The Human Writers of the Old Testament, Part 1 (E.J.Young)

Dr. Edward J. Young is considered one of the ablest conservative scholars in the field of Old Testament. He served for many years as Professor of Old Testament at Westminster Theological Seminary, Philadelphia. At a time when the historical-critical method to the study of the Bible was gaining ground, Young (like Warfield) stood firm on the divine inspiration of Scripture and its full inerrancy. In all his works, this fundamental position is assumed. Thus, his works provide evangelicals with a solid example of how a full-scale commitment to divine inspiration and the inerrancy of Scripture may engage the more critical theories of his day, and needless to say, in ours as well.

I was greatly helped by his treatment on the subject of inspiration as a young Christian. His Thy Word is Truth (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1963), together with the writings of B B Warfield on the same subject, provided me with a firm foundation for all these years of ministry. Whenever I run into difficulty with a commentary which may advocate an unreasonable dependence on the critical theories, Young and Warfield have invariably come to my assistance. Since in the last post we had Warfield on the subject, I thought it appropriate to include Young's contribution here. This is the first of three posts.

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There is one very important factor in the doctrine of inspiration which hitherto has been mentioned only in cursory fashion. That is the human side of the Scriptures. Peter stated expressly that “holy men who were borne along of the Holy Ghost spake.” We have said little about these holy men whom God used in the composition of the Bible. We have simply sought to make it clear, since they themselves also emphasize this fact, that the Scriptures are from God. It is, we have contended, necessary to recognize the Divine origin of the Bible, and the implications of such recognition.

It is likewise necessary and important to do full justice to what the Bible has to say about its human side. This is today the more important because of the constant misrepresentations of this aspect of the doctrine. We are told, for example, that the human writers were mere pen holders whose hands moved under the direction of the Spirit. The historic doctrine is quite frequently parodied as being “static.” The writers wrote as mere automata, so the parody runs, having received what was dictated to them and then placed it in writing. When modern authors proclaim, “We want no mechanical theory of inspiration,” they give one the impression that they believe they are refuting an actual error. As a matter of fact, however, the idea of mechanical dictation is nothing more than a straw man. Recent conservative writers on the subject of inspiration have sought to do justice to the human side of Scripture; they have been far from advocating a mechanical dictation theory.

What shall we say about this word dictation in regard to the doctrine of inspiration? It was a word that Calvin, to take one example, did not hesitate to employ. “Whoever, then,” he says, “wishes to profit in the Scriptures, let him, first of all, lay down this as a settled point, that the Law and the Prophets are not a doctrine delivered according to the will and pleasure of men, but dictated by the Holy Spirit.” [2 Timothy 3:16, translated by William Pringle.]

In speaking in such a vein, Calvin is simply following the thought of the Bible itself. Paul, in writing to the Corinthians, did not hesitate to say, “Which things also we speak, not in the words which man’s wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth; comparing spiritual things with spiritual” (1 Corinthians 2:13). If we were to attempt to bring out more clearly the precise force of the Apostle’s language, we might render, “in words taught of the Spirit.” Paul is saying as patently as he can that the words which he is employing are those which the Spirit has taught him, and this is precisely what Calvin also maintains.

At the same time, although the term dictation in itself is not objectionable and expresses forcefully the Divine origin of the words of the Bible, it is perhaps unwise to use the word today without some qualification. A new connotation has come upon the term which it obviously did not have in the day of Calvin. When we speak of dictation, there immediately comes to mind the thought of the businessman dictating a letter to his stenographer, or the teacher dictating an exercise to her pupils. In both these instances it does not make too great a difference who takes down the dictation. One stenographer can probably do it as well as another, and if one is not available, another can easily be obtained. Likewise, when the teacher dictates a passage to her class, the important thing is that the pupils take down precisely what has been dictated, and do not add to it or subtract from it. The person of the stenographer or of the pupil is in reality a comparatively negligible factor. Such, however, is not the situation with respect to the human writers of the Bible. True enough, the words which they employed were taught them by the Holy Spirit, but it is not the case that it makes no difference who wrote those words. It is not true that Peter might just as well have written the Pauline epistles as the great Apostle himself. It would serve the interests of clarity, therefore, if, in the discussion of this doctrine, we lay stress upon the fact that although the Bible teaches that its very words are from God, it most emphatically does not teach a mechanical dictation view of inspiration.

Men like Turretine, Calvin and others who have written on this subject have been as eager to do justice to the human side of the Bible as have some of the modern rejectors of the Biblical doctrine. It is a sad thing that scholarly men of our day constantly erect a straw man and seek to attack it instead of coming to grips with the Scriptural teaching itself. Those who believe the Bible and who wish to do justice to its teaching are as concerned as anyone to refute the notion that inspiration was a mechanical kind of dictation, that the human writers were mere automata whose personalities were entirely suspended in the writing of the books of the Bible.

Let us then proceed to notice in more detail the emphasis which the Bible places upon these human writers. “How then,” we read, “doth David in spirit call him Lord?” (Matthew 22:43). It is David who calls the Messiah Lord. And there are particular conditions under which he does this. It is while he is in the Spirit that he so speaks. The implication is that there are also times when David is not in the Spirit, when, in other words, he is not inspired. When David spoke of the Messiah as Lord, however, he did so being in the Spirit. David, therefore, is the human author of the utterance; it is his, and it is as a conscious responsible human being that he speaks. At the same time, the conditions under which the Psalmist spoke were not the normal conditions of everyday life; he spoke not as a normal man, but rather under peculiar circumstances; David was in the Spirit.

Of particular interest is the statement, “For David himself said by the Holy Ghost” (Mark 12:36). Very strong is the emphasis that it was the man David who spoke. This emphasis receives additional confirmation and strength from the passage, “And David himself saith in the book of Psalms” (Luke 20:42). Of unusual relevancy is this verse because it attributes the authorship of certain words to the man David. In the place of saying that it was in the Spirit that he spoke, it substitutes the phrase “in the book of Psalms.”

In the words addressed to God “who by the mouth of thy servant David hast said, Why did the heathen rage and the people imagine vain things?” a passage from the second Psalm is attributed to David. It is God who uttered these words; they find their origin in Him; they are His; He, and He alone, is their author. Nevertheless, He spoke them by the mouth of His servant David. David spoke, but God spoke through him. Similar is the statement to the effect that the Lord received the name Jesus in fulfillment of the words which were “spoken of the Lord by the prophet” (Matthew 1:22). The tender and mysterious prophecy of the Virgin was of Divine origin, but God spoke it through the mouth of the prophet.

In referring to the passage about the burning bush which He says is in the “book of Moses,” Christ quotes, “God spake unto him, saying . . .” (Mark 12:26). The words are regarded by Christ as those which God Himself has spoken, but they are to be found in a book written by the man Moses. In another place, however, no reference is made to the human author other than the question “have ye not read?” which implies that the words uttered by God are nevertheless to be found in a book where they can be read (cf. Matthew 22:32). In a similar type of statement the Apostle Paul makes reference to the Old Testament, “Well spake the Holy Ghost by Esaias the prophet unto our fathers, saying . . .” (Acts 28:25, 26a). Paul would here make it clear that the Holy Spirit spoke, yet at the same time it was through the mouth of the individual Isaiah that He gave His utterance. The prophet was the human author of the message, yet the one who was speaking through Isaiah was none other than the Spirit of God Himself.

A careful consideration of the above passages should make it clear that God, in revealing His Word, spoke through the instrumentality of men. In the first place, they were holy men; men who knew and loved their God. This does not mean at all that they were not sinful men; they were sinful, sometimes great sinners. David, for example, had committed sins which few, if any, men would forgive, but David, nevertheless, was one through whom the Spirit spoke. The writers of the Bible were indeed sinners, but they were men who, despite their sins, loved God and were used of Him in the composition of Scripture.

It would be most unjust to the data of Scripture to maintain that God merely looked about to see if here and there He could find a man through whom He might speak to the world. There is nothing in the Bible to support or to sustain this idea; in fact, everything teaches the very opposite. Did it matter, we may ask, through whom the Divine message was spoken? According to the Bible it mattered very greatly. In the first verse of Amos’ rugged prophecy we read, “The words of Amos . . . which he saw.” Only nine short chapters, yet from them we learn something of the man who wrote them. How different they are from the quiet tenderness of Hosea! How unsuited was Amos to have undergone the sad experiences of a Hosea! At the same time, different as each was from the other, each was clearly conscious of speaking forth the words of God.

The same is true when we turn to the pages of the New Testament. Do not the human writers of the New Testament also differ greatly one from another? It would seem that God had chosen specific men to write specific portions of His Word. And such was indeed the case. Not only, however, did the Lord select certain men to write certain portions of His Word but, more than that, they were used as real men. Their personalities were not held in abeyance; their talents were not obscured; they were not somehow placed in a state of suspended animation. Rather, God used them as they were. All their gifts of training and native talent God called into play.

The matter may be very clearly illustrated by the case of the Apostle Paul. God very obviously did not look about to discover if there were somewhere on the face of the earth a man who might be used in the composition of those writings which we now call the Pauline Epistles. There was only one man that could have written those Epistles, and that man was the Apostle himself. The Apostle, however, required training and preparation before he could commit to writing the glorious epistles which now bear his name. His very birth and upbringing in the city of Tarsus were of importance. The instruction which he received at the feet of Gamaliel and his indoctrination into the tenets of the Pharisees served as a background which stood him in good stead throughout the remainder of his life. Not the least of his talents was his ability to use the Greek language both in speaking and preaching. After his conversion he spent three years in Arabia, years, we may well suppose, in which he engaged in study and meditation.

Did all this, however, occur simply through chance? Not at all; it was God who was at work in the events of Paul’s life, shaping him so that he would be precisely the man whom God wanted and whom He needed to write the great epistles. It was a providential preparation; a schooling and training conducted at the hands of God Himself through the ordinary course of His providential working.

Similar was the case with Moses. Here again we note the long years of preparation. In childhood and youth Moses learned of the afflictions of his people in Egypt. He knew well the Egyptian mind, and how to deal with the taskmaster. Then came the period of training in the desert, where, in the stillness of the wasteland, he might mediate and reflect. Thus, through this time, followed by his own participation in the events of the Exodus, Moses came to the place where he was prepared for the task of writing the first five books of the Bible. It is clear that these books represent a unified plan and that they are the work of a great mind. Only a mind such as that of Moses could have composed them. And for this work of writing, Moses, in the providence of God, had been prepared and equipped. How graciously did the Lord deal with His recalcitrant and stubborn servant! How wondrously He led the man on, step by step, until Moses was ready to write.

