. This was especially true of Fr. Gillquist and company and the others who had not been Anglicans. As I said, this is not proof of any truth claims, but it does point in a certain direction.
Your argument seems to run as follows:
Major premise: RC or Orthodox adherents that convert to evangelical communions were, in most cases, merely nominal in their commitment.
Minor premise: Evangelicals who convert to RC or Orthodox communions were devout, well-educated, and thoughtful.
Conclusion: Conversions from RC or Orthodox communions to evangelical communions are less likely to reflect carefully thought out decisions and may reveal that they really didn’t understand the religion from which they converted. On the other hand, conversions from evangelical communions to RC or Orthodoxy are more likely the result of carefully thought out decisions made by truly devout (as opposed to nominal) persons. Therefore, conversions from evangelical communions to RC or Orthodox communions are more likely to be genuine conversions, whereas conversions from RC or Orthodox communions to evangelical communions probably reflect a degree of naiveté, a lack of religious commitment to God, and therefore, are suspect.
I might counter with the following observations: first, converting from a condition of nominalism to a state of devotion may be a good indication of a true conversion (Isaiah 29:13; Jeremiah 4:4; Matthew 5:20; 7:21-27; John 3:3-5; 2 Timothy 3:5). Hence, the fact that the converts to Protestant/Evangelical communions were previously nominal adherents to their RC/Orthodox communions does not discount the genuineness of their conversion but may instead support it. Second, even if one grants that converts from evangelical communions to RC or Orthodox communions were better educated than their counterparts, it does not follow that their “conversions” are more likely to be genuine or more virtuous. According to Scripture, the true gospel often does not appeal to the well educated. Hence, God does not call many wise, but he calls the foolish and the babes (Matthew 11:26; 18:3; Luke 10:21; 1 Corinthians 1:26-27). Third, the very premise that converts from evangelicalism to RC/Orthodox communions are usually more educated, thoughtful, and devout is questionable. Many well-educated and seemingly devout priests and nuns have converted to evangelicalism. Indeed, polemical literature against the RC and Orthodox communions often comes from former priests. I’d be glad to provide you with some names if you’d like. In conclusion, I fail to see how your observations (which themselves are questionable) “point in a certain direction.”
You go on to write,
Having said that, I think it is important to acknowledge that I completely agree with Fr. Peter Gillquist’s statement: “All of Orthodoxy is found in the Bible, but much of it in passages we didn’t underline when we were Evangelicals.”
Okay, I will acknowledge that you affirm Father Gillquist’s statement. But this, I’m sure you agree, doesn’t count as an argument—its just his and your opinion. I might say something similar in reverse: “All of the evangelical faith is found in the Bible, but much of it in passages that we didn’t underline [or hear proclaimed from our priests] when we were Roman Catholic or Orthodox adherents.” Once again, we need to avoid using experiences or statements of opinion in assessing the veracity of our truth claims. God’s word must be the ultimate arbiter.
You do begin to address one of my doctrinal positions when you object to my view of the self-authentication and ultimate authority of Scripture. In your mind,
There is a problem here. At every Mass, every Divine Liturgy, every Qurbana, there are at least two readings of Scripture, including one from the Gospels, yet you say that you (or those about whom you speak) never heard the Scriptures “faithfully TAUGHT” and the “gospel clearly proclaimed” outside of Protestant Evangelicalism. (Of course, as an aside, this begs the question as to whether the gospel of the NT is the same as the gospel of Evangelical Protestantism: is the gospel first and foremost about acquittal or about regeneration?) So even in your current context, the Bible does not simply speak for itself: “some teaching required”. Of course, Scripture itself affirms this. As the Ethiopian eunuch said, “How can I [understand what I am reading] unless some one guides me?” since “no prophecy of Scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation”.
