Monthly Archives: August 2019

The Confession of 1689 and Covenant Theology

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by Jeff Johnson

original source – https://founders.org/2017/04/27/the-confession-of-1689-and-covenant-theology/

Historically, Reformed Baptists are covenantal. Though they differ from their Presbyterian brothers on a few key issues, according to the 1689 London Baptist Confession of Faith, Baptists were equally committed to a robust covenantal framework of the history of redemption. In fact, every chapter of the confession is built on a covenantal matrix. Though chapter 7 is devoted entirely to the covenants, the chapters on creation, providence, the fall of man, Christ, justification, repentance, the gospel, good works, and perseverance are explained from a covenantal perspective.

For our Baptist forefathers, an alteration of the doctrine of the covenants is an alteration of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The gospel, in its broader context, includes the fulfilling of the covenant of works by the Second Adam, Jesus the Christ, that was broken by the first Adam; the Second Adam endured its curses and established its blessings for all those who are chosen by God to be represented by the Second Adam in the covenant of grace.

With this in mind, chapter 7 of the confession stresses three essential truths relating to its covenantal framework. Paragraph 1 confesses a prelapsarian covenant of works. Paragraph 2 confesses a postlapsarian covenant of grace. Paragraph 3 confesses an eternal covenant of redemption.

The Covenant of Works

Paragraph 1 confesses a prelapsarian covenant of works. Though the phrase “covenant of works” is located in 7:1 of the Westminster Confession, but is missing in 7:1 of the 1689, it is not because the 1689 denies that God’s pre-fall arrangement with Adam was a covenant of works. This is made clear in 20:1, where the 1689 calls it “the covenant of works.” Moreover, in 19:1, the 1689 explains that this prelapsarian covenant was based on works:

God gave to Adam a law of universal obedience written in his heart, and a particular precept of not eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil; by which he bound him and all his posterity to personal, entire, exact, and perpetual obedience; promised life upon the fulfilling, and threatened death upon the breach of it.

Adam, in his state of innocence (7:3), was to merit eternal life through obedience to God’s moral law. Anything short of perfect obedience would result in death. And, as Nehemiah Coxe reminded us, this covenant did not include “the least iota of pardoning mercy.”1

The Necessity of the Covenant of Works

Moreover, the 1689 states that the covenant of works was necessary for eternal life to be promised to man. As 7:1 says: “Although reasonable creatures do owe obedience to him as their creator, yet they could never have attained the reward of life but by some voluntary condescension on God’s part, which he hath been pleased to express by way of covenant.”

This implies that the quality of life that God promised to man was of a greater value than what man possessed in his innocence and of a greater value than that which God was obligated to reward man for his obedience. Without this covenant, according to the confession, eternal life couldn’t have been offered to man.

The Perpetuity of the Covenant of Works

Of course, the confession states that the covenant of works was broken (20:1). A broken covenant, however, does not mean an abrogated covenant. Though the covenant of works was broken by Adam, the 1689 teaches that it remains binding on all of Adam’s posterity. That is, the same covenant of works that was established with Adam before the fall continues to be enforced on all of Adam’s unredeemed posterity after the fall.

First, the covenant of works continues after the fall because its curses continue to plague the human race after the fall. The confession teaches that the first Adam was the federal head of the human race and that he brought universal condemnation and death to all his descendant by his failure to keep the covenant of works (6:1, 2, 3). Because universal condemnation and original sin continue, the covenant of works continues.

Two, the covenant of works continues after the fall because its legal demands continue to bind the human race after the fall. The terms of the covenant of works consisted of more than just refraining from eating from the forbidden tree; it required complete obedience to God’s moral law that was written on Adam’s conscience (19:1). And though it is impossible for Adam’s descendants to eat of the forbidden tree, they are able to violate God’s moral law that is equally written in their conscience. As the confession states: “The same law that was first written in the heart of man continued to be a perfect rule of righteousness after the fall” (19:1).

Three, the covenant of works continues after the fall because man’s moral inability does not nullify man’s moral culpability. Though the confession clearly teaches that fallen man is unable to keep the demands of the covenant of works: “The covenant of works being broken by sin, and made unprofitable unto life” (20:1), it states that the terms and promises/threats of the covenant of works continue to all of Adam’s children. For instance, according to the confession, Israel was reminded of the terms of the prelapsarian covenant of works in the postlapsarian covenant that was established with them at Mt Sinai. The “same law” that was written on Adam’s heart, according to the confession, was “delivered by God upon Mount Sinai” (19:2). So even though fallen man cannot obey, they are still required by God to obey.

Four, the covenant of works continues after the fall, as 19:6 strongly implies, because the only way to be free from the demands of the law “as a covenant of works” is to be justified by Christ and brought into the covenant of grace by faith. Unlike our Presbyterian friends, Baptists do not believe in any dual covenantal membership. According to the 1689, Adam’s descendants are either under the covenant of works or they are under the covenant of grace. It is one or the other: for it is impossible for those represented by the first Adam (i.e., the natural seed of believers) to be members of the covenant of grace. Moreover, just as it is impossible for those represented by the first Adam to keep the covenant of works, it is impossible for those represented by the second Adam to break the covenant of grace. This is a major Baptist distinctive that is confirmed by the 1689.

In summary, the covenant of works consisted of God’s promising Adam and his children eternal life for perfect obedience, and threatening eternal death for a single act of disobedience. Though Adam broke the covenant of works and brought death and condemnation on all his seed, the demands and curses of the covenant of works continue to be enforced on all of Adam’s seed who are outside of faith in Jesus Christ.

The Covenant of Grace

Because the covenant of works leaves sinners hopeless, sinners need the gospel. Because of this, paragraph 2 introduces the gospel by introducing the covenant of grace: “Moreover, man having brought himself under the curse of the law by his fall, it pleased the Lord to make a covenant of grace, wherein he freely offereth unto sinners life and salvation by Jesus Christ” (7:2). The union between the covenant of grace and the gospel is reaffirmed in chapter 20: “The covenant of works being broken by sin, and made unprofitable unto life, God was pleased to give forth the promise of Christ, the seed of the woman, as the means of calling the elect, and begetting in them faith and repentance: in this promise of the gospel” (20:1).

The Covenant of Grace is the Only Means of Salvation

Though the confession teaches the perpetuity of the covenant of works throughout the Old and New Testament dispensations, it strongly affirms that salvation in both dispensations is by grace and grace alone. The continuation of the covenant of works was not to drive sinners to the law, but to drive them to their knees. Because the law is unable to bestow eternal life to covenant breakers, God revealed the gospel immediately after the fall (20:1). Adam and all his fallen offspring were given hope of eternal life through the proclamation of the gospel, and through the proclamation of the gospel alone.