Very wondrous was God’s providential preparation and equipment of those men whom He had appointed to be the human instruments in the writing of the Scripture. Thus He prepared and raised up an Isaiah, a Jeremiah, a John, and a Paul. His work of providence and His special work of inspiration should be regarded as complementing one another. Those through whom the Spirit desired to give the Scriptures were individuals who had been equipped for the task in the providence of God. When, therefore, the Spirit bore a holy man of old (2 Peter 1:21) it was not any man who happened to be on the scene, but rather, just that holy man whom God, through years of training, had prepared to speak and to write precisely that portion of the Scripture which He desired to have him write.

The Divine and the Human in the Bible (B B Warfield)

Over the past year and a half, I have taught the doctrine of Scripture to four separate groups of students in differing situations and from varying backgrounds and embracing a wide age-range (from the early 20s to the mid-60s). Not once have I been given the opportunity to pass over (cursorily) the issue of the relationship between the divine and human elements in the Scripture. This relation seems to me to be an enduring issue, just as it is with the relation between the sovereignty of God and the responsibility of man (another topic that I am not “permitted” to pass over in my doctrine of God lectures). While attempts have been made, for example, by Jonathan Edwards (using the distinction between moral necessity and moral inability on the one hand, and natural necessity and natural inability on the other) and J I Packer (using the concept of “antinomy” or “unresolved tension” between two seemingly contradictory truths), I have often felt it wise to explain that while we may not understand fully “how” this can be true at the same time, the important thing is to guard both truths without compromise. For if we do not guard them, then, we will fall into error! In this respect, B B Warfield has helpfully provided an article that echoes my concern, and I share it here in the hope that it will be o some benefit to those of us who wish to understand the importance of maintaining both the human and divine elements in the Scripture. This article is taken from Selected Shorter Writings of Benjamin B. Warfield, Volume 1, edited by John E. Meeter (Phillipsburg: Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing Company, 1970). It was first published in the Presbyterian Journal, May 3, 1894.

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There is probably no problem more prominently before the minds of Bible students of today than the one which concerns the relation between the divine and human elements in the Bible. Recent discussion of the authenticity, authorship, integrity, structure of the several Biblical books, has called men’s attention, as possibly it has never before been called, to the human element in the Bible. Even those who were accustomed to look upon their Bible as simply divine, never once thinking of the human agents through whom the divine Spirit spoke, have had their eyes opened to the fact that the Scriptures are human writings, written by men, and bearing the traces of their human origin on their very face. In many minds the questions have become quite pressing: How are the two factors, the divine and the human, to be conceived as related to each other in the act of inspiration? And, how are the two consequent elements in the product, the divine and human, to be conceived to be related to each other in the Scriptures?

It would be a mistake to suppose such questions as these of little practical importance. It is true enough that Christian men are more concerned with the effects of inspiration than with its nature or mode. But men will not rest in their belief in effects which are not congruous with their conception of the nature and mode of inspiration. Inadequate or positively false conceptions of the nature and mode of inspiration are being continually suggested, and wherever they are in any degree accepted, they bring forth their natural fruit in a modified view of the effects of inspiration. Men are continually striving to be rid of the effects which are ascribed to inspiration in the Scriptures and the formularies of the Church, on the plea that inspiration is not to be so conceived as to require these effects. The question of how inspiration is to be conceived having been thus raised, it becomes of very serious importance to go at least so far into it as to exhibit the untenableness of those theories which, when accepted, wholly overthrow the Biblical conception of the effects of inspiration. It is a matter, then, of importance, and not merely of curious interest, to ask, how are the two factors, the divine and human, to be conceived to be related to each other in the act of inspiration? And how are the two consequent elements in the Bible, the divine and human, to be conceived to be related to each other in the product of inspiration?

In the first place, we may be sure that they are not properly conceived when one factor or element is so exaggeratingly emphasized as to exclude the other altogether.

At one time there arose in the Church, under the impulse of zeal to assert and safeguard the divinity of Scripture, a tendency toward so emphasizing the divine element as to exclude the human. The human writers of Scripture were conceived as mere implements in the hands of the Holy Ghost, by which (rather than through whom) he wrote the Scriptures. Men were not content to call the human authors of Scripture merely the penmen, the amanuenses of the Holy Spirit, but represented them as simply his pens. Inspiration, in this view, was conceived as a simple act of dictation; and it was denied that the human writers contributed any quality to the product, unless, indeed, it might be their hand-writing. This, properly so-called, mechanical theory of inspiration was taught by a number of seventeenth century divines, in all Protestant communions alike – by Quenstedt, Calov, Hollaz, among the Lutherans; by Heidegger and Buxtorf, among the Reformed; by Richard Hooker, among the Anglicans; and by John White among the Puritans. The obvious marks of human authorship in the Biblical books, however, prevented it from becoming dominant, in its extreme form. Recognition of these marks of human authorship – as for example, differences in vocabulary, style, and the like – was recognition of a human element in the Bible; and involved so far the substitution of a theory of co-authorship by God and man for the Scriptures, in the place of the strict theory of the sole divine authorship. In this form alone has the theory of dictation persisted in the Church; and in this form it no longer belongs to the class of theories under discussion. Probably no one today so emphasizes the divine element in Scripture as to exclude the human altogether.

The opposite fault, however, is exceedingly common today. Nothing, indeed, is more common than such theories of the origin and nature of the Scriptures as exclude the divine factor and element altogether, and make them purely human in both origin and character. Historically, this mode of thought is an outgrowth of Rationalism; but it takes every form which is required by a change of philosophical basis. A Hegelian, like Dr. Whiton, adapts himself to it as readily as a Deist; a mystic like R. H. Horton as readily as a vulgar Rationalist. The modes of statement given to it are very various, but they all agree in holding the Bible to be a purely human book. They differ only as to whether there has been any divine preparation for the book at all, or if this be allowed, whether this divine preparation included a revelation which men have recorded in this book, or whether it was only gracious or indeed only providential. The book market is flooded at present with treatises teaching this hopelessly one-sided theory. Dr. Washington Gladden’s Who Wrote the Bible? is a very crude instance in point. To him God had the same sort of care over the production of the Bible that he has over the growth of an old apple tree. Dr. John DeWitt’s recent book on What is Inspiration? is another crude instance. According to him the prophet was left to express himself in human language “as well as he could.” A slightly higher conception is taken by T. George Rooke in his Inspiration and Other Lectures; and a higher one still by a recent German writer, Leonard Staehlin, who thinks that God specifically prepared the Biblical writers for their task, but left them, when prepared, to execute their task in a manner so “free” as to be without continued divine guidance. Throughout all these modifications the germinal conception persists that it was man and man alone who made the Bible; and that it is, therefore, a purely human book, although it may contain a human report of divine deeds and words.

We may be equally sure that the relation of the divine and human in inspiration and in the Bible are not properly conceived when they are thought of, as elements in the Bible, as lying over against each other, dividing the Bible between them; or, as factors in inspiration, as striving against and excluding each other, so that where one enters the other is pushed out.

This hopelessly crude conception seems to have become extraordinarily common of recent years. It is this point of view which underlies the remark, now heard very frequently, that the human element in the Bible is coming to be recognized as larger than we had supposed – with the implication that, therefore, the divine element must be acknowledged to be smaller than we had supposed. Even so thoughtful a writer as Dr. Sanday falls into this mode of speech: “The tendency of the last 50 or 100 years of investigation,” he tells us, “is to make it appear that this human element is larger than had been supposed.”1 So, too, Prof. Kirkpatrick says: “In the origin of Scripture there has been a large human element, larger than there was at one time supposed.”2 The underlying conception is that what is human cannot also be divine, and that wherever the human enters there the divine disappears. Thus Dr. Sanday speaks of his thesis as an apparent contention “for an encroachment of the human element upon the divine,” and Dr. G. T. Ladd even speaks of the chief difficulty in the matter being the determination of “the exact place where the divine meets the human and is limited by it.”3

On such a conception it is easy to see that every discovery of a human trait in Scripture is a disproving of the divinity of Scripture. If, then, it be discovered that the whole fabric of the Bible is human – as assuredly is true – men who start with this conception in mind must end with denying of the whole fabric of the Bible that it is divine. As a preliminary stage we shall expect to meet with efforts to go through the Bible and anxiously to separate the divine and human elements. And if these elements are really so related to one another that when one enters the other is pushed out, this task will not seem a hopeless one. We may be warned, as Dr. Sanday does warn us, that it is “a mistake to attempt to draw a hard and fast line between the two elements.” Men will feel that on this conception of their relation to each other, it is a greater mistake not to make such an attempt. How shall we consent to leave confused such very diverse elements? We need not be surprised, therefore, that men like Horton and Gess have made the attempt. Nor need we at least, who perceive the folly of the underlying conception of the mechanical relation of the two elements to each other, feel surprised over the destructive nature of their results. They do not fail to find the human element entering almost everywhere, and therefore the divine element almost nowhere.

Justice is done to neither factor of inspiration and to neither element in the Bible, the human or the divine, by any other conception of the mode of inspiration except that of concursus, or by any other conception of the Bible except that which conceives of it as a divine-human book, in which every word is at once divine and human.

The philosophical basis of this conception is the Christian idea of God as immanent as well as transcendent in the modes of his activity. Its idea of the mode of the divine activity in inspiration is in analogy with the divine modes of activity in other spheres – in providence, and in grace wherein we work out our own salvation with fear and trembling, knowing that it is God who is working in us both the willing and the doing according to his own good pleasure. The Biblical basis of it is found in the constant Scriptural representation of the divine and human co-authorship of the Biblical commandments and enunciations of truth; as well as in the constant Scriptural ascription of Bible passages to both the divine and the human authors, and in the constant Scriptural recognition of Scripture as both divine and human in quality and. character.

The fundamental principle of this conception is that the whole of Scripture is the product of divine activities which enter it, however, not by superseding the activities of the human authors, but confluently with them; so that the Scriptures are the joint product of divine and human activities, both of which penetrate them at every point, working harmoniously together to the production of a writing which is not divine here and human there, but at once divine and human in every part, every word and every particular. According to this conception, therefore, the whole Bible is recognized as human, the free product of human effort, in every part and word. And at the same time, the whole Bible is recognized as divine, the Word of God, his utterances, of which he is in the truest sense the Author.