Yes, this does “beg the question.” And it is precisely this question we need to reckon with. According to Scripture (and my confession) the gospel is multifaceted and may be viewed more narrowly (i.e., in terms of justification or acquittal) or more broadly (election, regeneration, conversion, justification, adoption, sanctification, and glorification). I’m willing to discuss and debate any one of these topics as presented in my confession of faith and, more importantly, as presented in Scripture. Moreover, you do not appear to understand the meaning of “self-authentication.” This nomenclature, when applied to Holy Scripture, refers to an inherent quality and capacity of divine revelation to validate itself to the conscience of beings created in his image. God has so constituted human beings, as the imago Dei, that when He speaks, whether through general revelation or special revelation, we recognize His voice. Hence, God can hold men accountable for their failure to respond appropriately to general revelation (Romans 1:18ff.) and special revelation (Matthew 10:5-15; 11:20-24; Luke 16:19-21). In other words, the authenticity of divine revelation is self-validating, and, therefore, the authority of Scripture is intrinsic to its very nature as divine revelation. This has nothing to do with the question of whether the church has the right and responsibility to explain and apply the Scriptures. We, along with RC and Orthodox communions, acknowledge that Christ has given gifts to the church who are to function in the capacity of pastor-teachers (Eph. 4:11). But the authority of their teaching is derivative from Scripture and only extends as far as it stands in accordance with the prophetic and apostolic word (Ephesians 2:20; 2 Peter 3:2).
Then you appear to offer an indirect argument against my Protestant/Evangelical faith:
But there is another problem: why THIS teaching (in your case, that of Reformed Baptists) over that of, say, Pentecostals or Holiness people, or even that of confessional Presbyterians, or confessional Lutherans, or confessional Anglicans, or of the myriads of others who claim to derive their faith solely from the words of Scripture? Before the Reformation, divisions in the Church were largely based upon one or two disputed points and largely happened along political and geographical fracture lines; this is not the case afterward; all these different groups, on the basis of “sola Scriptura”, took their Bibles in hand and went off in a different direction, in many cases anathematizing all the others.
On the surface, this appears to be a question, viz, why should I view the doctrinal standards of my Reformed Baptist communion as superior or more faithful to Scripture than other Protestant and evangelical traditions? I suspect, however, that this is actually a rhetorical question used as an argument—ad hominem at that! That is, the fact that there are so many factions within the Protestant/Evangelical faith disqualifies it as the true expression of the apostolic faith set forth in Scripture. My responses are as follows: first, even if I believed that the Reformed Baptist branch of the Protestant/Evangelical tradition alone (as opposed to all others) preserved the true teaching of Scripture, that fact would not itself be an argument against my position. You would need to show what parts of my tradition are inconsistent with Scripture.
Second, in reality, I don’t believe that my denomination or communion holds a corner on the truth. I enjoy communion with Protestant and Evangelical churches outside my own Reformed Baptist tradition. Moreover, I seek to learn from them as eagerly as I might desire them to learn from me. Only when such communions adhere to and promote error of such a nature that it undermines the heart of the gospel do I separate myself from such teachers or congregations in keeping with the apostolic injunctions to separate from false teachers and reject false teaching (Romans 16:17-18; 2 Corinthians 6:14-17; 1 Timothy 6:3-5; Titus 3:10).
Third, it seems to me that you intend the statement, “all these different groups [i.e., Protestant/Evangelical], on the basis of ‘sola Scriptura,’ took their Bibles in hand and went off in a different direction, in many cases anathematizing all the others,” as an example of something bad and negative. Or course, we both know that the RC and Orthodox communions have issued plenty of their own anathemas. According to Scripture, curses and imprecations are not intrinsically wrong (Matthew 23; Galatians 1:8-9; 1 Corinthians 16:22). They are wrong, however, when directed towards those who do not merit such. Have Protestant churches ever been guilty of pronouncing anathemas upon individuals or communions when such anathemas were unwarranted? Neither my ecclesiology nor my understanding of Scripture constrains me to answer negatively. There are no pure Christians or churches this side of glory. Would you be willing to admit that? Would you concede that Roman pontiffs or bishops have ever been guilty of wrongly separating from and falsely anathematizing individuals or communions without biblical warrant? (See Benzion Netanyahu’s The Origins of the Inquisition in Fifteenth Century Spain [New York: Random House, 1995]) What about Orthodox priests? If so, then this entire ad hominem argument becomes invalid. As I’ve tried to say already, we won’t get very far in our discussion if we simply resort to using such argumentation to validate our truth claims.
Fourth, the same kind of theological diversity and fragmentation can be found in the very denominations or communions that you claim to be authentic. My Roman Catholic priest, for example, denied the inspiration of Holy Scripture. He believed that the Bible consisted of human writings that are fallible (a position analogous to that of liberal Protestantism). I’m certain that there are many Roman Catholic priests who would disagree with him and who still hold to the inspiration of Scripture. But that fact just serves to prove my point. There is not complete homogeneity in the Roman Catholic Church. I also found it interesting to read an article about the denomination of which you are part. Apparently, the Antiochian Catholic Church in America is considered to be a faction by other Catholic and Orthodox leaders (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antiochian_Catholic_Church_in_America). Once again, we won’t get very far in the debate using ad hominem arguments.