What is interesting about paragraph 2 is the absence of the main distinctive of Presbyterian covenant theology: that the Old and New Covenants are two different administrations of the same covenant of grace. The Westminster Confession states: “There are not therefore two covenants of grace, differing in substance, but one and the same, under various dispensations” (7:6). This allows for Presbyterians to incorporate unbelieving children into the covenant of grace. This phrase was removed from the 1689, and for good reason. The 1689 does not claim that the Mosaic Covenant was an administration of the covenant of grace. Rather, it simply says that the covenant of grace was innately revealed in the protoevangelium (Genesis 3:15), and then with greater clarity it was revealed throughout the progression of the Old Testament dispensation until it came to its fullest manifestation in the New Testament: “This covenant is revealed [not established] in the gospel; first of all to Adam in the promise of salvation by the seed of the woman, and afterwards by further steps, until the full discovery thereof was completed in the New Testament” (7:3).

More explicitly, the 1689 says that the covenant of grace, which was established by the blood of Jesus, was retroactive during the Old Testament dispensation: “Although the price of redemption was not actually paid by Christ until after His incarnation, yet the virtue, efficacy, and benefit thereof were communicated to the elect in all ages” (8:6). This is in agreement with Benjamin Keach who said: “All believers, who lived under the Old Testament, were saved by the covenant of grace, which Christ was to establish.”2

This implies that the covenant of grace is identical to the New Covenant. So rather than the covenant of grace being established through various administrations of the different covenants of the Old Testament (Abrahamic, Mosaic, and Davidic), it was established by Christ in the New Covenant. Therefore, Old Testament believers were saved by faith in Christ, in the same way New Testament believers are saved by faith in Christ. Or as paragraph 3 states: “It is alone by the grace of this covenant that all the posterity of fallen Adam that ever were saved did obtain life and blessed immortality” (7:3).

And, if membership in the covenant of grace is by faith in Christ alone, then only believers alone, and not their unbelieving children, are in the covenant of grace. In fact, this is one of the main distinctives of Baptist covenant theology: only believers, in any dispensation, are members of the covenant of grace. This formation of covenant theology makes the 1689 distinct from the covenant theology of the Westminster Confession of Faith.

The Covenant of Grace is the Fulfillment of the Covenant of Works

Moreover, according to the 1689, Christ established the covenant of grace by fulfilling the legal demands of the covenant of works: as the 1689 says, “[the Lord] was made under the law, and did perfectly fulfil it” (8:4). Not only did He obey the same demands of the covenant of works that we were obligated to obey, He “underwent the punishment due to us, which we should have borne and suffered, being made sin and a curse for us” (8:4).

This is why we are saved by works, but the works that save us are the imputed works of Christ that come by faith alone and grace alone. The covenant of grace is the fulfillment of the covenant of works, or it could be said that the New Covenant is a covenant of works for Christ, but a covenant of grace for believers. As Benjamin Keach stated:

As it refers to Christ…it was a conditional covenant. Christ receives all for us, wholly upon the account of His own merits. But whatsoever we receive by virtue of this covenant, it is wholly in a way of free grace and favor, through His merits, or through that redemption we have by His blood.3

In this covenantal framework we see the unity of the Scriptures and a single plan of redemption throughout the Old and New Testaments. Adam’s children are either condemned by the first Adam, or they are justified by the second Adam. They are either under the covenant of works or under the covenant of grace—and this depending on who is their federal head. Again, this separates Baptists from Presbyterians, as it does not allow for either unbelieving children or covenant breakers to be members of the covenant of grace.

The Covenant of Redemption

The last paragraph of chapter 7 explains why the history of redemption does not depict God as adjusting his plans on the fly. The covenant of grace was established by Christ enduring the penalty of the covenant of works in His death and by His meriting the reward of the covenant of works in His resurrection. Yet, all this was in accordance with God’s eternal plan that was established between the Father and Son before the foundation of the world (7:1). Or as chapter 8 explains it: “It pleased God, in His eternal purpose, to choose and ordain the Lord Jesus, his only begotten Son, according to the covenant made between them both, to be the mediator between God and man” (8:1). Thus, the history of redemption, including the prelapsarian covenant of works and the postlapsarian covenant of grace, is the outworking of the eternal covenant of redemption.

Conclusion

The covenant theology of the 1689 is brilliantly laid out. It clearly states the main distinctives of Baptist covenant theology. There is (1.) a prelapsarian covenant of works that was broken by the first Adam and condemns all unbelievers, (2.) but that was fulfilled by the second Adam who established the postlapsarian covenant of grace for only believers, (3.) and this was in accordance with the eternal covenant of redemption.

With a clear distinction between the covenant of works and the covenant of grace, and with a clear distinction between unbelievers and believers, the 1689 presents a distinct covenant theology that is thoroughly baptistic.


NOTES:

1 Nehemiah Coxe and John Owen, Covenant Theology: From Adam to Christ (Palmdale, CA: Reformed Baptist Academic Press, 2005), 49.

2 Benjamin Keach, “The Display of Glorious Grace” in The Covenant Theology of Benjamin Keach (Conway: Free Grace Press, 2017), 110.

3 Ibid., 157.

Why I Do Not Think the King James Bible Is the Best Translation Available Today

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by Daniel B. Wallace – source – https://bible.org/users/daniel-b-wallace

Dr. Dan Wallace has taught Greek and New Testament courses on a graduate school level since 1979. He has a Ph.D. from Dallas Theological Seminary, and is currently professor of New Testament Studies at his alma mater. His Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament (Zondervan, 1996) has become a standard textbook in colleges and seminaries. He is the senior New Testament editor of the NET Bible. Dr. Wallace is also the Executive Director for the Center for the Study of New Testament Manuscripts.

First, I want to affirm with all evangelical Christians that the Bible is the Word of God, inerrant, inspired, and our final authority for faith and life. However, nowhere in the Bible am I told that only one translation of it is the correct one. Nowhere am I told that the King James Bible is the best or only ‘holy’ Bible. There is no verse that tells me how God will preserve his word, so I can have no scriptural warrant for arguing that the King James has exclusive rights to the throne. The arguments must proceed on other bases.