The human and divine factors in inspiration are conceived of as flowing confluently and harmoniously to the production of a common product. And the two elements are conceived of in the Scriptures as the inseparable constituents of one single and uncompounded product. Of every word of Scripture is it to be affirmed, in turn, that it is God’s word and that it is man’s word. All the qualities of divinity and of humanity are to be sought and may be found in every portion and element of the Scripture. While, on the other hand, no quality inconsistent with either divinity or humanity can be found in any portion or element of Scripture.

On this conception, therefore, for the first time full justice is done to both elements of Scripture. Neither is denied because the other is recognized. And neither is limited to certain portions of Scripture that place may be made for the other, nor is either allowed to encroach upon the other. As full justice is done to the human element as is done by those who deny that there is any divine element in the Bible; for of every word in the Bible, it is asserted that it has been conceived in a human mind and written by a human hand. As full justice is done to the divine element as is done by those who deny that there is any human element in the Bible; for of every word in the Bible it is asserted that it is inspired by God, and has been written under the direct and immediate guidance of the Holy Spirit. And full justice being done to both elements in the Bible, full justice is done also to human needs. “The Bible,” says Dr. Westcott, “is authoritative, for it is the Word of God; it is intelligible, for it is the word of man.” Because it is the word of man in every part and element, it comes home to our hearts. Because it is the word of God in every part and element, it is our constant law and guide.

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1 The Oracles of God, p. 161.
2 The Divine Library of the Old Testament, p. 53.
3 What Is the Bible? p.437.

The Fallibility of MInisters - Part 3 (J C Ryle)

This is the third and final part of "The Fallibility of Ministers" by J C Ryle.

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3. But I pass on to the third lesson from Antioch. That lesson is that there is no doctrine about which we ought to be so jealous as justification by faith without the deeds of the law.

The proof of this lesson stands out most prominently in the passage of Scripture which heads this paper. What one article of faith had the Apostle Peter denied at Antioch? None. What doctrine had he publicly preached that was false? None. What, then had he done? He had done this: After once keeping company with the believing Gentiles as “fellow-heirs and partakers of the promise of Christ in the Gospel” (Ephesians 3:6), he suddenly became shy of them and withdrew himself. He seemed to think they were less holy and acceptable to God than the circumcised Jews. He seemed to imply that the believing Gentiles were in a lower state than they who had kept the ceremonies of the law of Moses. He seemed, in a word, to add something to simple faith as needful to give man an interest in Jesus Christ. He seemed to reply to the questions, “What shall I do to be saved?” not merely, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,” but “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and be circumcised, and keep the ceremonies of the law.”

Such conduct as this the Apostle Paul would not endure for a moment. Nothing so moved him as the idea of adding anything to the Gospel of Christ. “I withstood him,” he says, “to the face.” He not only rebuked him, but he recorded the whole transaction fully, when by inspiration of the Spirit he wrote the Epistle to the Galatians.

I invite special attention to this point. I ask men to observe the remarkable jealousy which the Apostle Paul shows about this doctrine, and to consider the point about which such a stir was made. Let us mark in this passage of Scripture the immense importance of justification by faith without the deeds of the law. Let us learn here what mighty reasons the Reformers of the Church of England had for calling it, in our eleventh Article, “a most wholesome doctrine and very full of comfort.”

(a) This is the doctrine which is essentially necessary to our own personal comfort. No man on Earth is a real child of God and a saved soul till he sees and receives salvation by faith in Christ Jesus. No man on Earth is a real child of God and a saved soul till he sees and receives salvation by faith in Christ Jesus. No man will ever have solid peace and true assurance until he embraces with all his heart the doctrine that “we are accounted righteous before God for the merit of our Lord Jesus Christ, by faith, and not for our own works and deservings.” One reason, I believe, why so many professors in this day are tossed to and fro, enjoy little comfort, and feel little peace is their ignorance on this point. They do not see clearly justification by faith without the deeds of the law.

(b) This is the doctrine which the great enemy of souls hates, and labours to overthrow. He knows that it turned the world upside down at the first beginning of the Gospel in the days of the Apostles. He knows that it turned the world upside down again at the time of the Reformation. He is therefore always tempting men to reject it. He is always trying to seduce churches and ministers to deny or obscure its truth. No wonder that the Council of Trent directed its chief attack against this doctrine and pronounced it accursed and heretical. No wonder that many who think themselves learned in these days denounce the doctrine as theological jargon and say that all “earnest-minded people” are justified by Christ, whether they have faith or not! The plain truth is that the doctrine is all gall and wormwood to unconverted hearts. It just meets the wants of the awakened soul. But the proud, unhumbled man who knows not his own sin and sees not his own weakness cannot receive its truth.

(c) This is the doctrine, the absence of which accounts for half the errors of the Roman Catholic Church. The beginning of half the unscriptural doctrines of popery may be traced up to rejection of justification by faith. No Romish teacher, if he is faithful to his church, can say to an anxious sinner, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved.” He cannot do it without additions and explanations which completely destroy the good news. He dare not give the Gospel medicine without adding something which destroys its efficacy and neutralizes its power. Purgatory, penance, priestly absolution, the intercession of saints, the worship of the Virgin, and many other man-made services of popery all spring from this source. They are all rotten props to support weary consciences. But they are rendered necessary by the denial of justification by faith.

(d) This is the doctrine which is absolutely essential to a minister’s success among his people. Obscurity on this point spoils all. Absence of clear statements about justification will prevent the utmost zeal doing good. There may be much that is pleasing and nice in a minister’s sermons, much about Christ and sacramental union with him, much about self-denial, much about humility, much about charity. But all this will profit little if his trumpet gives an uncertain sound about justification by faith without the deeds of the law.

(e) This is the doctrine which is absolutely essential to the prosperity of a church. No church is really in a healthy state in which this doctrine is not prominently brought forward. A church may have good forms and regularly ordained ministers, and the sacraments properly administered, but a church will not see conversion of souls going on under its pulpits when this doctrine is not plainly preached. Its schools may be found in every parish. Its ecclesiastical buildings may strike the eye all over the land. But there will be no blessing from God on that church unless justification by faith is proclaimed from its pulpits. Sooner or later its candlestick will be taken away.

Why have the churches of Africa and the East fallen to their present state? Had they not bishops? They had. Had they not forms and liturgies? They had. Had they not synods and councils? They had. But they cast away the doctrine of justification by faith. They lost sight of that mighty truth, and so fell.

Why did our own church do so little in the last century, and why did the Independents and Methodists and Baptists do so much more? Was it that their system was better than ours? No. Was it that our church was not so well adapted to meet the wants of lost souls? No. But their ministers preached justification by faith, and our ministers, in too many cases, did not preach the doctrine at all.

Why do so many English people go to dissenting chapels in the present day? Why do we so often see a splendid Gothic parish church as empty of worshippers as a barn in July, and a little plain brick building, called a Meeting House, filled to suffocation? Is it that people in general have any abstract dislike to episcopacy, the prayerbook, the surplice, and the establishment? Not at all! The simple reason is, in the vast majority of cases, that people do not like preaching in which justification by faith is not fully proclaimed. When they cannot hear it in the parish church they will seek it elsewhere. No doubt there are exceptions. No doubt there are places where a long course of neglect has thoroughly disgusted people with the Church of England, so that they will not even hear truth from its ministers. But I believe, as a general rule, when the parish church is empty and the meeting-house full, it will be found on inquiry that there is a cause.

If these things be so, the Apostle Paul might well be jealous for the truth and withstand Peter to the face. He might well maintain that anything ought to be sacrificed rather than endanger the doctrine of justification in the Church of Christ. He saw with a prophetical eye coming things. He left us all an example that we should do well to follow. Whatever we tolerate, let us never allow any injury to be done to that blessed doctrine – that we are justified by faith without the deeds of the law.

Let us always beware of any teaching which either directly or indirectly obscures justification by faith. All religious systems which put anything between the heavy-laden sinner and Jesus Christ the Savior, except simple faith, are dangerous and unscriptural. All systems which make out faith to be anything complicated, anything but a simple, childlike dependence – the hand which receives the soul’s medicine from the physician – are unsafe and poisonous systems. All systems which cast discredit on the simple Protestant doctrine which broke the power of Rome carry about with them a plague-spot and are dangerous to souls.

Baptism is a sacrament ordained by Christ himself, and to be used with reverence and respect by all professing Christians. When it is used rightly, worthily, and with faith, it is capable of being the instrument of mighty blessings to the soul. But when people are taught that all who are baptized are as a matter of course born again, and that all baptized persons should be addressed as “children of God,” I believe their souls are in great danger. Such teaching about baptism appears to me to overthrow the doctrine of justification by faith. They only are children of God who have faith in Christ Jesus. And all men have not faith.

The Lord’s Supper is a sacrament ordained by Christ himself, and intended for the edification and refreshment of true believers. But when the people are taught that all persons ought to come to the Lord’s table, whether they have faith or not; and that all alike receive Christ’s body and blood who receive the bread and wine, I believe their souls are in great danger. Such teaching appears to me to darken the doctrine of justification by faith. No man eats Christ’s body and drinks Christ’s blood except the justified man. And none is justified until he believes.

Membership of the Church of England is a great privilege. No visible church on Earth, in my opinion, offers so many advantages to its members, when rightly administered. But when people are taught that because they are members of the church they are as a matter of course members of Christ, I believe their souls are in great danger. Such teaching appears to me to overthrow the doctrine of justification by faith. They only are joined to Christ who believe. And all men do not believe.

Whenever we hear teaching which obscures or contradicts justification by faith, we may be sure there is a screw loose somewhere. We should watch against such teaching, and be upon our guard.

Conclusion

In conclusion, let me first of all ask everyone who reads this paper to arm himself with a thorough knowledge of the written Word of God. Unless we do this we are at the mercy of any false teacher. We shall not see through the mistakes of an erring Peter. Once let a man get wrong about justification, and he will bid a long farewell to comfort, to peace, to lively hope, to anything like assurance in his Christianity. An error here is a worm at the root.