I was glad when you went on to concede, “I am willing to discuss our differences on the basis of the text of Scripture by itself.” But what you give with the right hand you appear to take back with the left hand when you continue,
I reject “sola Scriptura”, the first and foremost reason being that Scripture’s own words point beyond themselves to a) the Church, which, according to the Bible, is the “pillar and ground of the truth” and “the fullness of [Christ] who fills all-in-all” and b) within the Church, to the authority of the Apostles (“whatever you bind and loose,” “whoever hears you, hears me”, authority which is seen in action in Acts 15) and, by extension, to their successors as well as to “the traditions which you were taught by [Paul, his companions, andor the other apostles], either by word of mouth or by letter”. Therefore, one cannot, as you do, draw an absolute line between the contents of Scripture and the traditionsoral teachings out of which they emerged, not only in terms of the earliest Church, but also, with regard to those who followed the Apostles (or who, in some cases, such as Clement of Rome and the author of the Didache, wrote prior to the death of the last Apostle). Therefore, while, as you point out, the Book of Revelation indicates the possibility that a local Church might become apostate (but not become a “synagogue of Satan”: the text does not connect these two concepts, even if the RB confession you pointed me to does), Christ’s words in Scripture rule out the possibility that the Church, visible and historical, will ever completely disappear from the face of the earth. Therefore, while Rome may have become apostate (I don’t think it has, but there are Orthodox who do), there must be a visible, historical Church on earth today which is organizationally continuous with the Church of the Apostles and, in fact, is itself the Church of the Apostles. (Part of the problem here is the redefinition of terms: the concept of an invisible “ekklesia” or “assembly” is an oxymoron. This is true a priori and is abundantly verified by the early fathers of the Church.) A group of Baptists realized this, and tried to trace the historical continuity of their church back through a succession of heretical and schismatic communities allegedly going back to the Apostles. Unfortunately for them, history does not support their assertions. There is no connection, historical or theological, between, for example, the Donatists of Augustine’s time and the Albigensians of a later period, and besides, none of these groups bear any real resemblance to post-Reformation Baptists. But I digress, and I’m sure you don’t buy into that anyway, Bob. My point is that even certain Baptists have come to realize that the “Church” in the NT is a visible, historical entity.
You’ve said a lot in this paragraph. I’ll try to address the main points. First, I agree that the Bible derives its authority from Christ, the great and final Prophet par excellence. I, as you might expect, do not agree with your interpretation of 1 Timothy 3:15. The church has been commissioned with the stewardship of faithful proclaiming and defending the truth of the gospel once delivered to the saints. In that sense, it is the “pillar and support of the truth.” But the veracity and authority of Scripture does not originate or ultimately depend upon the church’s imprimatur. As the passages I’ve already cited indicate divine revelation is self-authenticating. Therefore, the church’s role in identifying the parameters of the canon does not confer the Scripture’s divine authority but only acknowledges it. In fact, the teaching magistrate of the church has been known to err and thereby invalidate the authority of Scripture (Matthew 15:3-6; Mark 7:8-13; 1 Peter 1:18).
Second, I have not drawn a line between oral and written apostolic tradition. Paul’s oral teaching was just as authoritative as his written epistles (2 Thessalonians 2:15). And according to Peter, the apostolic teaching ranks in authority with the OT prophets (2 Peter 3:2). I do, however, draw a line between the inspired writers of Scripture and the non-inspired bishops who followed the Apostles. And I think my position is reflected in the writings of an Early Church Father (ECF) whom I greatly esteem. Augustine of Hippo affirmed of the infallibility and supreme authority of Scripture as well as his limited and fallible understanding and that of other ECF commentators:
Freely do I admit to you, my friend, that I have learned to ascribe to those Books which are of Canonical rank, and only to them, such reverence and honor, that I firmly believe that no single error due to the author is found in any one of them. And when I am confronted in these Books with anything that seems to be at variance with truth, I do not hesitate to put it down either to the use of an incorrect text, or to THE FAILURE OF A COMMENTATOR RIGHTLY TO EXPLAIN THE WORDS, or to MY OWN MISTAKEN UNDERSTANDING of the passage [emphasis added]” (Letters 82.1.3).
