I’ve heard it said that the further we get away from the time when Jesus walked the earth, the longer the names of our churches get.
I’d be willing to take that observation a step further and suggest that the further we get from the time of Jesus, the longer the names of our Bibles get and the longer the biblical text itself becomes.
Allow me to explain…
Sitting on my desk this afternoon was a copy of my Greek New Testament. On the cover are simply emblazoned the words ‘Greek New Testament’. Apart from the biblical text itself the only other thing included in the NT is a Greek-English dictionary.
Across the way, resting comfortably on my shelf is my tattered and torn King James Version of the Bible. Maps and a small concordance are the only things, other than the sixty-six books declared canonical by Protestants, which have been added. Adorning the cover are two gold words, ‘Holy Bible’.
Nestled next to my KJV is my battered and now-duct-taped covered Student: Life Application Study Bible. Opening the front cover, one is immediately introduced to a table of contents that is intended to help one navigate their way to the various books of the Bible as well as to quicky and readily find any of the additional ’study materials’ that one might find helpful. Adjoining the table of contents is an editor’s note that explains the difference between a translation and a paraphrase, while at the same time describing the many and varied helps that have been added and how they might be employed. When one gets to the biblical text itself, one finds that it takes up a relatively small portion of the page. The maps, commentary, and blocked application points by contrast take up the majority of the page.
Nestled on a nearby shelf is my John MacArthur Study Bible, which at one point in time was my favorite Bible out of those that I owned. Unlike the New Living Translation, the MacArthur Study Bible promised that its readers would have a solid translation in the NKJV before them and that they likewise would be both “pointed… towards a single destination: God’s unchanging truth,” while at the same time making it possible “to let the [outdated theological] systems go and allow the Word of God to speak.” Like other study Bibles, the MacArthur study Bible has maps, charts, graphs, and plenty of commentary from non-other than John MacArthur himself.
While I appreciate the resources and helps that such a study Bible and commentaries in general afford- I have some concerns about these resources and the path down which they have taken us. I am concerned that the way that study Bibles are structured cause the reader to focus upon the commentary, maps, and application points more than upon the biblical text itself. Having led many Bible studies over the last few years I have witnessed the impact of the study Bible firsthand. Participants quote Scofield or MacArthur or whomever has authored the commentary, yet they cannot make a sound argument based upon Scripture or reason. Because so-and-so has said it- it is ‘gospel truth’.
As we have moved from the age of Gutenberg to the age of Google, what began innocently enough with the study Bible has now manifested itself in the form of YouVersion and WikiBible.be. In YouVersion the biblical text and the commentary shade equal parts of the screen. And with both YouVersion and WikiBible.be people are invited to be part of the commentary process and even to some extent the shaping of the text itself. The interesting aspect of this phenomena, for me, is that anyone can be involved in the process. One can be: reading the Bible for the first time, reject the Bible, be a biblical scholar, or have no biblical knowledge- yet all can contribute equally.
Once again, with respect to both YouVersion and WikiBible.be- it is interesting to see where the emphasis lies. The commentary and explanatory sections, as with the study Bible become the focal point, or at the very least are put on equal footing with the biblical text.
As a Protestant pastor and seminarian who comes from a tradition that has a high view of Scripture and that often asserts that not on jot or tiddle should be added to or subtracted from the biblical text, I find it interesting that many Protestants have in theory stuck to this claim but at a practical level have opened the door to new text(s) which have indeed been added to and included in our Bibles. What is even more interesting is to hear how some of my Protestant colleagues rail against the Catholic and Orthodox churches for adding to the canon of Scripture, when in subtle and supposedly more innocent ways they have done the same thing (only without the help of councils and prayerful debate).
These are just my initial thoughts on this matter. I’m sure that there are things that I haven’t taken into consideration, thoughts that need to be refined, and rebuttals that need to be heard.
With that in mind, what are your thoughts? Do you think Protestants have unknowingly opened the door and in practice canonized extra-biblical works?
A smartly dressed business woman, in her mid-thirties, walks between the smudged glass doors which automatically open in front of her. The smell of burnt coffee mixes, not so pleasantly, with the pungent aroma of cleaning solvents. The hospital’s emergency waiting room is crammed full with the usual blent of snifflers, projectile vomiters, dislocated fingers, and severed limbs.
Briskly, the woman scurries through the waiting room. Without uttering a word, she makes her way toward the “Tower Elevators,” which will permit her access to the floor to which she is headed. Pushing the button rather impatiently, she stands at the door, eagerly waiting for the doors to part and beckon her enter.
Eventually the bell chimes. The doors part. The empty elevator beckons her welcome.
Stepping inside, the woman inadvertently bumps the button which inspires the doors to remain open. Sighing, because she does not want to wait, the woman searches the control panel for the button which will cause the doors to close immediately. Unable to readily locate the button, she pushes “3″- the number of the floor to which she is headed.
After what seems to be an eternity the doors close. The elevator slowly, and with what seems to be a great deal of labor, begins its ascent to the third floor.
The elevator slows.
The doors part.
Immediately in front of the newly opened doors is a sign, indicating that the path which the woman must travel to reach her destination is to the left.
Slowly. Reluctantly. The woman makes her way down the silent corridor. The hum of the florescent lights seems unbearably loud. The walls are barren. The paint is flaking.