We shall not be able to imitate the faithfulness of a courageous Paul. An ignorant laity will always be the bane of a church. A Bible-reading laity may save a church from ruin. Let us read the Bible regularly, daily, and with fervent prayer, and become familiar with its contents. Let us receive nothing, believe nothing, follow nothing, which is not in the Bible, nor can be proved by the Bible. Let our rule of faith – our touchstone of all teaching – be the written Word of God.

In the next place, let me recommend every member of the Church of England to make himself acquainted with the Thirty-nine Articles of his own Church. They are to be found at the end of most prayerbooks. They will abundantly repay an attentive reading. They are the true standard by which Churchmanship is to be tried, next to the Bible. They are the test by which Churchmen should prove the teaching of their ministers, if they want to know whether it is “Church teaching” or not. I deeply lament the ignorance of systematic Christianity which prevails among many who attend the services of the Church of England. It would be well if such books as Archbishop Usher’s Body of Divinity were more known and studied than they are. If Dean Nowell’s Catechism had ever been formally accredited as a formulary of the Church of England, many of the heresies of the last twenty years could never have lived for a day. But unhappily many persons really know no more about the true doctrines of their own communion than the heathen or Mahometans. It is useless to expect the laity of the Church of England to be zealous for the maintenance of true doctrine, unless they know what their own church has defined true doctrine to be.

In the next place, let me entreat all who read this paper to be always ready to contend for the faith of Christ, if needful. I recommend no one to foster a controversial spirit. I want no man to be like Goliath, going up and down, saying, “Give me a man to fight with.” Always feeding upon controversy is poor work indeed. It is like feeding upon bones. But I do say that no love of false peace should prevent us striving jealously against false doctrine and seeking to promote true doctrine wherever we possibly can. True Gospel in the pulpit, true Gospel in every Religious Society we support, true Gospel in the books we read, true Gospel in the friends we keep company with – let this be our aim, and never let us be ashamed to let men see that it is so.

In the next place, let me entreat all who read this paper to keep a jealous watch over their own hearts in these controversial times. There is much need of this caution. In the heat of the battle we are apt to forget our own inner man. Victory in argument is not always victory over the world or victory over the devil. Let the meekness of St. Peter in taking a reproof be as much our example as the boldness of St. Paul in reproving. Happy is the Christian who can call the person who rebukes him faithfully a “beloved brother” (2 Peter 3:15). Let us strive to be holy in all manner of conversation, and not least in our tempers. Let us labour to maintain an uninterrupted communion with the Father and with the Son, and to keep up constant habits of private prayer and Bible-reading. Thus we shall be armed for the battle of life and have the sword of the Spirit well fitted to our hand when the day of temptation comes.

In the last place, let me entreat all members of the Church of England who know what real praying is to pray daily for the church to which they belong. Let us pray that the Holy Spirit may be poured out upon it, and that its candlestick may not be taken away. Let us pray for those parishes in which the Gospel is now not preached, that the darkness may pass away and the true light shine in them. Let us pray for those ministers who now neither know nor preach the truth, that God may take away the veil from their hearts and show them a more excellent way. Nothing is impossible. The Apostle Paul was once a persecuting Pharisee; Luther was once an unenlightened monk; Bishop Latimer was once a bigoted Papist; Thomas Scott was once thoroughly opposed to evangelical truth. Nothing, I repeat, is impossible. The Spirit can make clergymen preach that Gospel which they now labour to destroy. Let us therefore be instant in prayer.

I commend the matters contained in this paper to serious attention. Let us ponder them well in our hearts. Let us carry them out in our daily practice. Let us do this, and we shall have learned something from the story of St. Peter at Antioch.

The Fallibility of Ministers - Part 2 (J C Ryle)

This is the second part of the previous post, The Fallibility of Ministers, by J C Ryle.

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2. I now pass on to the second lesson that we learn from Antioch. That lesson is that to keep Gospel truth in the Church is of even greater importance than to keep peace.

I suppose no man knew better the value of peace and unity than the Apostle Paul. He was the Apostle who wrote to the Corinthians about charity. He was the Apostle who said, “Be of the same mind one toward another;” “Be at peace among yourselves;” “Mind the same things;” “The servant of God must not strive.” “There is one body and there is one Spirit, even as you are called in one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism.” He was the Apostle who said, “I become all things to all men, that by all means I may save some” (Romans 12:16; 1 Thessalonians 5:13; Philippians 3:16; Ephesians 4:5; 1 Corinthians 9:22). Yet see how he acts here! He withstands Peter to the face. He publicly rebukes him. He runs the risk of all the consequences that might follow. He takes the chance of everything that might be said by the enemies of the Church at Antioch. Above all, he writes it down for a perpetual memorial, that it never might be forgotten; that wherever the Gospel is preached throughout the world, this public rebuke of an erring Apostle might be known and read of all men.

Now why did he do this? Because he dreaded false doctrine, because he knew that a little leaven leavens the whole lump, because he would teach us that we ought to contend for the truth jealously, and to fear the loss of truth more than the loss of peace.

St. Paul’s example is one we shall do well to remember in the present day. Many people will put up with anything in religion, if they may only have a quiet life. They have a morbid dread of what they call “controversy.” They are filled with a morbid fear of what they style, in a vague way, “party spirit,” though they never define clearly what party spirit is. They are possessed with a morbid desire to keep the peace and make all things smooth and pleasant, even though it be at the expense of truth. So long as they have outward calm, smoothness, stillness, and order, they seem content to give up everything else.

We have no right to expect anything but the pure Gospel of Christ, unmixed and unadulterated – the same Gospel that was taught by the Apostles – to do good to the souls of men.

I believe they would have thought with Ahab that Elijah was a troubler of Israel and would have helped the princes of Judah when they put Jeremiah in prison to stop his mouth. I have no doubt that many of these men of whom I speak would have thought that Paul at Antioch was a very imprudent man and that he went too far!

I believe this is all wrong. We have no right to expect anything but the pure Gospel of Christ, unmixed and unadulterated – the same Gospel that was taught by the Apostles – to do good to the souls of men. I believe that to maintain this pure truth in the Church men should be ready to make any sacrifice, to hazard peace, to risk dissension, to run the chance of division. They should no more tolerate false doctrine than they should tolerate sin. They should withstand any adding to or taking away from the simple message of the Gospel of Christ.

For the truth’s sake our Lord Jesus Christ denounced the Pharisees, though they sat in Moses’ seat and were the appointed and authorized teachers of men. “Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites,” he says, eight times over, in the twenty-third chapter of Matthew. And who shall dare to breathe a suspicion that our Lord was wrong?

For the truth’s sake Paul withstood and blamed Peter, though a brother. Where was the use of unity when pure doctrine was gone? And who shall dare to say he was wrong? For the truth’s sake Athanasius stood out against the world to maintain the pure doctrine about the divinity of Christ and waged a controversy with the great majority of the professing Church. And who shall dare to say he was wrong? For the truth’s sake Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, the English Reformers, counseled Henry VIII and Edward VI to separate from Rome, and to risk the consequences of division. And who shall dare to say that they were wrong?

For the truth’s sake Whitefield and Wesley a hundred years ago denounced the mere barren moral preaching of the clergy of their day and went out into the highways and byways to save souls, knowing well that they would be cast out from the Church’s communion. And who shall dare to say that they were wrong?

Yes! Peace without truth is a false peace; it is the very peace of the devil. Unity without the Gospel is a worthless unity; it is the very unity of Hell. Let us never be ensnared by those who speak kindly of it. Let us remember the words of our Lord Jesus Christ: “Think not that I came to send peace upon Earth. I came not to send peace, but a sword” (Matthew 10:34). Let us remember the praise he gives to one of the Churches in the Revelation: “You cannot bear them who are evil. You have tried them which say they are Apostles, and are not, and have found them liars” (Revelation 2:2). Let us remember the blame he casts upon another: “You allow that woman Jezebel to teach” (Revelation 2:20). Never let us be guilty of sacrificing any portion of truth upon the altar of peace. Let us rather be like the Jews, who, if they found any manuscript copy of the Old Testament Scriptures incorrect in a single letter, burned the whole copy, rather than run the risk of losing one jot or tittle of the Word of God. Let us be content with nothing short of the whole Gospel of Christ.

In what way are we to make practical use of the general principles which I have just laid down? I will give my readers one simple piece of advice. I believe it is advice which deserves serious consideration.

I warn then every one who loves his soul to be very jealous as to the preaching he regularly hears and the place of worship he regularly attends. He who deliberately settles down under any ministry which is positively unsound is a very unwise man. I will never hesitate to speak my mind on this point. I know well that many think it a shocking thing for a man to forsake his parish church. I cannot see with the eyes of such people. I draw a wide distinction between teaching which is defective and teaching which is thoroughly false – between teaching which errs on the negative side and teaching which is positively unscriptural.

But I do believe, if false doctrine is unmistakably preached in a parish church, a parishioner who loves his soul is quite right in not going to that parish church. To hear unscriptural teaching fifty-two Sundays in every year is a serious thing. It is a continual dropping of slow poison into the mind. I think it almost impossible for a man willfully to submit himself to it and not take harm. I see in the New Testament we are plainly told to “prove all things,” and “hold fast that which is good” (1 Thessalonians 5:21). I see in the Book of Proverbs that we are commanded to “cease to hear instruction which causes to err from the paths of knowledge” (Proverbs 19:27). If these words do not justify a man in ceasing to worship at a church, if positively false doctrine is preached in it, I know not what words can.

Does any man mean to tell us that to attend the parish church is absolutely needful to an Englishman’s salvation? If there is such an one, let him speak out and give us his name. Does anyone mean to tell us that going to the parish church will save any man’s soul, if he dies unconverted and ignorant of Christ? If there is such an one, let him speak out and give us his name. Does anyone mean to tell us that going to the parish church will teach a man anything about Christ, or conversion, or faith, or repentance, if these subjects are hardly ever named in the parish church and never properly explained? If there is such an one, let him speak out and give us his name. Does anyone mean to say that a man who repents, believes in Christ, is converted and holy will lose his soul, because he has forsaken his parish church and learned his religion elsewhere? If there is such an one, let him speak out and give us his name. For my part I abhor such monstrous and extravagant ideas. I see not a jot of foundation for them in the Word of God. I trust that the number of those who deliberately hold them is exceedingly small.

There are not a few parishes in England where the religious teaching is little better than Popery. Ought the laity of such parishes to sit still, be content, and take it quietly? They ought not. And why? Because, like St. Paul, they ought to prefer truth to peace.