Second, the Greek text which stands behind the King James Bible is demonstrably inferior in certain places. The man who edited the text was a Roman Catholic priest and humanist named Erasmus.1 He was under pressure to get it to the press as soon as possible since (a) no edition of the Greek New Testament had yet been published, and (b) he had heard that Cardinal Ximenes and his associates were just about to publish an edition of the Greek New Testament and he was in a race to beat them. Consequently, his edition has been called the most poorly edited volume in all of literature! It is filled with hundreds of typographical errors which even Erasmus would acknowledge. Two places deserve special mention. In the last six verses of Revelation, Erasmus had no Greek manuscript (=MS) (he only used half a dozen, very late MSS for the whole New Testament any way). He was therefore forced to ‘back-translate’ the Latin into Greek and by so doing he created seventeen variants which have never been found in any other Greek MS of Revelation! He merely guessed at what the Greek might have been. Secondly, for 1 John 5:7-8, Erasmus followed the majority of MSS in reading “there are three witnesses in heaven, the Spirit and the water and the blood.” However, there was an uproar in some Roman Catholic circles because his text did not read “there are three witnesses in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Spirit.” Erasmus said that he did not put that in the text because he found no Greek MSS which had that reading. This implicit challenge—viz., that if he found such a reading in any Greek MS, he would put it in his text—did not go unnoticed. In 1520, a scribe at Oxford named Roy made such a Greek MS (codex 61, now in Dublin). Erasmus’ third edition had the second reading because such a Greek MS was ‘made to order’ to fill the challenge! To date, only a handful of Greek MSS have been discovered which have the Trinitarian formula in 1 John 5:7-8, though none of them is demonstrably earlier than the sixteenth century.

That is a very important point. It illustrates something quite significant with regard to the textual tradition which stands behind the King James. Probably most textual critics today fully embrace the doctrine of the Trinity (and, of course, all evangelical textual critics do). And most would like to see the Trinity explicitly taught in 1 John 5:7-8. But most reject this reading as an invention of some overly zealous scribe. The problem is that the King James Bible is filled with readings which have been created by overly zealous scribes! Very few of the distinctive King James readings are demonstrably ancient. And most textual critics just happen to embrace the reasonable proposition that the most ancient MSS tend to be more reliable since they stand closer to the date of the autographs. I myself would love to see many of the King James readings retained. The story of the woman caught in adultery (John 7:53-8:11) has always been a favorite of mine about the grace of our savior, Jesus Christ. That Jesus is called God in 1 Timothy 3:16 affirms my view of him. Cf. also John 3:13; 1 John 5:7-8, etc. But when the textual evidence shows me both that scribes had a strong tendency to add, rather than subtract, and that most of these additions are found in the more recent MSS, rather than the more ancient, I find it difficult to accept intellectually the very passages which I have always embraced emotionally. In other words, those scholars who seem to be excising many of your favorite passages from the New Testament are not doing so out of spite, but because such passages are not found in the better and more ancient MSS. It must be emphatically stressed, however, that this does not mean that the doctrines contained in those verses have been jeopardized. My belief in the deity of Christ, for example, does not live or die with 1 Timothy 3:16. In fact, it has been repeatedly affirmed that no doctrine of Scripture has been affected by these textual differences. If that is true, then the ‘King James only’ advocates might be crying wolf where none exists, rather than occupying themselves with the more important aspects of advancing the gospel.2

Third, the King James Bible has undergone three revisions since its inception in 1611, incorporating more than 100,000 changes. Which King James Bible is inspired, therefore?

Fourth, 300 words found in the KJV no longer bear the same meaning—e.g., “Suffer little children…to come unto me” (Matt 19:14). “Study to shew thyself approved unto God” (2 Tim 2:15). Should we really embrace a Bible as the best translation when it uses language that not only is not clearly understood any more, but in fact has been at times perverted and twisted?3

Fifth, the KJV includes one very definite error in translation, which even KJV advocates would admit. In Matthew 23:24 the KJV has ‘strain at a gnat and swallow a camel.’ But the Greek has ‘strain out a gnat and swallow a camel.’ In the least, this illustrates not only that no translation is infallible but also that scribal corruptions can and do take place-even in a volume which has been worked over by so many different hands (for the KJV was the product of a very large committee of over 50 scholars).4

Sixth, when the KJV was first published, it was heavily resisted for being too easy to understand! Some people revere it today because it is difficult to understand. I fear that part of their response is due to pride: they feel as though they are able to discern something that other, less spiritual folks cannot. Often 1 Corinthians 2:13-16 is quoted with reference to the KJV (to the effect that ‘you would understand it if you were spiritual’). Such a use of that text, however, is a gross distortion of the Scriptures. The words in the New Testament, the grammar, the style, etc.—in short, the language—comprised the common language of the first century. We do God a great disservice when we make the gospel more difficult to understand than he intended it. The reason unspiritual people do not understand the scriptures is because they have a volitional problem, not an intellectual problem (cf. 1 Cor. 2:14 where ‘receive,’ ‘welcome’ shows clearly that the thing which blocks understanding is the sinful will of man).

Seventh, those who advocate that the KJV has exclusive rights to being called the Holy Bible are always, curiously, English-speaking people (normally isolated Americans). Yet, Martin Luther’s fine translation of the Bible into German predated the KJV by almost 100 years. Are we so arrogant to say that God has spoken only in English? And where there are substantial discrepancies between Luther’s Bible and the KJV (such as in 1 John 5:7-8), are we going to say that God has inspired both? Is he the author of lies? Our faith does not rest in a singular tradition, nor is it provincial. Vibrant, biblical Christianity must never unite itself with provincialism. Otherwise, missionary endeavor, among other things, would die.

Eighth, again, let me repeat an earlier point: Most evangelicals—who embrace all the cardinal doctrines of the faith—prefer a different translation and textual basis than that found in the KJV. In fact, even the editors of the New Scofield Reference Bible (which is based on the KJV) prefer a different text/translation!

Finally, though it is true that the modern translations ‘omit’ certain words and verses (or conversely, the KJV adds to the Word of God, depending on how you look at it), the issue is not black-or-white. In fact, the most recent edition of a Greek New Testament which is based on the majority of MSS, rather than the most ancient ones (and thus stands firmly behind the King James tradition), when compared to the standard Greek New Testament used in most modern translations, excises over six hundred and fifty words or phrases! Thus, it is not proper to suggest that only modern translations omit; the Greek text behind the KJV omits, too! The question, then, is not whether modern translations have deleted portions of the Word of God, but rather whether either the KJV or modern translations have altered the Word of God. I contend that the KJV has far more drastically altered the scriptures than have modern translations. Nevertheless, I repeat: most textual critics for the past two hundred and fifty years would say that no doctrine is affected by these changes. One can get saved reading the KJV and one can get saved reading the NIV, NASB, etc.

I trust that this brief survey of reasons I have for thinking that the King James Bible is not the best available translation will not be discarded quickly. All of us have a tendency to make mountains out of molehills and then to set up fortresses in those ‘mountains.’ We often cling to things out of emotion, rather than out of true piety. And as such we do a great disservice to a dying world that is desperately in need of a clear, strong voice proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ. Soli Deo gloria!

