The
Five Solas of the Reformation
Part
2 of 6
Sola Scriptura: Our Only Model
II Tim. 3:14-17; I Pet. 4:11
But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them;
And that from a child thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.
All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness:
That the man of God may be perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works.
If any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of God; if any man minister, let him do it as of the ability which God giveth: that God in all things may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom be praise and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.
In the last words that Paul wrote before his martyrdom, he
challenged Timothy concerning the place Scripture must have in his life and
ministry. He made it clear that “wisdom,” and salvation itself, come from
Scripture alone. He went on to say that Scripture alone is profitable (useful, beneficial, advantageous)
for doctrine (teaching), reproof (conviction and punishment and
involves exposing false teaching), correction (setting things right,
bringing them back to where they are supposed to be), and instruction in
righteousness (training in what is right). The result of all that, Paul
concludes, is that Timothy will be perfect (mature) and thoroughly
furnished unto all good works (fully equipped for worship, holy living, and Christian
service).
In the early church, therefore, Scripture was elevated to its rightful position as sole, sufficient authority. It was absolute and ruled unilaterally in all matters. Sadly, however, it was not long that this began to change. One example, which is quite probably the first major departure from Scripture after the apostolic days, was the decision to regard the terms “bishop” and “elder” (or “pastor”) as different positions in the church hierarchy. Now, the incontrovertible fact is that the early church viewed all these terms as referring to one and the same person. This fact is beyond any doubt, as is found in the writings of the Church Fathers, such as early 4th Century scholar Hilary and late 4th Century Roman scholar Jerome, as well as contemporary theologians of Jerome, such as Chrysostom, and in-turn his successors: Pelagius, Theodore of Mopsuestia, and Theodoret. This was changed, however, supposedly to fight heresy. As early as the 2nd Century, “bishops” were elevated over “elders.” Bishops soon became rulers over groups of churches, and some bishops were even elevated over other bishops, and were eventually called cardinals. Ultimately, in the western church (Roman Catholicism), one bishop emerged as supreme over all. Between 313 and 590, the bishop at Rome was considered “first among equals,” but in 590 the Roman bishop was given supremacy over all other bishops. In the strict sense of the term, this bishop (who in 590 was Gregory I) became the first “Pope.” The Papacy then, to prop up their teaching of “apostolic succession,” had to go back through history and arbitrarily choose certain men (several of very questionable character) through whom they could trace the pope back to Peter.
It was, therefore, one early, deliberate, calculated departure from clear Scripture precedent that created the hierarchy of Rome that exists to this day (and sadly even in some protestant denominations). Worse, the result was that this “supreme bishop,” the Pope, became the absolute authority over the church and every member of it. When the Pope speaks ex cathedra (“from the chair”), his declarations are not only equal to Scripture, but are superior to Scripture. Prior to the Reformation, the laity was forbidden even to read Scripture. All interpretation was in the hands of the Pope and other officers of the Church. The official Catholic interpretation of Scripture was dubbed with the name Magesterium, and it was the church that gave birth to the Scriptures, not the Scripture who bore the Church.
It was the Reformation, however, that met this apostasy head-on and rejected it in its entirety. In July 1519, at the Leipzig Debate with John Eck, when Eck accused Luther of appealing to Scripture alone and not papal authority, Luther responded:
A simple layman armed with Scripture is to be believed above a pope or a council without it. . . . [N]either the Church nor the pope can establish articles of faith. These must come from Scripture. For the sake of Scripture we should reject pope and councils.
In October 1520 came a papal bull (Latin, for “seal,” as in a seal an official document) condemning Luther and his writings and demanded that he recant. Luther defiantly refused; instead of burning his own writings, he publicly burned the papal bull, saying that the bull condemned Christ Himself. What a scene!
It was then in April 1521 that Luther was summoned to the final showdown at the Diet (assembly) in the city Worms. The Roman Church requested that Emperor Charles V, himself a Roman Catholic, deal with the case of Luther, which he agreed to do. On that fateful day, the crowd that gathered was enormous, so huge, in fact, that it was difficult for Luther and his supporters to even reach the conference hall. Besides the Emperor, there were 206 high ranking officials, including dukes, archbishops, bishops, ambassadors, and papal nuncios. The diet began on April 17 with the brilliant Johann von Eck serving as the presiding officer. He asked Luther pointedly if he was the author of the numerous writings that had been placed on a table in the conference hall and asked if he was willing to retract the doctrines in them that contradicted the accepted doctrines of the Church. Luther admitted he was the author but asked for some time for reflection before answering the other charge. After all, Luther knew that his answer might very well cost him his life, and we can only imagine the pressure he felt. After a night of much prayer, Luther was asked again in the crowded hall if he was willing to retract his teachings. To this he replied the now famous words:
Unless I am convinced by Scripture and plain reason—I do not accept the authority of popes and councils, for they have contradicted each other—my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and I will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. Here I stand; I cannot do otherwise. God help me. Amen.[1]
The hall exploded in uproar, with everyone speaking at once. The Emperor was enraged and left the hall, later saying that “he could not see how a single monk could be right and the testimony of a thousand years of Christendom wrong.”