There are not a few parishes in England where the religious teaching is little better than morality. The distinctive doctrines of Christianity are never clearly proclaimed. Plato, or Seneca, or Confucius, or Socinus could have taught almost as much. Ought the laity in such parishes to sit still, be content, and take it quietly? They ought not. And why? Because, like St. Paul, they ought to prefer truth to peace. False doctrine and heresy are even worse than schism.

I am using strong language in dealing with this part of my subject; I know it. I am trenching on delicate ground; I know it. I am handling matters which are generally let alone, and passed over in silence; I know it. I say what I say from a sense of duty to the Church of which I am a minister. I believe the state of the times, and the position of the laity in some parts of England, require plain speaking. Souls are perishing in many parishes in ignorance. Honest members of the Church of England in many districts are disgusted and perplexed. This is no time for smooth words. I am not ignorant of those magic expressions, “the parochial system, order, division, schism, unity, controversy,” and the like. I know the cramping, silencing influence which they seem to exercise on some minds. I too have considered those expressions calmly and deliberately, and on each of them I am prepared to speak my mind:

(a) The parochial system of England is an admirable thing in theory. Let it only be well administered and worked by truly spiritual ministers, and it is calculated to confer the greatest blessings on the nation. But it is useless to expect attachment to the parish church when the minister of the parish is ignorant of the Gospel or a lover of the world.

It is a plain Scriptural duty to “contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints” (Jude 3). In such a case we must never be surprised if men forsake their parish church and seek truth wherever truth is to be found. If the parochial minister does not preach the Gospel and live the Gospel, the conditions on which he claims the attention of his parishioners are virtually violated, and his claim to be heard is at an end. It is absurd to expect the head of a family to endanger the souls of his children as well as his own for the sake of “parochial order.” There is no mention of parishes in the Bible, and we have no right to require men to live and die in ignorance in order that they may be able to say at last, “I always attended my parish church.”

(b) Divisions and separations are most objectionable in religion. They weaken the cause of true Christianity. They give occasion to the enemies of all godliness to blaspheme. But before we blame people for them, we must be careful that we lay the blame where it is deserved. False doctrine and heresy are even worse than schism. If people separate themselves from teaching which is positively false and unscriptural, they ought to be praised rather than reproved. In such cases separation is a virtue and not a sin. It is easy to make sneering remarks about “itching ears,” and “love of excitement,” but it is not so easy to convince a plain reader of the Bible that it is his duty to hear false doctrine every Sunday, when by a little exertion he can hear truth. The old saying must never be forgotten, “He is the schismatic who causes the schism.”

(c) Unity, quiet, and order among professing Christians are mighty blessings. They give strength, beauty, and efficiency to the cause of Christ. But even gold may be bought too dear. Unity which is obtained by the sacrifice of truth is worth nothing. It is not the unity which pleases God. The Church of Rome boasts loudly of a unity which does not deserve the name. It is unity which is obtained by taking away the Bible from the people, by gagging private judgment, by encouraging ignorance, by forbidding men to think for themselves. Like the exterminating warriors of old, the Church of Rome “makes a solitude and calls it peace.” There is quiet and stillness enough in the grave, but it is not the quiet of health, but of death. It was the false prophets who cried “Peace,” when there was no peace.

(d) Controversy in religion is a hateful thing. It is hard enough to fight the devil, the world, and the flesh without private differences in our own camp. But there is one thing which is even worse than controversy, and that is false doctrine tolerated, allowed, and permitted without protest or molestation. It was controversy that won the battle of Protestant Reformation. If the views that some men hold were correct, it is plain we never ought to have had any Reformation at all! For the sake of peace, we ought to have gone on worshiping the Virgin and bowing down to images and relics to this very day! Away with such trifling! There are times when controversy is not only a duty but a benefit. Give me the mighty thunderstorm rather than the pestilential malaria. The one walks in darkness and poisons us in silence, and we are never safe. The other frightens and alarms for a little season. But it is soon over, and it clears the air. It is a plain Scriptural duty to “contend (Jude 3).

I am quite aware that the things I have said are exceedingly distasteful to many minds. I believe many are content with teaching which is not the whole truth and fancy it will be “all the same” in the end. I am sorry for them. I am convinced that nothing but the whole truth is likely, as a general rule, to do good to souls. I am satisfied that those who willfully put up with anything short of the whole truth will find at last that their souls have received much damage. Three things there are which men never ought to trifle with – a little poison, a little false doctrine, and a little sin.

I am quite aware that when a man expresses such opinions as those I have just brought forward there are many ready to say, “He is no Churchman.” I hear such accusations unmoved. The day of judgment will show who were the true friends of the Church of England and who were not. I have learned in the last thirty-two years that if a clergyman leads a quiet life, lets alone the unconverted part of the world, and preaches so as to offend none and edify none, he will be called by many “a good Churchman.” And I have also learned that if a man studies the Articles and Homilies, labours continually for the conversion of souls, adheres closely to the great principles of the Reformation, bears a faithful testimony against popery, and preaches as Jewell and Latimer used to preach, he will probably be thought a firebrand and “troubler of Israel,” and called no Churchman at all! But I can see plainly that they are not the best Churchmen who talk most loudly about Churchmanship.

I remember that none cried “Treason” so loudly as Athaliah (2 Kings 11:14). Yet she was a traitor herself. I have observed that many who once talked most about Churchmanship have ended by forsaking the Church of England and going over to Rome. Let men say what they will. They are the truest friends of the Church of England who labour most for the preservation of truth.

I lay these things before the readers of this paper and invite their serious attention to them. I charge them never to forget that truth is of more importance to a Church than peace. I ask them to be ready to carry out the principles I have laid down, and to contend zealously, if needs be, for the truth. If we do this we shall have learned something from Antioch.

The Fallibility of Ministers - Part 1 (J C Ryle)

John Charles Ryle (1816-1900) or J C Ryle, is one of my favourite authors. As a young laypreacher, I read his Expository Thoughts on the Gospels with delight. Not only does Ryle write devotionally; he sticks closely to the text and demonstrates his grasp of the meaning of the text through his wide reading. This is especially evident in the volume on the Gospel of John where there are copious notes at the end of each section. To read these series is a lesson in how one ought to read the Bible and how a preacher should go about ordering his sermon! Since then, I have read Holiness (one of the best books on Christian sanctification), Old Paths (on Bible doctrines), Knots United (on difficult doctrines), The Upper Room (devotional), Warnings to the Churches (polemical), Evangelical Leaders of the 18th Century (Church history), and Light From Old Times (Church history).

There are two characteristics of his writings which I admire. The first is his courage. He is never afraid of controversy if he feels that it is necessary to the purity of the Church and the glory of God. Neither is he afraid to engage in polemics within his own tradition, often chiding and correcting his own denomination (the Church of England), especially as the ritualism of the Roman Catholic Church seemed so much more attractive then to his fellow clergymen. Which reminds us, by the way, that recent defections from the Church of England to the Roman Catholic Church is nothing new. Ryle was the first Bishop of Liverpool for many years, and during his tenure more than 300 young men entered the ministry under his great influence. It thus cannot be said that he did not love his own tradition! He loved it enough to fight to preserve its adherence to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. A second characteristic I admire is his simplicity and clarity. He writes in plain, simple, understandable English. It was not something which came naturally to him as a young minister and especially as an Oxford graduate ministering in a village. He had to master the art, as he readily confesses. He had to work at it. He wrote pamphlets (or tracts) to improve on it. He has been called the greatest pamphleteer in his day! Indeed, some of his books are but collections of his pamphlets. This does not mean Ryle’s works are simplistic. He never is because he has drunk deeply from the wells of the great masters of the Scripture, especially the 16th century Reformers and the Puritans. In this respect he has helped me tremendously.

This piece by Ryle comes as a timely reminder to us today, Even though it was written more than a century ago, it addresses a very current issue, namely, the danger of according to God’s servants the honour due God alone. Indeed, the worship of men has been a perpetual temptation and sin of God’s people down through the ages. We can think of the Israelites’ clamour for a king. Then, there was Paul, Peter and Apollos (1 Cor 1:12). It was Paul Yonggi Cho three decades ago. It is now Rick Warren, or John Piper, or whoever you might admire most, or should I say, adore most. It could be your favourite lecturer in seminary or the minister of your Church! Ryle’s piece sets us back on the right track.

As the piece is far too long for a post, I have divided into three parts. This is the first of them.

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But when Peter came to Antioch, I withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed. For before certain Jews came from James, he did eat with the Gentiles: but when they were come, he withdrew and separated himself, fearing them which were of the circumcision. And the other Jews dissembled likewise with him; insomuch that Barnabas also was carried away with their dissimulation. But when I saw that they walked not uprightly according to the truth of the Gospel, I said unto Peter before them all, “If you, being a Jew, live after the manner of Gentiles, and not as do the Jews, why do you compel the Gentiles to live as do the Jews? We who are Jews by nature, and not sinners of the Gentiles, knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Jesus Christ, that we might be justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law: for by the works of the law shall no flesh be justified” (Galatians 2:11-16).

Have we ever considered what the Apostle Peter once did at Antioch? It is a question that deserves serious consideration.

What the Apostle Peter did at Rome we are often told, although we have hardly a jot of authentic information about it. Roman Catholic writers furnish us with many stories about this. Legends, traditions, and fables abound on the subject. But unhappily for these writers, Scripture is utterly silent upon the point. There is nothing in Scripture to show that the Apostle Peter ever was at Rome at all!

But what did the Apostle Peter do at Antioch? This is the point to which I want to direct attention. This is the subject from the passage from the Epistle to the Galatians, which heads this paper. On this point, at any rate, the Scripture speaks clearly and unmistakably.

The six verses of the passages before us are striking on many accounts. They are striking, if we consider the event which they describe: Here is one Apostle rebuking another! They are striking, when we consider who the two men are: Paul the younger rebukes Peter the elder! They are striking, when we remark the occasion: This was no glaring fault, no flagrant sin, at first sight, that Peter had committed! Yet the Apostle Paul says, “I withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed.” He does more than this: He reproves Peter publicly for his error before all the Church at Antioch. He goes even further: He writes an account of the matter, which is now read in two hundred languages all over the world. It is my firm conviction that the Holy Ghost means us to take particular notice of this passage of Scripture. If Christianity had been an invention of man, these things would never have been recorded. An imposter, like Mahomet, would have hushed up the difference between two Apostles. The Spirit of truth has caused these verses to be written for our learning, and we shall do well to take heed to their contents.