Accordingly, I do think we may and should draw a line between Paul and the ECFs. This does not mean that I disregard their teaching. Indeed, I believe I am affirming the same modesty they themselves would express in contrasting their teaching with that of Jesus and the apostles.
Third, I do affirm, “Christ’s words in Scripture rule out the possibility that the Church, visible and historical, will ever completely disappear from the face of the earth.” I would cite passage like Matthew 16:18 and 28:18-20. You go on to state, “Therefore, while Rome may have become apostate (I don’t think it has, but there are Orthodox who do), there must be a visible, historical Church on earth today which is organizationally continuous with the Church of the Apostles and, in fact, is itself the Church of the Apostles.” I find it interesting that you concede the possibility that the Church of Rome may have become apostate. Allowing for this possibility is precisely what I’ve argued for. That allows us to concede that a remnant of true believers and churches may have broken off from Rome to form that which is “organizationally continuous with the Church of the Apostles and, in fact, is itself the Church of the Apostles.” In my opinion, that organization/organism is evangelical Protestantism. Note, I did not say, Reformed Baptist. My ecclesiology does not demand a pure church, only a true church (Revelation 2 & 3). This addresses your following question:
So where is this Church, continuous with that of the Apostles? There are four communions (each with some off-shoots which have maintained the essential characteristics of their various traditions) which can indubitably trace their existence back to the time of the Apostles. They are the Assyrian Church of the East, the Oriental Orthodox Communion, the Byzantine Orthodox Communion, and the Roman Catholic Church. In light of the Bible, one of these, or all of them together, must constitute the NT Church.
I am not certain why you exclude the churches of the Protestant Reformation from this equation. After all, they can trace their organizational continuity through the western Church to the early church. But let’s grant, for the sake of argument, that Protestant/Evangelical churches are precluded from the historical/organizational tree of ecclesiastical history. According to NT precedent, God may cut off natural branches (those with historical, organizational, and even ethic continuity) from the tree of His redemptive community and graft in wild branches (those without historical, organizational, and ethic continuity) (compare Romans 11:16-24). The bottom line is this: “To all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the [legal] right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God” (John 1:12-13). And where such disciples gather to continue “steadfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in prayers” (Acts 2:42), there you have a true church.
So here is one place, Bob, in this matter of ecclesiology, that you have abandoned Scripture by either ignoring, explaining away, redefining terms, or some combination of all these. And it is here that our fundamental disagreement exists. In the rest of it, concerning, for example, the role and nature of the sacraments, the extent of the canon of the OT (How DID y’all come to truncate the canon? It certainly wasn’t on the basis of anything the Bible itself says about the canon, since the Bible does not define itself, does not delineate its limits in any way), the possibility of the loss of salvation he notion that regeneration necessarily entails final salvation, etc., the same dynamic is in play. Consider the following, for example:
“Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God.”
“Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you shall not have life within you.”
“Whatsoever you bind on earth is bound in heaven; whatsoever you loose on earth is loosed in heaven.”
“Receive the Holy Spirit. If you remit the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”
“Baptism now saves you…”
Once again, you’ve said a lot, and I’ll have to try to isolate the main points of your argument. First of all, you think my ecclesiology is unscriptural because there must be, in your mind, an unbroken organizational continuity between the modern church and the apostolic church. I do believe that there always have been true congregations of Christ upon the earth. Considered collectively, these local congregations may be termed the one true apostolic church. But I’ve also attempted to demonstrate from Scripture that mere historical-organizational continuity does not guarantee the preservation of God’s true church (Matthew 3:9-10; John 1:12-13; Romans 11:21). Hence, your argument is not persuasive. More persuasive is the argument that identifies a true church as an entity that’s organized in accordance with the directives of Christ and his apostles in the NT and that preaches the same gospel preached by Christ and his apostles. In the context of such ecclesiastical organizations I am ready to entrust the welfare of my soul and those of my family.