Do we not hear similar words today? We hear, “That’s the way we’ve always done it,” or, “That’s what I was taught,” or, “That’s the tradition of our denomination.” As in Luther’s day, there is much in the Church today that not only is not based on Scripture, but much of which even contradicts Scripture. In my humble view, in fact, the key to Luther’s statement is that to go against a conscience that is “captive to the Word of God . . . is neither right nor safe,” for that is precisely what is happening today. The church is simply not captive to Scripture, not driven by God’s Word alone.
What, then, is the church guided by instead? In the final analysis, every aspect of the church today is driven by popular culture. Instead of pointing people to God’s Word alone for answers to life problems, they are given “therapeutic counseling” to make them feel better about themselves in their world. Instead of giving people the biblical Gospel of sin, salvation, and service, we appeal to their felt needs so they will feel comfortable. Instead of preaching the pure truth of Scripture, we entertain the MTV generation so it will enjoy coming to church. Everything today, from Bibles, to church programs, to tee shirts, is marketed using a pretty wrapper that appeals to what people want, that is, to the flesh. We submit again, it is culture that rules the Church not Scripture. Thankfully, some in the church are seeing the problem. One writes, for example:
. . . sola Scriptura meant that the Word of God was sufficient. Although Rome believed it was infallible, the official theology was shaped more by the insights of Plato and Aristotle than by Scripture. Similarly today, psychology threatens to reshape the understanding of the self, as even in the evangelical pulpit sin becomes "addiction"; the Fall as an event is replaced with one's "victim" status; salvation is increasingly communicated as mental health, peace of mind, and self-esteem, and my personal happiness and self-fulfillment are center-stage rather than God's holiness and mercy, justice and love, glory and compassion. Does the Bible define the human problem and its solution? Or when we really want facts, do we turn somewhere else, to a modern secular authority who will really carry weight in my sermon? Of course, the Bible will be cited to bolster the argument. Political ideology, sociology, marketing, and other secular "authorities" must never be allowed priority in answering questions the Bible addresses. That is, in part, what this affirmation means, and evangelicals today seem as confused on this point as was the medieval church.[2]
Indeed, we are as confused today as in the days of Reformation. Sadly, however, such comments are in the minority. Gone is the Reformation principle of sola Scriptura—Scripture alone. So central was this, that it has been called the “formal principle” of the Reformation. By “formal” is meant that this principle is the authority that forms and shapes the entire movement from beginning to end. Scripture alone, then, gave form to everything involved in the Reformation. Without that, there could be no form, no content, and no truth because all of those demand an authority. Without authority, there can be nothing else.
The purpose of sola scriptura, then, was to reposition the Bible as the final authority over the Church. That is why we deal with it first. Without it, the other “solas” are meaningless because they have no foundation or authority. While Roman Catholicism had elevated the Church and the Pope over Scripture and therefore made the Scripture inferior to the Church, the Reformers (Luther, Zwingli, Calvin, and others) reaffirmed the authority of Scripture. To them Scripture was the norma normans (determining norm) not a norma normata (determined norm). Scripture is not determined by anyone; rather it is the “The Determiner.”
Many Scriptures proclaim the centrality and sufficiency of Scripture. In addition to our text (II Tim. 3:14-17), we read:
Deuteronomy 4:2: Ye shall not add unto the word which I command you, neither shall ye diminish ought from it, that ye may keep the commandments of the LORD your God which I command you.
Psalm 19:7: The law of the LORD is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the LORD is sure, making wise the simple.
Hebrews 1:2: [God] in these last days spoken unto us by his Son.
Revelation 22:18-19: For I testify unto every man that heareth the words of the prophecy of this book, If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book: And if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and from the things which are written in this book.
One term used in the Bible, however, is especially fascinating and pivotal. It is the term oracles of God, which appears three times in Scripture: Romans 3:1-2; Hebrews 5:12; and I Peter 4:11, which is of the greatest significance:
If any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of God; if any man minister, let him do it as of the ability which God giveth: that God in all things may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom be praise and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.