There are three great lessons from Antioch which I think we ought to learn from this passage:

1. The first lesson is that great ministers may make great mistakes.

2. The second is that to keep the truth of Christ in his Church is even more important than to keep peace.

3. The third is that there is no doctrine about which we ought to be so jealous as justification by faith without the deeds of the law.

1. The first great lesson we learn from Antioch is that great ministers may make great mistakes.

What clearer proof can we have than that which is set before us in this place? Peter, without doubt, was one of the greatest in the company of the Apostles. He was an old disciple. He was a disciple who had had peculiar advantages and privileges. He had been a constant companion of the Lord Jesus. He had heard the Lord preach, seen the Lord work miracles, enjoyed the benefit of the Lord’s private teaching, been numbered among the Lord’s intimate friends, and gone out and come in with him all the time he ministered upon Earth.

He was the Apostle to whom the keys of the kingdom were given, and by whose hand those keys were first used. He was the first who opened the door of faith to the Jews by preaching to them on the day of Pentecost. He was the first who opened the door of faith to the Gentiles by going to the house of Cornelius and receiving him into the Church. He was the first to rise up in the Council of the fifteenth of Acts and say, “Why do you tempt God by putting a yoke upon the neck of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear?” And yet here this very Peter, this same Apostle, plainly falls into a great mistake. The Apostle Paul tells us, “I withstood him to the face.” He tells us that “he was to be blamed.” He says, “he feared them of the circumcision.” He says of him and his companions that “they walked not uprightly according to the truth of the Gospel.” He speaks of their “dissimulation.” He tells us that by this dissimulation even Barnabas, his old companion in missionary labours, “was carried away.”

What a striking fact this is. This is Simon Peter! This is the third great error of his which the Holy Ghost has thought fit to record! Once we find him trying to keep back our Lord, as far as he could, from the great work of the cross, and severely rebuked. Then we find him denying the Lord three times, and with an oath. Here again we find him endangering the leading truth of Christ’s Gospel. Surely we may say, “Lord, what is man?” The Church of Rome boasts that the Apostle Peter is her founder and first Bishop. Be it so: Grant it for a moment. Let us only remember that of all the Apostles there is not one, excepting, of course Judas Iscariot, of whom we have so many proofs that he was a fallible man. Upon her own showing the Church of Rome was founded by the most fallible of the Apostles.

But it is all meant to teach us that even the Apostles themselves, when not writing under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, were at times liable to err. It is meant to teach us that the best men are weak and fallible so long as they are in the body. Unless the grace of God holds them up, any one of them may go astray at any time. It is very humbling, but it is very true. True Christians are converted, justified, and sanctified. They are living members of Christ, beloved children of God, and heirs of eternal life. They are elect, chosen, called, and kept unto salvation. They have the Spirit. But they are not infallible.

Will not rank and dignity confer infallibility? No, they will not! It matters nothing what a man is called. He may be a Czar, an Emperor, a King, a Prince. He may be a Pope or a Cardinal, an Archbishop or a Bishop, a Dean or an Archdeacon, a Priest or Deacon. He is still a fallible man. Neither the crown, nor the diadem, nor the anointing oil, nor the mitre, nor the imposition of hands can prevent a man making mistakes.

Will not numbers confer infallibility? No, they will not! You may gather together princes by the score, and bishops by the hundred; but, when gathered together, they are still liable to err. You may call them a council or a synod or an assembly or a conference, or what you please. It matters nothing. Their conclusions are still the conclusions of fallible men. Their collective wisdom is still capable of making enormous mistakes. Well says the twenty-first Article of the Church of England, “General councils may err, and sometimes have erred, even in things pertaining unto God.”

The example of the Apostle Peter at Antioch is one that does not stand alone. It is only a parallel of many a case that we find written for our learning in Holy Scripture. Do we not remember Abraham, the father of the faithful, following the advice of Sarah, and taking Hagar for a wife? Do we not remember Aaron, the first high priest, listening to the children of Israel, and making a golden calf? Do we not remember Nathan the prophet telling David to build a temple? Do we not remember Solomon, the wisest of men, allowing his wives to build their high places? Do we not remember Asa, the good king of Judah, seeking not the Lord, but the physicians? Do we not remember Jehoshaphat, the good king, going down to help wicked Ahab? Do we not remember Hezekiah, the good king, receiving the ambassadors of Babylon? Do we not remember Josiah, the last of Judah’s good kings, going forth to fight with Pharaoh? Do we not remember James and John, wanting fire to come down from heaven? These things deserve to be remembered. They were not written without cause. They cry aloud, No infallibility!

And who does not see, when he reads the history of the Church of Christ, repeated proofs that the best of men can err? The early fathers were zealous according to their knowledge and ready to die for Christ. But many of them countenanced monkery, and nearly all sowed the seeds of many superstitions. The Reformers were honoured instruments in the hand of God for reviving the cause of truth on Earth. Yet hardly one of them can be named who did not make some great mistake. Martin Luther held pertinaciously the doctrine of consubstantiation. Melanchthon was often timid and undecided. Calvin permitted Servetus to be burned. Cranmer recanted and fell away for a time from his first faith. Jewell subscribed to popish doctrines for fear of death. Hooper disturbed the Church of England by over scrupulosity about vestments. The Puritans, in after times, denounced toleration as Abaddon and Apollyon. Wesley and Toplady, last century, abused each other in most shameful language. Irving, in our own day, gave way to the delusion of speaking in unknown tongues. All these things speak with a loud voice. They all lift up a beacon to the Church of Christ. They all say, “Cease from man;” “Call no man master;” “Call no man father upon Earth;” “Let no man glory in man;” “He that glories, let him glory in the Lord.” They all cry, No infallibility!

The lesson is one that we all need. We are all naturally inclined to lean upon man whom we can see, rather than upon God whom we cannot see. We naturally love to lean upon the ministers of the visible Church, rather than upon the Lord Jesus Christ, the great Shepherd and Bishop and High Priest, who is invisible. We need to be continually warned and set upon our guard.

I see this tendency to lean on man everywhere. I know no branch of the Protestant Church of Christ which does not require to be cautioned upon the point. It is a snare, for example, to the English Episcopalian to make idols of Bishop Pearson and “the Judicious Hooker.” It is a snare to the Scotch Presbyterian to pin his faith on John Knox, the Covenanters, and Dr. Chalmers. It is a snare to the Methodists in our day to worship the memory of John Wesley. It is a snare to the Independent to see no fault in any opinion of Owen and Doddridge. It is a snare to the Baptist to exaggerate the wisdom of Gill and Fuller and Robert Hall. All these are snares, and into these snares how many fall!

We all naturally love to have a pope of our own. We are far too ready to think that because some great minister or some learned man says a thing – or because our own minister, whom we love, says a thing – it must be right, without examining whether it is in Scripture or not. Most men dislike the trouble of thinking for themselves. They like following a leader. They are like sheep – when one goes over the gap all the rest follow. Here at Antioch even Barnabas was carried away. We can well fancy that good man saying, “An old Apostle, like Peter, surely cannot be wrong. Following him, I cannot err.”

And now let us see what practical lessons we may learn from this part of our subject:

For one thing, let us learn not to put implicit confidence in any man’s opinion, merely because he lived many hundred years ago. Peter was a man who lived in the time of Christ himself, and yet he could err. There are many who talk much in the present day about “the voice of the primitive Church.” They would have us believe that those who lived nearest the time of the Apostles must of course know more about truth than we can. There is no foundation for any such opinion. It is a fact that the most ancient writers in the Church of Christ are often at variance with one another. What are the best of ministers but men – dust, ashes, and clay – men of like passions with ourselves, men exposed to temptations, men liable to weaknesses and infirmities?

It is a fact that they often changed their own minds and retracted their own former opinions. It is a fact that they often wrote foolish and weak things and often showed great ignorance in their explanations of Scripture. It is vain to expect to find them free from mistakes. Infallibility is not to be found in the early fathers, but in the Bible.

For another thing, let us learn not to put implicit confidence in any man’s opinion, merely because of his office as a minister. Peter was one of the very chiefest Apostles, and yet he could err. This is a point on which men have continually gone astray. It is the rock on which the early Church struck. Men soon took up the saying, “Do nothing contrary to the mind of the Bishop.” But what are bishops, priests, and deacons? What are the best of ministers but men – dust, ashes, and clay – men of like passions with ourselves, men exposed to temptations, men liable to weaknesses and infirmities? What saith the Scripture, “Who is Paul and who is Apollos, but ministers by whom you believed, even as the Lord gave to every man?” (1 Corinthians 3:5). Bishops have often driven the truth into the wilderness, and decreed that to be true which was false. The greatest errors have been begun by ministers. Hophni and Phinehas, the sons of the High priest, made religion to be abhorred by the children of Israel. Annas and Caiaphas, though in the direct line of descent from Aaron, crucified the Lord. Arius, that great heresiarch, was a minister. It is absurd to suppose that ordained men cannot go wrong. We should follow them so far as they teach according to the Bible, but no further. We should believe them so long as they can say, “Thus it is written,” “thus saith the Lord;” but further than this we are not to go. Infallibility is not to be found in ordained men, but in the Bible.

For another thing, let us learn not to place implicit confidence in any man’s opinion, merely because of his learning. Peter was a man who had miraculous gifts and could speak with tongues, and yet he could err.

This is a point again on which many go wrong. This is the rock on which men struck in the Middle Ages. Men looked on Thomas Aquinas and Duns Scotus and Peter Lombard and many of their companions as almost inspired. They gave epithets to some of them in token of their admiration. They talked of “the irrefragable” doctor, “the seraphic” doctor, “the incomparable” doctor – and seemed to think that whatever these doctors said must be true!

But what is the most learned of men, if he be not taught by the Holy Ghost? What is the most learned of all divines but a mere fallible child of Adam at his very best? Vast knowledge of books and great ignorance of God’s truth may go side by side. They have done so, they may do so and they will do so in all times. I will engage to say that the two volumes of Robert M’Cheyne’s Memoirs and Sermons have done more positive good to the souls of men than any one folio that Origen or Cyprian ever wrote. I doubt not that the one volume of Pilgrim’s Progress, written by a man who knew hardly any book but his Bible and was ignorant of Greek and Latin, will prove in the last day to have done more for the benefit of the world than all the works of the schoolmen put together.