Secondly, you allude to the Protestant/Evangelical’s truncation of the OT canon. Actually, you’ll need to include Jewish tradition as embodied in the Tanakh, which also excludes the apocryphal literature. I’m inclined to reject apocryphal books for the following reasons: First, the Jews have not recognized the Apocryphal books as part of the Old Covenant canon. It is well known that the Jewish historian Josephus limits the OT canonical writings to those composed during or before the reign of Artaxerxes. This would exclude the Apocryphal books. Josephus’ testimony is confirmed by later Jewish rabbis, including Philo of Alexandria. Even the late second century B.C. apocryphal book of 1 Maccabees acknowledges the prior disappearance of prophecy among the Jews. For example, in 9:27 of that book, we read, “A terrible oppression began in Israel; there had been nothing like it since the disappearance of prophecy among them” (Jerusalem Bible). The implication of that statement is that the writer of Maccabees does not consider his own work to be prophetic. Second, it’s very significant that neither Jesus nor the Apostles ever faulted the Jews for “subtracting” books from the canon. Jesus did not like the way the Jews handled the Scriptures. He condemned them for not knowing the Scriptures (Matthew 22:29), for invalidating the Scripture with their own tradition (Matthew 15:3-6; Mark 7:6-13), and for refusing to submit to the Scripture (John 5:45-47; 8:40ff). However, Jesus never condemned the Jewish assessment of the OT canon. He never accused them of subtracting from the Scripture by failing to include the Apocrypha. Furthermore, we find Jesus and the disciples constantly citing and alluding to nearly every book of the traditional OT canon. But there is no evidence that Jesus or the Apostles ever regarded any of the apocryphal books as canonical (though Peter and Jude appear to allude to pseudepigraphal literature). Thus the lack of Jesus criticizing the Jewish canon together with the absence of His endorsement of the apocryphal books weighs against the inclusion of the Apocrypha in the canon. Third, while the Christian church as a whole has agreed upon the Jewish OT canon and the Greek NT canon, it has not unequivocally recognized the canonicity of the Apocrypha. It is true that some of the early church fathers quoted the Apocrypha in a manner similar to their quoting of Scripture. But it is not until Augustine that we find a clear statement in favor of its canonicity. Yet even Augustine’s high view of the Apocrypha is later contradicted when he accords it a kind of secondary-canonical status. The Western Catholic Church and eventually the Eastern Orthodox Church followed Augustine in according the Apocrypha a kind of “deutero-canonical” status. However, the 16th century Protestant Reformers rejected this distinction between a secondary and primary canon, and as a result, they refused to accord the Apocryphal books canonical status. Thus the testimony of the church as a whole is unanimous in favor of the Jewish canon but divided over the Apocrypha books. To use the words of one Protestant writer, “The history of the Apocrypha is the history of doubts, division and rejection.” For this reason, we do better to follow the example of the Jews, the Apostles, and Jesus Himself.
Finally, you cite several passages of Scripture that are apparently key texts for your doctrinal tradition and that are presumably ignored, sidestepped, or twisted by those in my doctrinal tradition. I don’t have time to deal extensively with all the passages. Since I think you intend them all to make one basic point, viz, Protestant/Evangelicals don’t take Scripture literally (or if we do, we’re selective), I’ll just focus on one text in my response. How about Peter’s assertion, “Baptism now saves you” (1 Peter 3:21)? What does a Protestant/Evangelical who rejects the notion of baptismal regeneration do with a text like that? Seems like you’ve trapped us on the horns of a dilemma.
Maybe not. To begin with, I think you and I are educated enough to know that the reader of Scripture cannot simply apply the interpretive canon of “literal” or “prima facie” meaning to every text of Scripture. Meaning is always determined by context—immediate and canonical. For example, when Paul asserts that women “will be saved through childbearing” (1 Timothy 2:16), I hope you don’t conclude that the bearing of children is an absolute precondition for regeneration or the necessary instrument of justification. A superficial reading of the text might lead to such a conclusion. But I suspect that both you and I would give that text a more nuanced interpretation.