Throughout the ages, men have tried to divine the future. Examining the entails of animals, interpreting dreams, gazing at crystals, observing the movements of fish in a tank, snakes in a pit, and the stars and planets in the sky have all been used to try to divine the future. During the Shang dynasty in China, shoulder blades of oxen and bottom shells of tortoises were inscribed and heated. A message was then derived from the cracks formed by the heating.
One of the more interesting methods of divination was that of listening to and watching the movement of birds. In Rome, public officials called “augurs” (Latin for “bird”) would listen to birds to decide whether or not an official ceremony should proceed. Others would watch the flight of birds, deducing meaning from what direction the birds went. Our English word “auspices” in fact, comes from the Latin auspicium, which comes from auspex, “bird seer.” So when we speak of an “auspicious” occasion, we are actually speaking of an occasion that is favorable because the birds say it is.
If such things sound foolish, what can we say of modern oracles, such as reading palms and tea leaves, consulting horoscopes, interpreting dreams, practicing religious rituals, following man’s rationale, and accepting the pronouncements of a Pope or councils? Why do men do such things? Because they have abandoned the Word of God.
Like the Romans, the Greeks had their pagan oracles, which they referred to using the Greek words manteion and creoterion. This is not the word Peter uses, however. He uses the Greek logion, which comes from logos, “word” (Lk. 5:1; Jn. 17:6; Acts 4:29, 31; 8:14; Col. 1:25; I Thes. 2:13; Tit. 1:3; Heb. 13:7; etc.). Used in this way, logos speaks of the utterance of God. Think of it! It is His very utterances that God has committed to men. Through our Bibles, we hold in our hands the very words of the same God who spoke other words to call the universe into eixistence.
Sadly, some translators criticize the translation of logion as “oracles,” saying that even though this is a legitimate translation, it seems unsuitable here. The NIV translators, for example, render this as “the very words of God.” They argue that since “oracles” refers to pagan religions and rites, then this was the furthest thing from Paul’s mind. (Other modern translations also are incorrect: BBE, NLT, ISV, Phillips, the Message, NCV, NET, NRSV, TEV, TLB.) We would submit, however, that the KJV translators knew more than the critics (as did even the translators of the NASB, ESV, and HCSB). This translation much more powerfully demonstrates to the English reader the contrast between men’s oracles and God’s oracles. Roman Catholicism, for example, makes no apology for following the oracles of the pope. Paul’s point, in stark contrast, is that God entrusted His oracles to men and that these oracles are infinitely superior to man’s.
First Peter 4:11, therefore, is a tremendously powerful and significant statement: If any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of God. In other words, if a man has something to say, it had better be the Word of God. Notice that the verse does not say that whatever a Bible teacher or preacher (or Pope, for that matter) says is the oracles of God. On the contrary, the verse declares that whatever a man says must conform to the oracles of God. We have just the opposite today, however. A preacher can get on TV or radio and utter anything about God and most Christians think it is great. “After all,” they say, “he’s talking about Jesus so it must be good.” But the question this verse demands we ask is: do his words really conform to the oracles of God? Is this man really speaking the utterances of God?
Not only does this verse clearly condemn Roman Catholic dogma, but it also speaks directly to Evangelicalism today, which is driven more and more by pop culture, each person’s individual feelings and “felt needs,” as well as those who claim new revelation through visions and inner urges. Likewise, many preachers, teachers, and leaders today are saying many things, but many of them simply do not conform to the oracles of God. Their words do not come from Scripture.
If I may be bold and blunt for a moment, if a man is not going to minister and preach according to the oracles or God, then he should just keep his mouth shut, and most certainly get out of the pulpit. Our sole authority is the oracles of God, nothing less, nothing more. In other words, as Paul told Timothy, the only thing we should be doing is preaching the Word, as declared in II Timothy 4:1-4:
I charge thee therefore before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge the quick and the dead at his appearing and his kingdom; Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and doctrine. For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables.
If there was, in fact, one thing that the Reformers returned to, it was biblical, expository preaching. Prior to the Reformation, this had vanished from the church, and it has all but vanished in our day, having been replaced by topical, issue-oriented, political, and psychological sermons that accomplish nothing spiritual, much less anything eternal. The popular notion of our day, as mega-church guru Rick Warren has clearly stated it, “The ground we have in common with unbelievers is not the Bible, but our common needs, hurts, and interests as human beings. You cannot start with a text.”[3] Such a statement is almost beyond belief!