Learning is a gift that ought not to be despised. It is an evil day when books are not valued in the Church. But it is amazing to observe how vast a man’s intellectual attainments may be, and yet how little he may know of the grace of God. I have no doubt the Authorities of Oxford in the last century knew more of Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, than Wesley, Whitefield, Berridge, or Venn. But they knew little of the Gospel of Christ. Infallibility is not to be found among learned men, but in the Bible.

For another thing, let us take care that we do not place implicit confidence on our own minister’s opinion, however, godly he may be. Peter was a man of mighty grace, and yet he could err. Your minister may be a man of God indeed, and worthy of all honor for his preaching and practice; but do not make a pope of him. Do not place his word side by side with the Word of God. Do not spoil him by flattery. Do not let him suppose he can make no mistakes. Do not lean your whole weight on his opinion, or you may find to your cost that he can err.

It is written of Joash, King of Judah, that he “did that which was right in the sight of the Lord all the days of Jehoiada the priest” (2 Chronicles 24:2). Jehoiada died, and then died the religion of Joash. Just so your minister may die, and then your religion may die too – may change, and your religion may change – may go away, and your religion may go. Oh, be not satisfied with a religion built upon man! Be not content with saying, “I have hope, because my own minister has told me such and such things.” Seek to be able to say, “I have hope, because I find it thus and thus written in the Word of God.” If your peace is to be solid, you must go yourself to the fountain of all truth. If your comforts are to be lasting, you must visit the well of life yourself, and draw fresh water for your own soul. Ministers may depart from the faith. The visible Church may be broken up. But he who has the Word of God written in his heart has a foundation beneath his feet which will never fail him. Honor your minister as a faithful ambassador of Christ. Esteem him very highly in love for his work’s sake. But never forget that infallibility is not to be found in godly ministers, but in the Bible.

The things I have mentioned are worth remembering. Let us bear them in mind, and we shall have learned one lesson from Antioch.

Reading the Bible 5 (R Kent Hughes)

This is the fifth and final part of the article “Reading the Bible” taken from the ESV Study Bible. This was written by R Kent Hughes.

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Reading the Bible for Preaching and Public Worship
The Bible, as holy Scripture, is the only certain source of God’s words in the entire world. Paul’s statement that “All Scripture is breathed out by God” (2 Tim. 3:16; see note) means that all the words of the Bible are God’s words to us. Therefore if we want to hear our Creator and Lord speaking to us, we must continually give attention to the authoritative words of the Bible. This means that the Bible must be the only true foundation and constant guide for all that we do in the life of the church, and the Bible must be central to all that happens in preaching and public worship.

Moses and Jesus confirm how God’s people are to regard his holy Word. On the very day that Moses completed the writing of the Book of the Law, he directed that it be placed beside the ark (Deut. 31:26), sang his final song (the great Song of Moses; Deut. 31:30–32:43), and then declared that “it is no empty word for you, but your very life” (Deut. 32:47). Moses’ declaration set the standard for the primacy and sufficiency of God’s Word (cf. Psalms 19; 119). A millennium and a half later Jesus, the second Moses, after defeat¬ing Satan with three deft quotations from Deuteronomy, declared, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matt. 4:4). The Scriptures were life to Moses and food to Jesus; as such they together establish the ideal for God’s people and directly inform the Bible’s use in preaching and public worship. Jesus’ dependence on the sufficiency and potency of God’s Word raised the standard high for all apostolic and post-apostolic preaching and worship.

The Bible’s Use in Preaching
When the apostle Paul instructs his younger colleague Timothy in the conduct of public worship, he places the Bible at its very center: “Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching. . . . Practice these things, immerse yourself in them” (1 Tim. 4:13, 15). Paul’s direction was: read the Word; preach the Word! (Cf. 2 Tim. 4:2.) The early church sought to follow Paul’s exhortation. Justin Martyr, writing c. a.d. 150–155, describes a typical Lord’s Day: “On the day called Sunday, all who live in cities or in the country gather together in one place, and the memoirs of the apostles and the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits; then, when the reader has finished, the president speaks, instructing and exhorting the people to imitate these good things” (First Apology 1.67). In other words, the practice of these earliest churches was that the Scripture was to be read, and then preaching was to be based on that reading of the Word.

From the text. Paul directs Timothy, “Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth” (2 Tim. 2:15). “Rightly handling” is a compound word in Greek, in which the first part comes from the Greek word orthos—“straight.” The exact charge to Timothy is to impart the word of truth without deviation and without dilution—to get it straight and give it straight! The preacher must preach the text, not the idea that brought him to the text. He must stand behind the Bible, not in front of it. He must preach what the passage says, not what he wants it to say.

Good preaching requires prayerfully interpreting the text in its context. This involves using the established rules of interpretation; understanding the text’s application both in its historical setting and in the whole of Scripture; discerning how it is a revelation of Jesus Christ and making the appropriate biblical connections; taking the trip from Jerusalem to one’s own town and coming to see its present relevance; articulating the theme of the text; using stories and illustrations which truly illuminate the text; and employing language that actually communicates in today’s culture.

From the heart. However, the proper use of the Bible in preaching requires more than good hermeneutics and homiletics; it also requires a heart that has been softened and prepared and sanctified by the Word that is to be preached. The Puritan William Ames (1576–1633) expressed it well:

"Next to the evidence of truth, and the will of God drawn out of the Scriptures, nothing makes a sermon more to pierce, than when it comes out of the inward affection of the heart without any affectation. To this purpose it is very profitable, if besides the daily practice of piety we use serious meditation and fervent prayer to work those things upon our own hearts, which we would persuade others of."

Every appropriation of the truth preached will strengthen the preacher for preaching. Every act of repentance occasioned in his soul by the Word he now preaches will give conviction to his voice.

Jonathan Edwards’s Treatise Concerning the Religious Affections (1746) has provided the best explanation of what must take place within the preacher. By “affections” Edwards meant one’s heart, one’s inclinations, and one’s will. As Edwards said, “true religion consists in a great measure in vigorous and lively actings and the inclination and will of the soul, or the fervent exercises of the heart.” Edwards demonstrates from a cascade of Scriptures that real Christianity so impacts the affections that it shapes one’s fears, hopes, loves, hatreds, desires, joys, sorrows, gratitudes, compassions, and zeals.

This is what should routinely happen to the preacher: the message should work its way through his whole intellectual and moral being as he prepares for and practices the proclamation of God’s Word. When the message has affected him deeply, then he is ready to preach. Sermon preparation is twenty hours of prayer. It is humble, holy, critical thinking. It is repeatedly asking the Holy Spirit for insight. It is the word penetrating into the depths of the preacher’s own soul. It is ongoing repentance. It is utter dependence. It is a singing heart.

The Bible’s Use in Public Worship
God’s Word deserves great reverence from his people. Isaiah writes, “But this is the one to whom I will look: he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at my word” (Isa. 66:2). Therefore when Scripture is read aloud in a worship service, the reader and the congregation should take care to convey the reverent attention that Scripture deserves.

From its earliest days the church gave primacy to the reading of Holy Scripture, as seen in the apostle Paul’s aforementioned charge to Timothy to devote himself to “the public reading of Scripture,” as well as Justin Martyr’s account of the apostolic church’s practice of reading “the memoirs of the apostles and writings of the prophets . . . as long as time permits.” The regular custom soon was to have two extended public readings, one from the OT and one from the NT.

Reading of Scripture. Every Bible-believing church must give preeminence to Scripture in its public services of worship. This means that the Scripture to be expounded should be read aloud, and should be set forth in its full context. After all, the reading of God’s Word is the one place where we can be sure that we are hearing God. Responsive readings can be beneficial because they involve the congregation in voicing the sacred text.

There is substantial wisdom in keeping to the apostolic church’s custom of reading passages from the OT and NT in pairs, as it were, because this practice weekly reaffirms the continuity of the two Testaments, encourages biblical theology, and counters the tendencies of many today to pit the two Testaments against each other. It also substantially contributes to the service as a service of the Word in its unity and fullness.

Congregational response to the reading with a hearty “Amen!” or the time-honored “Thanks be to God” can further elevate the corporate assent to the centrality and authority of God’s Word. Jerome said of the congregational “Amen” in his day that at times it “seemed like a crack of thunder.” How glorious and how good for the soul!

Of course, such attention to God’s Word can also prove ineffective if the reading itself is left to a last-minute assignment, such that the reader fails to prepare mentally and spiritually for what he or she is required to do. All of us have heard the Scripture abused by a reader who hasn’t the faintest idea of the meaning of what he is reading, or by reading too fast, or mispronouncing common words, or by losing his place. This is not to suggest that the Scripture is to be read as dramatically as possible or performed as a reader’s theater. But how God-honoring it is to read God’s Word well, with a prayerful spirit. Pastors and readers can serve their congregations well by prayerfully reading the text a dozen times with pencil in hand before reading it to God’s people.

A service of the Word. The Bible’s use in preaching and public worship should be in such a way as to result in a Christ-exalting service of the Word. This requires work by the preacher and the leaders of the congregation, so that God’s Word is read to his glory, the sermon is derived from the faithful exposition of the text reading, and the reading and preaching of the biblical passage is set in the context of songs and hymns and programs that are redolent with the substance of God’s holy Word.

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This selection is from the ESV Study Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV ®) Copyright © 2008 by Crossway Bibles a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Illinois 60187, U.S.A. All rights reserved.

Reading the Bible 4 (David Powlison)

This is the fourth part of the article “Reading the Bible” taken from the ESV Study Bible. This was written by David Powlison.

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Reading the Bible for Personal Application
It is a marvel how personally the Bible applies. The words pointedly address the concerns of long-ago people in faraway places, facing specific problems, many of which no longer exist. They had no difficulty seeing the application. Much of what they read was personal application to actual situations they were facing. But nothing in the Bible was written directly to you or specifically about what you face. We are reading someone else’s mail. Yet the Bible repeatedly affirms that these words are also written for us: “Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction” (Rom. 15:4; cf. Deut. 29:29; 1 Cor. 10:11; 2 Tim. 3:15–17). Application today discovers ways in which the Spirit reapplies Scripture in a timely fashion.