A mere three hundred feet from the elevator, the woman reaches her destination. She looks at the door. Gingerly, she reaches for and turns the door knob. Walking into the waiting room, the woman approaches the receptionist and explains her reason for coming. As if unsure of who she was, the woman stutters, as she tells the receptionist, “My name is Jeanette. I have an appointment. I’m here to see Dr. Watters, the oncologist.”
She subsequently assumes her place, in an uncomfortable chair, waiting to be called upon to go back and see the doctor.
As she sits, her mind is filled with questions. Questions that she wants to ask. Questions she is wondering if she should ask. Questions that she wonders if there is an answer to.
The door creaks. A nurse peers out from behind the door, beckoning for Jeanette to follow him to an exam room.
Jeanette follows the nurse. Upon having her height and weight checked, she finds a seat atop the exam table.
She waits.
And she waits.
Finally, Dr. Watters enters the room.
Jeanette, looking with saddened eyes, at Dr. Watters, curtly says, “Just give me the cold, hard facts, doctor.”
For the next hour, Jeanette and Dr. Watters talk about her condition, the treatment options that are available, and the cold, harsh reality of the situation. It is an encounter marked by many questions which receive a thorough and ready answer.
Whether we are at the doctor, sitting in a classroom, defining our responsibilities at work, etc.- we want the “cold, hard facts.” We want the truth. We want a simple, straightforward explanation. If we have questions we expect answers.
When it comes to the Christian faith, we are no different. Whether we are at a Bible study, searching the Scriptures for advice, or listening to the pastor preach- we want answers. We want to know with utmost clarity and certainty things such as: who God is, what God is like, and what God’s will for our lives is.
Some of the things that we wonder about; some of the questions that we ask are able to be answered clearly and with utmost clarity. We can say, for example, that we, as human beings, have been created, according to Scripture, to love the Lord our God with every fiber of our being and that we are to love others as we love ourselves.
Yet, there are some things that defy being adequately explained. For example, someone recently asked me to “explain God” to them. Where does one begin? and, where does one end such an explanation?
I was talking about this challenge that was posed to me, with some others. They suggested that I explain God as being love, since Scripture clearly states that “God is love.” Other suggested that I explain God as omnipotent (all-powerful), omniscient (all-knowing), omnipresent (everywhere). Still others suggested that I explain God according to His “three-in-Oneness.”
As these suggestions were being made, it occurred to me that I should possibly explain God the way Exodus 34.6-7 does- as being slow to anger and abounding in love, forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin; yet not leaving the guilty unpunished. In other words, maybe I should explain the paradoxical aspects of God’s nature and character.
The more that I ponder this enterprise, however, the more convinced I become that no matter what I will say, it will be inadequate. While it is true that God is love; while God is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent; while God is Triune; and while God’s nature and character is bound up in many paradoxes- even if I were to explain each of these things I would still fail to adequately, clearly, and fully explain God.
After all, one of the things that we have forgotten, it seems, in our modern quests to know, categorize, quantify, and explain everything is that there are still many things that are a mystery to us. One such example is God; for, God, while all of the things that I have mentioned (and many more) is something that I failed to mention- INEFFABLE. In short, God defies explanation. He cannot be explained in words. To do so would be to limit God, to confine Him, which would make Him less than God.
Although the life, teachings, and interactions of Jesus serve as the substance for the majority of the historical narrative which have become known as the synoptic gospels by-and-large they have neglected by the church. Taking the Apostle Paul’s assertion in 1 Corinthians 1.23 as their own, the Christian faith, at least in recent years, has become fixated upon the image of “Christ crucified.” Admittedly, the salvific work of Christ is of utmost importance and it should rightly command a great deal of our time and discussion.
However, is the cross of Christ truly the best hermeneutical framework for interpreting and understanding the life and teachings of Jesus. For example, if Jesus is merely concerned with our eternal destinies (which He resolves at the cross for those who believe) then why does he bother to heal the broken and lame? Why does he turn water into wine? Why does he tell parables about parties, wayward sons, mustard seeds, leaven, etc.?
Does the cross of Christ, in other words, provide us with a hermeneutical lens which takes into account the full revelation of Jesus Christ? Or does it as a hermeneutical lens render all that he does before the age of thirty-three as non-consequential?
In your opinion, taking into account your study of Scripture, is “Christ crucified” the best lens for understanding and interpreting the life of Jesus? Or, is there a better hermeneutical lens? If there is- what is it?
Keith Drury has likened the categories of dogma, doctrine, and adiaphora to issues of blood, ink, and pencil, respectively. For me, such a distinction has always been helpful. The issues of dogma are the issues/things for which I would give my life, or at the very least, be willing to get beat up and batters over. They are the issues/things for worthy or martyrdom and imprisonment. The dogma/blood issues are ones such as the incarnation, resurrection, and the Trinity, which I believe are central to the Christian faith.
Doctrinal/Ink issues are those issues which are important, but ate not central to our faith. Like Olsen, I think that the issue of Christ’s presence in the Eucharist, while important, is not necessarily an issue which is central to our faith. It is not an issue to casually or unadvisedly be set aside, but i’m not willingto die over consubstantiation or transubstantiation. Other such issues, I think, would be the gifts of the Spirit, atonement theories, and the like.
Adiaphora/Pencil issues are the fascinating, but oftentimes, rather foolish issues over which so many people end up arguing. Issues of whether God can create a rock so big that He cannot move it, how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, the actual skintone of Jesus, etc. are all interesting questions- however, they have little, if any impact, on Christian belief or practice.
My question to you is: How do you determine what goes into each of these categories?
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