The Reformers, in contrast, were totally committed to the text and its exposition. Luther, for example, often preached four times on Sundays and left behind some 2,300 sermons. In direct contrast to the devaluation of preaching in the Roman Church, Luther’s preaching, as well as all Reformation preaching, was instructive, expository, and built on the text alone. “My best craft,” Luther said, “is to give the Scripture with its plain meaning; for the plain meaning is learning and life.”
The pulpit was the absolute heart of Calvin’s ministry. During his four years in Strasbourg, he preached almost everyday and twice on the Lord’s Day. In Geneva, from 1541 until his death in 1564, it was also twice on Sunday, and every other week he preached each weeknight. His Sunday sermons covered the New Testament, his weeknight sermons the Old Testament. Those sermons were recorded by a stenographer and became, along with his other lectures, the basis of his many commentaries. The pulpit truly was the heart of his ministry, as he moved through the Scriptures verse-by-verse, book-by-book, always seeking the natural meaning of the text followed by its application. He also correctly believed that preaching was the primary task of the pastor and was how God educates His people. Commenting in I Peter 4:11, in fact he wrote in his Institutes:
What else is this than to banish all the inventions of the human mind (whatever be the head which may have devised them), that the pure word of God may be taught and learned in the Church of the faithful,—than to discard the decrees, or rather fictions of men (whatever be their rank), that the decrees of God alone may remain steadfast?[4]
If I may quote again, even more powerfully did Calvin write in his commentary of I Peter, which was in-turn was based upon his preaching:
In the meantime, we learn from these words of Peter, that it is not lawful for those who are engaged in teaching to do anything else, but faithfully to deliver to others, as from hand to hand, the doctrine received from God; for he forbids any one to go forth, except he who is instructed in God’s word, and who proclaims infallible oracles as it were from his mouth. He, therefore, leaves no room for human inventions; for he briefly defines the doctrine which ought to be taught in the Church. . . . This was, indeed, commonly the case formerly with false prophets; and we see at this day how arrogantly the Pope and his followers cover with this pretense all their impious traditions. But Peter did not intend to teach pastors such hypocrisy as this, to pretend that they had from God whatever doctrine it pleased them to announce, but, he took an argument from the subject itself, that he might exhort them to sobriety and meekness, to a reverence for God, and to an earnest attention to their work.
Oh, how we need that challenge in our day! If I may quote Calvin one more time, he added in his Institutes, “The ministry of the Word . . . and how far our reverence for it should go, that it may be to us a perpetual token by which to distinguish the church.”[5] In other words, it is our love for and preaching of the Word that demonstrates our true love for God and distinguishes us from Rome.
We would go so far as to submit that Calvin would agree with the statement that a “church” that does not have preaching at the core is not a biblical church. We need to carefully consider that point. There are countless evangelical “churches” today, but if Calvin was right—and according to what the Bible says, he was—then many of those “churches” are not truly churches at all. They are entertaining, they are appealing, they are great social centers, but they are not New Testament churches. Where the Word of God is not exposited as the central ministry, there is no true church.
Huldrych Zwingli, while not of the notoriety of Luther and Calvin, valued preaching even more than they and was inexhaustible in the pulpit. He maintained that preaching is the sign of the true pastor. He said this was so because, as he put it, he submitted to “the tyranny of the book.” He was committed to the Bible as the direct Word of God and practiced the plain, simple exposition of it. It wasn’t popes or councils that should rule the Church in Zwingli’s view, rather the Scripture alone, and he maintained that “preaching is the sign of the true pastor.”[6] Many preachers in the years to come followed his example. Likewise, John Knox was not only a doctrinal preacher but also an incredibly stirring one. He preached daily during his pastorate at Saint Giles, Edinburgh.
We would close, therefore, with this statement on sola Scriptura, as stated in The Cambridge Declaration of the Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals on April 20, 1996:
We reaffirm the inerrant Scripture to be the sole source of written divine revelation, which alone can bind the conscience. The Bible alone teaches all that is necessary for our salvation from sin and is the standard by which all Christian behavior must be measured.
We deny that any creed, council or individual may bind a Christian’s conscience, that the Holy Spirit speaks independently of or contrary to what is set forth in the Bible, or that personal spiritual experience can ever be a vehicle of revelation.
Dear Christian Friend, Scripture alone, then, is the only model, the only form and shape of the Christian faith. It is Scripture alone, which is the Word who became flesh, empowered by the Holy Spirit, that is the sculpture, the artist, the architect of our faith. Scripture alone is the blueprint and owner’s manual that dictates everything about building and maintaining the Church and each of its bricks. To depart from this foundation is to abandon the Christian faith and return to the darkness of Rome. Let us, therefore, say with Luther, “Here I stand; I cannot do otherwise. So help me God.”