Addendum

One further point is necessary. With the recent publication of several different books vilifying modern translations, asserting that they were borne out of conspiratorial motives, a word should be mentioned about this concocted theory. First, many of these books are written by people who have little or no knowledge of Greek or Hebrew, and are, further, a great distortion of the facts. I have read books on textual criticism for more than a quarter of a century, but never have I seen such illogic, out-of-context quotations, and downright deceptions about the situation as in these recent books. Second, although it is often asserted that heretics produced some of the New Testament MSS we now have in our possession, there is only one group of MSS known to be produced by heretics: certain Byzantine MSS of the book of Revelation. This is significant because the Byzantine text stands behind the KJV! These MSS formed part of a mystery cult textbook used by various early cults. But KJV advocates constantly make the charge that the earliest MSS (the Alexandrian MSS) were produced by heretics. The sole basis they have for this charge is that certain readings in these MSS are disagreeable to them! Third, when one examines the variations between the Greek text behind the KJV (the Textus Receptus) and the Greek text behind modern translations, it is discovered that the vast majority of variations are so trivial as to not even be translatable (the most common is the moveable nu, which is akin to the difference between ‘who’ and ‘whom’!). Fourth, when one compares the number of variations that are found in the various MSS with the actual variations between the Textus Receptus and the best Greek witnesses, it is found that these two are remarkably similar. There are over 400,000 textual variants among NT MSS. But the differences between the Textus Receptus and texts based on the best Greek witnesses number about 5000—and most of these are untranslatable differences! In other words, over 98% of the time, the Textus Receptus and the standard critical editions agree. Those who vilify the modern translations and the Greek texts behind them have evidently never really investigated the data. Their appeals are based largely on emotion, not evidence. As such, they do an injustice to historic Christianity as well as to the men who stood behind the King James Bible. These scholars, who admitted that their work was provisional and not final (as can be seen by their preface and by their more than 8000 marginal notes indicating alternate renderings), would wholeheartedly welcome the great finds in MSS that have occurred in the past one hundred and fifty years.

1 Now a humanist in the sixteenth century is not the same as a humanist today. Erasmus was generally tolerant of other viewpoints, and was particularly interested in the humanities. Although he was a friend of Melanchthon, Luther’s right-hand man, Luther did not care for him.

2 It is significant that Erasmus himself was quite progressive in his thinking, and would hardly be in favor of how the KJV Only advocates have embraced him as their champion. For example, every one of his editions of the Greek NT was a diglot—Latin on one side and Greek on the other. The Latin was his own translation, and was meant to improve upon Jerome’s Latin Vulgate—a translation which the Catholic church had declared to be inspired. For this reason, Cambridge University immediately banned Erasmus’ New Testament, and others followed suit. Elsewhere, Erasmus questioned whether the pericope adulterae (the story of the woman caught in adultery [John 7:53-8:11]), the longer ending of Mark (16:9-20), etc., were authentic.

3 “Suffer” in Matt 19:14 means “permit”; “study” in 2 Tim 2:15 means “be eager, be diligent.” See the Oxford English Dictionary (the largest unabridged dictionary of the English language) for help here: it traces the uses of words through their history, pinpointing the year in which a new meaning came into vogue.

4 There are other mistakes in the KJV which persist to this day, even though this translation has gone through several editions. For example, the KJV in Heb 4:8 reads: “For if Jesus had given them rest, then would he not afterward have spoken of another day.” This sounds as though Jesus could not provide the eternal rest that we all long for! However, the Greek word for Jesus is the same as the word for Joshua. And in the context of Heb 4, Joshua is obviously meant. There is no textual problem here; it is rather simply a mistake on the part of the translators, perpetuated for the last 400 years in all editions of the KJV.

Is God Good All The Time? (Rom. 8:28-30)

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by Bill Mounce (source – https://www.biblicaltraining.org/blog/god-all-good-all-time-romans-8-28-30)

The worst phone call of my life came on February 3, 1986, telling me that at our first baby, Rose, at 14 weeks had no heartbeat. The only positive thought was that the odds were in our favor that this wouldn’t happen again.

But on January 17, 1988, our second daughter, Rachel, died in my arms four hours after birth of a rare genetic disease that could also have been the cause of Rose’s death.

As the years went by, I never really got over Rachel’s death; I can still feel her last gasp for air in the cradle of my arm. I don’t really want to get over it since that physical memory was all I have of her. Rather, I learned to live with the pain, as it became my teacher.

There is so much pain in this world, pain that far exceeds my own. Adult survivors of abuse — sexual, physical, emotional. I remember a single mom in our church trying desperately to find a family to adopt her three children before she died of cancer. But pain is our teacher, and I slowly learned the meaning of Romans 8:28–30….“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. And those he predestined, h…

This is a promise to God’s children, to “those who love him,” to those “who have been called according to his purpose.” It is not a promise to those outside his covenantal community. God is not a celestial nanny who has promised to step into “strangers’ ” lives and make everything okay. Sometimes of course he does, but he has not promised to do so. Frankly, I don’t see how someone outside of our covenantal community can come to terms with evil; the futility of life must be overwhelming.

But for the Christian, we know that our sovereign God so controls reality that he can work in the midst of any situation and bring about his good. I didn’t say that all things are good; genocide is not good. Nor did I say that God works out the good that we wish to experience. I said that God works out all things for “his” good. Why do I say that? Look at the next two verses; v 28 should never be read separate from vv 29–30, because they define what “good” means. (For you grammar nerds, neither v 28 nor v 29 end in a period in Greek, and vv 29–30 are a single dependent clause defining what “good” is.)

Here is God’s good. Before time, he knew us and predestined (pre-determined) that those he called, he would conform to the image of his Son Jesus; he pre-determined the benefits we would receive. In time, he called us to himself and justified us, declared us not guilty of our sins. In the future we will most certainly be glorified; it is so certain that Paul uses a past tense verb (“aorist”) to affirm the certainty of this future event. Our predestination was not for the purpose of theological debate; it was the guarantee that those who are adopted into God’s family will look like their big brother, Jesus.

Our human tendency is to want to define “good” as we would like to experience it — the cessation of pain; physical healing; an abundance of corrupting wealth. But these are a poor substitute for the good that God has planned: the fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22–23). But God works in us for his good, whether we like it or not. He doesn’t have to ask us permission; that’s one of the perks of being God.

Am I glad that Rachel died? Not really; I keep thinking that there could have been some other way. In fact, I don’t think I have to be glad, but what I do need to see is all the good that God wrapped around my pain, good that I believe is greater than the pain itself. Am I convinced that God’s definition of “good” is right? Yes! Am I convinced that God is all good all the time? Absolutely.