I approach 1 Peter 3:21 in the same way—interpreting it in such a way so as to arrive at a conclusion harmonious with the rest of Scripture. First, there are examples of individuals who were converted and assured of eternal life apart from baptism. The believing thief on the cross was promised Paradise (Luke 23:43) though he had no opportunity to receive the sacrament of baptism. (I hope you don’t adopt the silly notion that he was baptized with the water that spurted from Jesus’ side.) The publican confessed his sin, looked to God for mercy, and went home justified without the sacrament of baptism (Luke 18:9-14). Second, there are far more passages that connect a heart response of faith and repentance to conversion (and its attendant blessings) than those that include baptism (Matthew 9:23-24; Mark 1:15; Luke 8:12; John 1:12; 3:16; 6:29; 20:31; Acts 13:38-39; 20:21; pet Romans 1:17; 3:22; 4:11, 24; 10:9-10, 13; Galatians 3:22; 1 Timothy 1:16; 4:10; Hebrews 11:6; 1 Peter 2:7; 1 John 3:23; 5:13). The overall impression from the teaching of Jesus and the apostles is that turning from sin (repentance) and turning to God (faith) are the essential marks of a regenerate heart. Baptism, on the other hand, like circumcision, is a sign or sacrament whose efficacy is not intrinsic but dependent upon the reality of faith in the recipient. As the very passage you cite indicates, the efficacy of baptism is not intrinsic to the physical properties of the water itself. Nor is its efficacy linked to the agent who administers it (i.e., the bishop or ‘priest’). Instead, its efficacy is tied to “the pledge of a good conscience to God,” i.e., the recipient’s response of faith. So I agree with Edmond Hiebert when he writes,
The material waters of Christian baptism are not the outward instrument that produces an inner spiritual regeneration; baptism is an act of obedience that bears witness to the inner union by faith with Christ the Savior. Peter, like Paul, assumed that in true Christian baptism, the outward sign and inner reality are kept together; the rite without the inner reality is useless; just as the dollar sign on a check is valueless apart from the monetary reality in the bank (1 Peter [Chicago: Moody Press, 1992], 240).
Interestingly, Peter seems to draw a parallel between the waters of baptism and the waters of the flood. Technically, the waters of the flood served to judge human sin. But out of God’s death-curse arose the blessing of salvation (i.e., the preservation of Noah and family via the Ark). Similarly, like the waters of the flood, the waters of baptism point to the death and resurrection of Christ (Romans 6:4; Colossians 2:12), that is, they symbolize the fact that salvific blessing (life) arises from judgment (death). So I interpret Peter’s statement as follows, “[The reality symbolized by] Baptism, which corresponds to [the flood waters], now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body [that would be to attach the saving efficacy to the symbol itself] but as the pledge to God of a good conscience [i.e., an outward indication of an inward heart disposition] through the resurrection of Jesus Christ [which, along with his atoning death is the ultimate ground of our hope].
Analogous to this understanding of baptism is the relationship of animal sacrifices to the grace of forgiveness. According to the author of Hebrews, these animal sacrifices were intrinsically inadequate to atone for sin (Hebrews 9:12ff.; 10:4). Nevertheless, a cursory reading of the OT passages referring to the animal sacrifices gives a prima facie impression that they were intrinsically efficacious (see Leviticus 4:1ff.). How can these seemingly contradictory strands of teaching be harmonized? The solution, I believe, is to distinguish between the sign or symbol and the reality to which it points. The animal sacrifices were but shadows that pointed to a greater reality. Likewise, water baptism is not the sine qua non of regeneration or the instrument of justification. It serves, rather, as a sign and pointer to a greater reality. The tendency to exalt the sign of baptism to the status to which it’s been accorded in the RC/Orthodox communions is analogous to the grave error made by the Jews who accorded the mere circumcision of the flesh a kind of saving efficacy that belonged rather to the circumcision of the heart (Deuteronomy 10:16; 30:16; Jeremiah 4:4; Romans 4:11; 1 Corinthians 7:19; Galatians 5:6; Philippians 3:1-3).
Finally, you write,
I could go on (and on), but the point is obvious: while claiming “sola Scriptura,” that Scripture is “self-authenticating”, etc., you simply cannot cope with these passages on their face; you must resort to redefinition or to explaining them away (and I’m pretty sure you would rather simply ignore them). So let me ask you: if Christ in John 6 wasn’t speaking of the Eucharist, why did He speak in terms that anyone impartial or objective and familiar with Christianity, then or now, would immediately understand in light of what he said and did at the Last Supper? Is he trying to fool us? I’m sure you don’t believe that, but in your haste to deny the Real Presence (because, like Calvin, you can’t cope with the worship of the consecrated bread and wine which logically follows? The mention of “idolatry” in this regard in the RB confession would seem to point in that direction.), you must resort to tactics that you would not use in interpreting other portions of Scripture, or indeed in handling any other document. Because of that, your whole approach, the whole approach of classical Protestantism in general, is self-contradictory; however, instead of admitting this, that Scripture is not entirely self-interpreting, was never meant to be, you interpret it, not in terms of the God-given Tradition in which it is rightly embedded, and from which it cannot be harmlessly separated, but through the lens of what really are “traditions of men” which are virtually always based upon turning one or two passages into the key for understanding the whole. Luther did it with “the just shall live by faith” and Calvin, with Ephesians 1:4-5. No, the key to Scripture is not a passage of Scripture. It is a person, the Lord Jesus Christ himself, and His mystical body and bride, the Church, historical, visible, and continuous, united to Him by the Holy Spirit. “You search the Scripture, because you think that in them you have eternal life: and it is they that bear witness to me.”