Furthermore, the Bible is primarily about God, not you. The essential subject matter is the triune Redeemer Lord, culminating in Jesus Christ. When Jesus “opened their minds to understand the Scriptures” (Luke 24:45), he showed how everything written—creation, promises, commands, history, sacrificial system, psalms, proverbs—reveals him. We are reading someone else’s biography. Yet that very story demonstrates how he includes us within his story. Jesus is the Word of God applied, all-wisdom embodied. As his disciples, we learn to similarly apply the Bible, growing up into his image. Application today experiences how the Spirit “rescripts” our lives by teaching us who God is and what he is doing.

“Personal application” proves wise when you reckon with these marvels. The Bible was written to others—but speaks to you. The Bible is about God—but draws you in. Your challenge is always to reapply Scripture afresh, because God’s purpose is always to rescript your life. How can you expand your wisdom in personal application? The following four ways are suggested.

1. Consolidate What You Have Already Learned
Assuming that you have listened well to some parts of the Bible, consider these personal questions. What chunk of Scripture has made the most difference in your life? What verse or passage have you turned to most frequently? What makes these exact words frequently and immediately relevant? Your answer will likely embody four foundational truths about how to read the Bible for wise application.

First, this passage becomes your own because you listen. You remember what God says. He is saying this to you. You need these words. This promise, revelation, or command must be true. You must act on this call to faith and love. When you forget, you drift, stray, and flounder. When you remember and put it to work, bright truth rearranges your life. The foundation of application is always attentive listening to what God says.

Second, the passage and your life become fused. It is not simply a passage in the Bible. A specific word from God connects to some pointed struggle inside you and around you. These inner and outer troubles express your experience of the dual evil that plagues every human heart: sin and confusion from within; trouble and beguilement from without (1 Kings 8:37–39; Eccles. 9:3). But something God says invades your darkness with his light. He meets your actual need with his actual mercies. Your life and God’s words meet. Application depends on honesty about where you need help. Your kind of trouble is everywhere in the Bible.

Third, your appropriation of this passage reveals how God himself does the applying. He meets you before you meet him. The passage arrested you. God arranged your struggle with sin and suffering so that you would need this exact help. Without God’s initiative (“I will write it on their hearts,” Jer. 31:33) you would never make the connection. The Spirit chose to rewrite your inner script, pouring God’s love into your heart, inviting you to live in a new reality. He awakens your sense of need, gives you ears to hear, and freely gives necessary wisdom. Application is a gift, because wisdom is a gift.

Fourth, the application of beloved passages is usually quite straightforward. God states something in general terms. You insert your relevant particulars. For example:

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Ps. 23:4). What troubles are you facing? Who is with you?

“All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all” (Isa. 53:6). What is your particular way of straying? How does the Lamb of God connect with your situation?

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God” (Phil. 4:6). With what are you obsessed? What promises anchor your plea for help (Phil. 4:5, 7–9)?

Such words speak to common human experiences. A passage becomes personal when your details participate in what is said. The gap across centuries and between cultures seems almost to disappear. Your God is a very present help in trouble—this trouble. Application occurs in specifics.

2. Look for the Directly Applicable Passages
How do you widen your scope of application? Keep your eye out for straightforward passages. Typically they generalize or summarize in some manner, inviting personal appropriation. Consider the core promises of God, the joys and sorrows of many psalms, the moral divide in many proverbs, the call of many commands, the summary comment that interprets a story. As examples of the first, Exodus 34:6–7; Numbers 6:24–26; and Deuteronomy 31:6 state foundational promises that are repeatedly and variously applied throughout the rest of Scripture. Pay attention to how subsequent scriptures specifically reapply these statements, and to how the entire Bible illustrates them. Make such promises part of your repertoire of well-pondered truth. They are important for a reason. Get a feel for how these words come to a point in Jesus Christ and can rescript every life, including yours.

Consider how generalization occurs. In narratives, details make the story come to life. But psalms and proverbs adopt the opposite strategy. They intentionally flatten out specific references, so anyone can identify. David was troubled when he wrote Psalm 25—his emotions are clearly felt. But he left his own story at the door: “For your name’s sake, O Lord, pardon my guilt, for it is great. . . . Consider my affliction and my trouble, and forgive all my sins” (Ps. 25:11, 18). He gives no details. We are given a template flexible enough to embrace any one of us. As you reapply, your sins and sufferings make Psalm 25 come to life as it leads you to mercy.

In matters of obedience, the Bible often proclaims a general truth without mentioning any of the multitude of possible applications. When Jesus says, “You cannot serve God and money” (Luke 16:13), he leaves you to puzzle out the forms of money-worship particular to your personality and your culture. In such cases, the Bible speaks in large categories, addressing many different experiences, circumstances, and actions. Sorting out what it specifically means is far from being mechanical and automatic, but the application process follows a rather direct line.

If you have a favorite Bible passage, it is likely one of these parts of Scripture whose application is relatively direct. But our experience of immediate relevance can skew our expectations for how the rest of God’s revelation applies to our lives.

3. Recognize the Sorts of Passages where Personal Application Is Less Direct
Here is the core dilemma. Most of the Bible does not speak directly and personally to you. How do you “apply” the stories in Genesis? What about genealogies and census data? Leviticus? The life stories of Esther, Job, Samson, or Paul? The distribution of land and villages in Joshua? The history of Israel’s decline detailed through 1 and 2 Kings? The prophetic woes scorching Moab, Philistia, Egypt, and Babylon, fulfilled so long ago? The ruminations of Ecclesiastes? The Gospel stories showing Jesus in action? The New Testament’s frequent preoccupation with Jew-Gentile relations? The apocalyptic images in the Revelation?

The Bible’s stories, histories, and prophecies—even many of the commands, teachings, promises, and prayers—take thoughtful work in order to reapply with current relevance. If you receive them directly—as if they speak directly to you, about you, with your issues in view—you will misunderstand and misapply Scripture. For example, the angel’s command to Joseph, “take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt” (Matt. 2:13), is not a command to anyone today to buy a ticket to Egypt! Those who attempt to take the entire Bible as if it directly applies today end up distorting the Bible. It becomes an omni-relevant magic book teeming with private messages and meanings. God does not intend that his words function that way.

These passages do apply. But most of the Bible applies differently from the passages tilted toward immediate relevance. What you read applies by extension and analogy, not directly. Less sizzle, but quietly significant. In one sense, such passages apply exactly because they are not about you. Understood rightly, such passages give a changed perspective. They locate you on a bigger stage. They teach you to notice God and other people in their own right. They call you to understand yourself within a story—many stories—bigger than your personal history and immediate concerns. They locate you within a community far wider than your immediate network of relationships. And they remind you that you are always in God’s presence, under his eye, and part of his program.

4. Tackle the Application of Less-direct Passages
Application is a lifelong process, seeking to expand and deepen wisdom. At the simplest level, simply read through the Bible in its larger chunks. The cumulative acquisition of wisdom is hard to quantify. A sense of what truth means and how truth works is overheard as well as heard. But also wrestle to work out the implications of specific passages.

Consider two examples. The first presents an extreme challenge to personal application: a genealogy or census. These are directly irrelevant to your life. Your name is not on the list. The reasons for the list disappeared long ago. You gain nothing by knowing that “Koz fathered Anub, Zobebah, and the clans of Aharhel” (1 Chron. 4:8). But when you learn to listen rightly, such lists intend many good things—and each list has a somewhat different purpose. Among the things taught are these:

• The Lord writes down names in his book of life.
• Families and communities matter to him.
• God is faithful to his promises through long history.
• He enlists his people as troops in the redemptive reconquest of a world gone bad.
• All the promises of God find their “Yes” in Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 1:20).

You “apply” a list of ancient names and numbers by extension, not directly. Your love for God grows surer and more intelligent when you ponder the kind of thing this is, rather than getting lost in the blizzard of names or numbers.

The second example presents a mid-level challenge. Psalms are often among the most directly relevant parts of Scripture. But what do you do when Psalm 21:1 says, “O Lord, in your strength the king rejoices”? The psalm is not talking about you, and it is not you talking—not directly. A train of connected truths apply this psalm to you, leading you out of yourself.

First, David lived and wrote these words, but Jesus Christ most fully lived—is now living, and will finally fulfill—this entire psalm. He is the greatest human king singing this song of deliverance; and he is also the divine Lord whose power delivers. We know from the perspective of NT fulfillment that this psalm is overtly by and about Jesus, not about any particular individual.

Second, you participate in the triumph of your King. You are caught up in all that the psalm describes, because you are in this Christ. So pay attention to his experience, because he includes you.

Third, your participation arises not as a solo individual but in company with countless brothers and sisters. You most directly apply this psalm by joining with fellow believers in a chorus of heartfelt gladness: “O Lord, we will sing and praise your power” (Ps. 21:13). The king’s opening joy in God’s power has become his people’s closing joy.

Finally, figuratively, you are also kingly in Christ. In this sense, Jesus’ experience of deliverance (the entire psalm) does apply to your life. Having walked through the psalm as an expression of the exultant triumph of Christ Jesus himself, you may now make it your experience too. You could even adapt Psalm 21 into the first person, inserting “I/me/my” in place of “the king” and “he/him/his.” It would be blasphemous to do that at first. It is fully proper and your exceeding joy to do this in the end. This is a song in which all heaven will join. As you grasp that your brothers and sisters share this same goal, you will love them and serve their joy more consistently.

God reveals himself and his purposes throughout Scripture. Wise application always starts there.

Conclusion
You started by identifying one passage that speaks persistently, directly, and relevantly into your life. You have seen how both the direct and the indirect passages intend to change you. Learning to wisely apply the harder, less relevant passages has a surprising benefit. Your whole Bible “applies personally.” This Lord is your God; this history is your history; these people are your people; this Savior has brought you in to participate in who he is and what he does. Venture out into the remotest regions of Scripture, seeking to know and love your God better.

Hopefully, you better understand why your most reliable passage so changed your life. Ponder those familiar words once more. You will notice that they also lift you out of self-preoccupation, out of the double evil of sin and misery. God brought his gracious care to you through that passage, and rearranged your life. You love him who first loved you, so you love his other children. And that is how the whole Bible, and each of its parts, applies personally.

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This selection is from the ESV Study Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV ®) Copyright © 2008 by Crossway Bibles a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Illinois 60187, U.S.A. All rights reserved.