The end of my story is pretty spectacular. This will not be the case for everyone, but it is for me. Because Rachel died, we adopted our first child, Tyler, 10 months later. His was the only birth I saw, even though we later had two other biological children, and his cord was the only one I cut. If Rachel had not died, I would not have Tyler. Five years ago Tyler married Rachel Fields; note the name. At their wedding rehearsal, I reduced every single person to a flood of tears as I shared how God was completing the circle that had been started 25 years earlier, even to the point of her name. I got my Rachel back.

Last night I went down to the dock; we have a cabin on the Pend Oreille River in northeast Washington where there are almost no outside lights. The sky was clear and the moon was not to be seen. As I stared up at the sky, I could see the Milky Way galaxy reflecting its light down the river, and so many other lights in the sky, many of them being their own galaxies. What a God we serve and love.

The joy of the Christian comes from a deep-down conviction that God is at work in all situations for his good, and in knowing that one day we will be able to say with the martyred saints, “Great and marvelous are your deeds, Lord God Almighty. Just and true are your ways, King of the nations” (Rev 15:3).

The only questions for you are, ”Will you allow pain to be your teacher?” and, “Do you want to look like Jesus?”

The Five Solas Book

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I am very much encouraged (and thankful to God) due to the feedback I am continuing to receive regarding the Five Solas book. It is now available in a number of formats (including a newly translated Spanish version):

The books starts with these words:

“Light dispels darkness. When the light of God’s Word shines into places of spiritual and cultural darkness, it transforms people, families and nations. It does not matter how long the darkness has persisted; when light appears, darkness, like a hostile, renegade, usurper to the throne, must submit, bow its head, and walk away in shame. Again, light dispels darkness. The entrance of God’s word brings light!

Darkness is the shared experience of a people without light. Such was the case before the Protestant Reformation. The Bible was not known. In its place, religious superstition, tradition and falsehood reigned. The Reformation brought God’s word and the Gospel back into the hands of the masses.

Man-made traditions that had kept the people in bondage for centuries were now exposed for what they really were. Entire nations, held captive by the powers of darkness, were now exposed to the truth. Dramatic change occurred. Outside the book of Acts in the New Testament, there has not been a greater move of the Holy Spirit in the history of the church. Our world would never be the same. A Latin phrase, ‘Post tenebras lux’ captured the enfolding, historical drama, meaning, ‘After darkness, light!’

As the Bible came to be read in the common language of the people, the great central truths the Bible proclaimed were recovered, often at great cost to those who came to embrace them.

The Reformation recovered and highlighted glorious Scriptural truths which have been expressed in five memorable phrases, now known as the Five Solas. Properly understood, these Five Solas bring us back to the very heart of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.”

Paperback Version

Ebook and Audiobook version

Spanish translation

Endorsements:

“You have succinctly and clearly distilled the essence of the ‘solas.’ May God mightily use your book for His glory. Thank you for the encouragement in the gospel you have brought to me.” – R. C. Sproul

“This is such a crucial topic; and having read many pieces written on the five solas, this one stands out for not only being theologically sound, but also clear and concise. It is written in a way that just about anyone could pick up and understand. I am thankful that God has raised up his servant John Samson for this deeply needed work; a work we ought to get into the hands of as many people as possible.” – John Hendryx, monergism.com

“Get this book! Then get several more to share with your friends and family. John Samson has the remarkable ability to communicate essential truths with an undeniable passion and faithfulness that is winsome, clear, and devastating to the opposition. The people of God in this generation are in need of these old truths: the same truths that transformed the early church and led our heroes (throughout history) into living lives that changed the world. Go sell 100 of your vapid, modern Evangellyfish books and turn that money into getting this book into the hearts and minds of Christians everywhere.” – Jeff Durbin, Pastor, Apologia Church, Tempe, Arizona

“Recent years have seen a number of key anniversaries connected with events and people who were vital catalysts in the Protestant Reformation. Thankfully this has resulted in a renewed focus on the ‘five solas’–a convenient shorthand list of the Reformers’ key convictions. Throughout church history, wherever these principles have been stressed and adhered to, the church has always flourished. So it is a highly encouraging trend. I’m thankful for this excellent book by John Samson; a cogent, focused, and accessible study of the solas that not only reminds us what these principles mean, but also shows us why they are important–and why they must stand together.” – Phil Johnson, Executive Director, Grace to You

“Some authors make you read three chapters before getting to the first point in their outline. If you wish to understand the foundation of the solas of the Reformation but would like to do so in under an hour, John Samson provides you with the basics right here.” – Dr. James White, Alpha & Omega Ministries, Phoenix, Arizona

“Part celebration and part exposition, Pastor John Samson has provided a brief and readable introduction to the grand framing truths of the Reformation. In this timely little work, Samson particularly emphasizes how the five “Onlies” magnify God’s complete and gracious work of salvation in Jesus Christ — of which we learn in Scripture alone, which we find in Christ alone and enjoy by grace alone, through faith alone, to the glory of God alone! As a bonus, Samson not only concisely shows the radiance of each, but also the interrelationship of the whole. Pastors will find this a very useful introductory work for use in ministry.” – Dan Phillips, Pastor, Copperfield Bible Church, Houston, Texas



Should Women Preach in Our Churches?

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Article by Kevin DeYoung (original source here – https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/kevin-deyoung/women-preach-churches/ )

This is not an article about the case for complementarianism instead of egalitarianism. That matters, of course, but this piece is for self-identified complementarians wondering if their theology can allow, or should allow, for women preaching.

Here is the question I want to address:

Is there biblical justification, given basic complementarian convictions, for the practice of women preaching sermons in a Sunday worship service?

Most people reading this blog understand the immediate relevancy of the question posed above. I’m not going to rehearse the cases where this question has been raised or sift through recent responses online. Instead, I’m going to interact with what I think is the best case, from a complementarian perspective, for allowing women to preach. First, I’ll explain the argument for women preaching as fairly as I can. Then I’ll make a case why the argument—no matter how plausible it may sound at first—fails to convince.

Hearing Her Voice

The best argument I’ve seen for women preaching is by the Australian minister and apologist John Dickson in his book Hearing Her Voice: A Biblical Invitation for Women to Preach (Zondervan, 2014). With affirming blurbs from J.I. Packer, Craig Blomberg, Graham Cole, and Chris Wright, one can see why this has been an influential book. Even if you aren’t familiar with the book, I’m quite certain it’s influenced people you do know. Besides the commendation from well-respected evangelical scholars, Dickson’s book is a model of clarity and accessibility. In just over 100 pages, Dickson makes a thoughtful, straightforward case—as one who admits “to being a broad complementarian” (88)—for the legitimacy of women preaching sermons in Sunday services.