In response to your assertions above, I’ll concede, as I’ve done earlier, that I don’t always interpret every passage literally. If I did, I would have to admit that the Scriptures were self-contradictory. Like any other biblical theologian, I try to interpret any one verse of Scripture consist with the overall theology and teaching of the Bible (the analogy of faith). That doesn’t guarantee that every one of my interpretations is correct, any more than such an approach guarantees that every one of the interpretations of the ECF was correct. I don’t believe my tradition or your tradition is infallible. Like Augustine, I draw a line between my tradition and the teaching of the apostles.
You ask, “If Christ in John 6 wasn’t speaking of the Eucharist, why did He speak in terms that anyone impartial or objective and familiar with Christianity, then or now, would immediately understand in light of what he said and did at the Last Supper? Is he trying to fool us? I’m sure you don’t believe that, but in your haste to deny the Real Presence (because, like Calvin, you can’t cope with the worship of the consecrated bread and wine which logically follows?” First, I believe the original readers of John’s Gospel may have seen an allusion to the Lord’s Supper, but I do not see how the text constrains me to conclude that Jesus’ disciples (to whom he was speaking) would have drawn that conclusion. Jesus nowhere explicitly ties his statements to the Eucharist. Second, there are contextual clues in the passage that point in the direction of a metaphorical interpretation. For example, Jesus employs Hebrew parallelism in verse 35, equating “eating” and “drinking” with “coming” and “believing.” So I interpret the eating of Jesus’ flesh and drinking of his blood not in a literalistic fashion, but as a reference to faith in Christ. In the words of Donald Carson, “John 6 is not about the Lord’s Supper; rather, the Lord’s Supper is about what is described in John 6” (The Gospel According to John [Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1991], 280. By the way, Carson offers a helpful review and refutation of the sacramental interpretation of this passage [pp. 276-80]). Of course, every time we partake of the Lord’s Supper by faith we commemorate and proclaim Christ’s death (1 Cor. 11:23ff.). And since Jesus promises to manifest his special presence when two or three of his disciples are gathered together in his name (Matthew 18:20), I can affirm the “real presence” of Christ at the Table. Like the Reformers, however, I reject the notion that the bread or wine are magically or mystically transformed into the actually body and blood of the Savior. Moreover, I find no command in Scripture to worship the elements of the Lord’s Table. So I agree with my confession when it describes the veneration of the elements in the Mass as idolatrous. You can belittle my refusal to venerate the Eucharist as “failing to cope” with the plain teaching of Scripture. But I must stand before God someday in the Day of Judgment, and therefore, I will give no implicit faith to any human tradition regardless of its antiquity (that includes my own Reformed Baptist tradition). Like Luther, my conscience must be gripped and guided by Scripture and sound reasoning—not the dictates of Popes or dead bishops or ancient organizations.
Finally, I can agree, “The key to Scripture is not a passage of Scripture.” Actually, I’m not sure that any Protestant would make that claim. Most of us would assert that the key to any one text or passage of Scripture is the whole of Scripture (i.e., the analogy of Scripture). Furthermore, I can agree that, from another perspective, Christ himself is the key that unlocks the meaning of the Scriptures (Luke 24:44-47; John 5:39). You have not convinced me, however, that Christ’s “mystical body” is equivalent to “the Assyrian Church of the East, the Oriental Orthodox Communion, the Byzantine Orthodox Communion, and the Roman Catholic Church.” Nor have you convinced me that these communions hold the interpretive key that unlocks the meaning of Scripture.
Cordially yours,
Bob Gonzales