Not surprisingly, Dickson focuses on 1 Timothy 2:12. While the application seems obvious to many of us—women aren’t permitted to teach or to exercise authority, so they shouldn’t preach sermons—Dickson argues that we’ve misunderstood what Paul meant by teaching. “Put simply,” Dickson writes, “there are numerous public-speaking ministries mentioned in the New Testament—teaching, exhorting, evangelising, prophesying, reading, and so on—and Paul restricts just one of them to qualified males: ‘teaching’” (11-12).

At the heart of Dickson’s argument is a simple syllogism, we can summarize like this:

  1. The only thing women can’t do in worship is teach.
  2. For Paul, teaching was a technical and narrowly conceived enterprise that is not the same as our modern sermon.
  3. Therefore, women can speak in almost every way in a church service, including preaching the sermon.

So, if preaching a sermon does not count as teaching, what did Paul mean by teaching? Dickson explains:

1 Timothy 2:12 does not refer to a general type of speaking based on Scripture. Rather, it refers to a specific activity found throughout the pages of the New Testament, namely preserving and laying down the tradition handed on by the apostles. This activity is different from the explanation and application of a Bible passage found in today’s typical expository sermon. (12)

Dickson builds the case for this preliminary conclusion in four parts.

Part One. There are several different kinds of speaking mentioned in the Bible: prophesying, evangelising, reading, exhorting, teaching, and so on. We know from texts like 1 Corinthians 12:28, 1 Corinthians 14, Romans 12:4-8, and 1 Timothy 4:13 that Paul did not treat these speaking ministries as identical. Only one of these types of speaking is restricted to men, the activity of teaching (27).

Part Two. In the ancient world, and specifically for Paul, to teach (didasko) was a technical term for passing on a fixed oral tradition (34, 45). Teaching does not refer to expounding or explaining but to transmitting words intact (33). With the close of the biblical canon, there is not the same need for teaching in this technical sense.

Part Three. In the New Testament, teaching never means explaining or applying a biblical passage (50, 54). A teacher was someone who carefully passed down the fixed traditions or the body of apostolic words from their original source to a new community of faith (57, 59, 61). Some contemporary sermons may contain elements of this transmission, but this is not the typical function of weekly exposition (64). What we think of as the sermon is more aptly called exhortation (65).

Part Four. The apostolic deposit is now found in the pages of the New Testament. No individual is charged with preserving and transmitting the fixed oral traditions about Jesus (72, 74). Our preachers may be analogous to ancient teachers, but we do not preserve and transmit the apostolic deposit to the same degree, in the same manner, or with the same authority (73, 75). The typical sermon where a preacher comments on the teaching of the apostles, exhorts us to follow that teaching, and then applies that teaching is not itself teaching. The modern sermon is, depending on your definition, more like prophesying or exhorting, both of which are open to women (75).

From Yes to No

Dickson includes academic footnotes in making his case, as well as caveats and qualifications along the way. But the gist of his argument is arrestingly simple: Teaching is not what we do when we preach a sermon. Only teaching is forbidden to women. Women, therefore, can preach sermons in our churches.

I find Dickson’s thesis unconvincing for two basic reasons. I believe his view of ancient teaching is overly narrow and his view of contemporary preaching is exceedingly thin. Let me unpack this conclusion by looking at teaching from a variety of angles.

Teaching in the Early Church

The strength of Dickson’s approach is that he rightly points to the different speaking words in the New Testament. True, teaching and exhorting and prophesying and reading are not identical. And yet, his overly technical definition of “teaching” does not fit the evidence, or in some instances even square with basic common sense. If “I do not permit a woman to teach” can mean “I permit a woman to preach because preaching doesn’t involve teaching” we must be employing very restrictive definitions of preaching and teaching.

More to the point, we have to wonder why this highly nuanced reading has been lost on almost every commentator for two millennia. In a revealing endnote on the last page of the book, Dickson acknowledges “I have no doubt that within time the word ‘teaching’ in the early church came to mean explaining and applying the written words of the New Testament (and entire Bible). That would be an interesting line of research, but I am not sure it would overturn the evidence that in 1 Tim. 2:12 Paul had a different meaning of this important term” (104). That is a telling admission. But it invites the question: “If ‘teaching’ in the ancient world clearly had a narrow meaning of repeating oral traditions, why does no one seem to pick up on this exclusively technical definition?” To be sure, the Bible is our final authority, but when an argument relies so heavily on first century context, you would expect the earliest centuries of the church to reinforce the argument, not undermine it.

Take the Didache, for example. This late first century document has a lot to say about teachers. They are supposed  to “teach all these things that have just been mentioned” [in the first ten chapters of the book] (11:1). They are to teach what accords with the church order laid out in the Didache (11:2). Importantly, the Didache assumes the existence of traveling teachers, apostles, and prophets, all of whom are said to teach (didaskon) (11:10-11). It is telling that “teaching” is a broad enough term to include what prophets and other speakers do, not to mention the Didache itself.

While “teach” can certainly include the passing on of oral traditions about Jesus, it cannot be restricted to only this. As Hughes Oliphant Old explains, “the Didache assumes a rather large body of prophets, teachers, bishops, and deacons who devote full time to their preaching and teaching” (The Reading and Preaching of the Scriptures, 1:256). With full time teachers and “a daily assembly of the saints, at which the Word was preached” it is hard to imagine these various ministers engaged in “teaching” that steadfastly avoided the explanation of all biblical texts.

Of course, the true teachers were passing on the apostolic deposit, but this does not mean they were simply repeating the sayings of Jesus. In the Didache, parents are told to teach (didaxeis) the fear of the Lord to their children (4:9). The author(s) apparently does not think teaching is restricted to a highly technical definition. Nor does he think preaching is little more than a running commentary plus application. “My child, remember night and day the one who preaches God’s word to you, and honor him as though he were the Lord. For wherever the Lord’s nature is preached, there the Lord is” (4:1). According to the Didache, teaching is broader than transmitting oral traditions and preaching involves more than a few words of exhortation.

Teaching in the Synagogue

One of the key points in Dickson’s argument is that the Pauline conception of teaching is rooted in the practice of the Pharisees who passed on the oral traditions of their fathers (Mark 7:7). Just as the Pharisees might repeat the sayings of Hillel, so might the New Testament teacher repeat the sayings of Jesus. According to Dickson, the closest parallel to New Testament “teaching” is the passing down of the rabbinical traditions that we find repeated and piled up in the Mishnah (39).

This is an important line of reasoning for Dickson, one he repeats several times (39, 73, 100-102). The problem with the argument is twofold.

First, while the Mishnah collects the sayings of first- and second-century rabbis, these rabbis saw themselves explaining and applying the Torah. In other words, even if the Mishnah is our example of “teaching,” there is no bright line between “oral tradition” and “explaining texts.”

Second, the Jewish synagogue service provides a much better parallel to early Christian worship services than the Mishnah. After all, Paul is talking about corporate worship in 1 Timothy 2. For centuries leading up to the Christian era, the Jews had cultivated the art of preaching and gave it a privileged place in synagogue worship. According to Old, “there was a large core of dedicated men who had given their lives to the study of the Scriptures, and who prepared themselves to preach when the leadership of the synagogue invited them to do so” (The Reading and Preaching of the Scriptures, 1:102). It makes more sense to think Paul had in mind the well-developed tradition of men doing exposition in the Jewish worship service, when he prohibits women from teaching in 1 Timothy 2:12, as opposed to the mere repetition of oral traditions.

Teaching in the Old Testament

What’s more, this synagogue teaching ministry had its roots in the Old Testament. Moses taught (didasko, LXX) the people the statutes and rules of God—repeating them yes, but also explaining and applying them (Deut. 4:1-14). The priests, at least some of them, were to be teaching priests (2 Chr. 15:3), going through the cities of Judah teaching (edidaskon, LXX) people the Book of the Law (2 Chr. 17:9). Ezra set his heart to study the Law of the Lord and to teach (didaskein, LXX) his statutes and rules in Israel (Ezra 7:10). Likewise, Ezra and the Levites read from the Law of God and taught (edidasken, LXX) the people so they could understand the reading (Neh. 8:8).

The practices described in Ezra and Nehemiah give every indication of already being well established. There are texts, there are teachers, there is a congregation. We have in miniature the most essential elements of Jewish synagogue services and the Christian services that would use synagogue worship as their starting point. It’s hard to imagine Paul meant to communicate, let alone that his audience would understand, that when he spoke of “teaching” he had in mind nothing of the Old Testament or Jewish tradition and was only thinking of Pharisees passing along oral sayings. In each of the Old Testament instances above, the teacher explains a written text. That doesn’t mean didasko must involve exposition, but the burden of proof rests with those who assert that it most certainly does not mean that.

Teaching in the New Testament

I agree with Dickson that the prohibition against women teaching in 1 Timothy 2:12 should not be taken in the broadest sense possible. Paul does not mean to forbid women from ever transmitting knowledge to someone else. He is addressing propriety in worship, not the sort of teaching we find from women to women in Titus 2 or from Priscilla and Aquila to Apollos in Acts 18. But just because we reject the broadest definition of teaching does not mean the only other option is the narrowest definition. Dickson would have us equate “teaching” with passing on oral tradition. That was certainly part of teaching in the apostolic age, but many of the places in the New Testament that speak of the apostolic tradition never mention didasko (1 Cor. 2:2; 3:10; 11:2; 11:23-26; 15:1-11; Gal. 1:6-9; 1 Thess. 4:1-2). The language instead is of receiving, delivering, or passing on.

Crucially, the Sermon on the Mount is labelled as “teaching” (Matt. 7:28-29). According to Dickson, the Sermon on the Mount is “teaching” because Jesus is correcting the tradition of the scribes and handing down his own authoritative traditions. What Jesus is not doing is expositing a text (54). Of course, Dickson is right in what Jesus is doing. He is wrong, however, in asserting what Jesus is not doing. The Sermon on the Mount is filled with Old Testament allusions, parallels, and explanations. One doesn’t have to claim that Jesus is giving a modern sermon as we might. The point is not that “teaching” everywhere in the New Testament means “exposition,” but that the two ideas cannot be neatly separated.

Jesus was recognized by many as “rabbi,” an informal title meaning “teacher.” As a teacher, Jesus frequently quoted from or explained Old Testament Scripture. In fact, Old argues that Jesus’ teaching in the Temple courts at the end of his ministry was meant to show Jesus as the fulfillment of the rabbinical office. In Matthew 21-23 we see the different schools of the time—Herodians, Pharisees, Sadducees—come to Jesus with their questions about the Law and Jesus answers them all (1:106). In solving their riddles and stepping out of their traps, Jesus showed himself to be the master teacher, the rabbi of all rabbis. And in this display, he constantly explained and interpreted Scripture. The first-century Jewish understanding of teaching must not be separated from the judicious interpretation of inspired texts, nor can it be restricted to “passing along oral traditions.”

Teaching in the Pastoral Epistles

But what if—despite the Old Testament background and the synagogue background and the use of “teaching” in the Sermon on the Mount and the broader understanding of teacher in the early Church—Paul choose to use a very narrow definition of teaching in the pastoral epistles? After surveying all the uses of “teaching” in the Pastoral Epistles, Dickson concludes that “teaching,” as a verb and a noun, refer not to Bible exposition but to apostolic words laid down for the churches (59). Simply put, “teach” does not mean exegete and apply; it means repeat and lay down (64-65). Pauline “teaching” was never(Dickson’s word, my emphasis) exposition in the contemporary sense (74). Whatever else teaching may entail in other places, according to Dickson, for Paul it only meant laying down oral tradition.

Dickson is certainly right that “teaching” in the Pastoral Epistles is about passing on the good deposit of apostolic truth about Jesus. Conservative complementarian scholar Bill Mounce, for example, has no problem affirming that 1 Timothy 2:12 has to do with “the authoritative and public transmission of tradition about Christ and the Scriptures” or that it involves “the preservation and transmission of the Christian tradition” (Pastoral Epistles, 126). But notice that Mounce does not reduce the Christian tradition to oral sayings only, to the exclusion of Scriptural explication. Likewise, the Theological Dictionary of the New Testament argues that didaskein “is closely bound to Scripture even in the NT” (146). Later the TDNT affirms that even in the pastoral epistles “the historical connexion between Scripture and didaskein is still intact” (147).

Surely this is right. Are we really to think that when Paul insisted that the elders be apt to teach that this had no reference to handling the Scriptures or rightly dividing the word of truth (2 Tim. 2:15)? Teaching must be broader than passing on oral traditions, for how else could Paul tell the older women “to teach what is good” (kalodidaskalo) to the younger women? Or consider 1 Timothy 4:13 where Paul tells Timothy to devote himself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, and to teaching. Sure, these are not identical tasks, but on Dickon’s interpretation Timothy was to read the Scriptures, exhort from the Scriptures, and then lay down the apostolic deposit without every expounding any of the Scriptures just read.

Similarly, Dickson argues that when Paul says all Scripture is profitable for teaching, he means Timothy would privately read Scripture so that he could be better equipped to publicly pass on the good deposit, but again, without expounding a Bible passage (52-53). If this is correct, then Paul never meant for teachers to explain Bible verses in reproving, correcting, or training either. The Bible may inform these tasks, but it never involves exposition of any kind (57). This strains credulity to the breaking point. Look at the preaching in Acts. There was hardly any handing down of the good deposit that did not also explain the Scriptures. And in 1 Corinthians 15 where Paul is explicitly passing along what he also received the message is not the mere repetition of verbal formulas, but the apostolic tradition that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures. One does not have to equate didasko with a three-point sermon to see that transmitting the apostolic deposit can scarcely be done apart from biblical references and exposition.

Teaching in Today’s Sermon

If Dickson’s definition of ancient teaching is too narrow, his understanding of contemporary preaching is too impoverished. In Dickson’s telling, the sermon is essentially a running commentary plus application. I confess I have a very different view of what preaching entails, not because preaching is less than exposition and application, but because it is much more. The preacher is a kerux, a herald (2 Tim. 1:11). Of course, we don’t preach with the authority of an apostle, but for those qualified men called to preach they do pass along the apostolic deposit and they ought to preach with authority. Why else would Paul command Timothy—with such dramatic language and with such dire exhortations–to preach the word; to reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching? (2 Tim. 4:1-2)

In the end, I believe Dickson’s approach is not only historically and exegetically unconvincing, it is practically unworkable—at least for complementarians. Egalitarians will affirm women preaching for all sorts of reasons. But complementarians who try to thread the needle and argue that “this message on Sunday morning is a sharing not a sermon” or “this woman preaching is under the authority of the session” will find that their arguments for not letting women preach all the time and in any way look exceedingly arbitrary.

At various points, Dickson admits that some preaching today may involve teaching and that the different kinds of speaking in the New Testament probably overlapped.

  • “I am not suggesting that these three forms of speech (teaching, prophesying, and exhorting) are strictly separate or that there is no significant overlap of content and function” (24).
  • “Some contemporary sermons involve something close to authoritatively preserving and laying down the apostolic deposit, but I do not believe this is the typical function of the weekly exposition” (64).
  • “I have no doubt that Timothy added to these apostolic teachings his own appeals, explanations, and applications, but these are not the constitutive or defining elements of teaching. At that point, Timothy would be moving into what is more appropriately called ‘exhortation.’” (65)
  • “I am not creating a hard distinction between teaching and exhorting, but I am observing that, whereas teaching is principally about laying something down in fixed form, exhorting is principally about urging people to obey and apply God’s truth.” (65)
  • “No doubt there was a degree of teaching going on in exhorting and prophesying, just as there was some exhorting (and maybe prophesying) going on in teaching…” (66-67)
  • “I also think that some transmission of the apostolic deposit still goes on in every decent sermon, in some more than others.” (79)

With all these elements of preaching jumbled together, how could Paul have expected Timothy to untangle the ball of yarn and know what he was supposed to not permit women to do? Just as importantly, how are we to discern when a sermon is just exhortation without authority and when it moves into an authoritative transmission of the apostolic deposit? Perhaps it would be better to see “teaching” as more or less what the preacher does on Sunday as opposed to a highly technical term that doesn’t make sense out of the early church, the Jewish synagogue, Jesus’ example, or Paul’s instructions. The heraldic event—no matter the platform provided by the pastor or the covering given by the elders—cannot be separated from exercising authority and teaching, the two things women are not permitted do in the worship service.

Matthew 23/24

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My friend, Pastor Jeff Durbin from Apologia Church in Tempe, AZ is preaching through the Gospel of Matthew and finds himself at Matthew 24 and the Olivet Discourse. While he and I have some disagreements in the realm of eschatology (he being post-millennial and me being an optimistic amillennial in outlook), there is so much great material in these sermons that I felt it was well worth sharing in this format. Many will find that firmly held traditions have no biblical basis and therefore need to be discarded. Even so, learning the truth is more than worth any pain involved. Enjoy!:

The End of the World & Truth

The Great Tribulation – Where, When, Why?

The Great Tribulation and the End of the Age

Jesus and the End of the World

Revelation – A Tale of Two Cities

Does the Bible Contain Errors?

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This excerpt is adapted from R.C. Sproul’s foreword in The Inerrant Word: Biblical, Historical, Theological, and Pastoral Perspectives by John MacArthur

“The Bible is the Word of God, which errs.” From the advent of neoorthodox theology in the early twentieth century, this assertion has become a mantra among those who want to have a high view of Scripture while avoiding the academic liability of asserting biblical infallibility and inerrancy. But this statement represents the classic case of having one’s cake and eating it too. It is the quintessential oxymoron.

Let us look again at this untenable theological formula. If we eliminate the first part, “The Bible is,” we get “The Word of God, which errs.” If we parse it further and scratch out “the Word of” and “which,” we reach the bottom line:

“God errs.”

The idea that God errs in any way, in any place, or in any endeavor is repugnant to the mind as well as the soul. Here, biblical criticism reaches the nadir of biblical vandalism.

How could any sentient creature conceive of a formula that speaks of the Word of God as errant? It would seem obvious that if a book is the Word of God, it does not (indeed, cannot) err. If it errs, then it is not (indeed, cannot be) the Word of God.

To attribute to God any errancy or fallibility is dialectical theology with a vengeance.

Perhaps we can resolve the antinomy by saying that the Bible originates with God’s divine revelation, which carries the mark of his infallible truth, but this revelation is mediated through human authors, who, by virtue of their humanity, taint and corrupt that original revelation by their penchant for error. Errare humanum est (“To err is human”), cried Karl Barth, insisting that by denying error, one is left with a docetic Bible—a Bible that merely “seems” to be human, but is in reality only a product of a phantom humanity.

Who would argue against the human proclivity for error? Indeed, that proclivity is the reason for the biblical concepts of inspiration and divine superintendence of Scripture. Classic orthodox theology has always maintained that the Holy Spirit overcomes human error in producing the biblical text.

Barth said the Bible is the “Word” (verbum) of God, but not the “words” (verba) of God. With this act of theological gymnastics, he hoped to solve the unsolvable dilemma of calling the Bible the Word of God, which errs. If the Bible is errant, then it is a book of human reflection on divine revelation—just another human volume of theology. It may have deep theological insight, but it is not the Word of God.

Critics of inerrancy argue that the doctrine is an invention of seventeenth-century Protestant scholasticism, where reason trumped revelation—which would mean it was not the doctrine of the magisterial Reformers. For example, they note that Martin Luther never used the term inerrancy. That’s correct. What he said was that the Scriptures never err. Neither did John Calvin use the term. He said that the Bible should be received as if we heard its words audibly from the mouth of God. The Reformers, though, not using the term inerrancy, clearly articulated the concept.

Irenaeus lived long before the seventeenth century, as did Augustine, Paul the apostle, and Jesus. These all, among others, clearly taught the absolute truthfulness of Scripture.

The church’s defense of inerrancy rests upon the church’s confidence in the view of Scripture held and taught by Jesus himself. We wish to have a view of Scripture that is neither higher nor lower than his view.

The full trustworthiness of sacred Scripture must be defended in every generation, against every criticism.