Per Christum

A little less than a month ago, David Bennett wrote on this blog these words: “There is no plain meaning of Scripture, as the phrase is commonly understood.” He went on to write:

Maybe it is the postmodern in me, but my contact with Christians of all denominations has convinced me no such thing exists, at least not as popularly understood. If there were a “plain sense” of Scripture, an obviously clear reading that can’t be missed, a reading that is available if one just tries hard enough in humility, the hundreds of denominations that appeal to the “plain meaning” of Scripture would be in agreement. Even in matters of the so-called essentials or salvation issues, denominations appealing to the “plain sense” of Scripture can’t agree (the Calvinist-Arminian debate proves this). Wars could have been avoided, thousands of gallons of ink conserved, and millions of trees saved. Let me put it this way: If I had computer installation instructions that hundreds of different groups interpreted hundreds of different ways, I would question how plain these instructions were. While talking of the “plain meaning” of Scripture may work in theory, in reality, the Bible’s ultimate meaning is anything but clear if the number of denominations is any indication.

I agree with him in his basic point: there is no “plain meaning” in Scripture, as the term is commonly understood. This is an argument that Catholics have been using for centuries since the Reformation: if Sola Scriptura is true, and the Bible can be readily understood by faithful Christians, then why is there so much factionalism within the churches of Protestantism?

Another argument that Catholics have often used is the appeal to antiquity: if the doctrines of Protestantism are the result of the true interpretation of Scripture, then why have no other Christians in history interpreted it like Protestants have? Why, for example, is the Lutheran doctrine of imputed righteousness completely absent from the writings of the Patristic Church?

Thus Thomas More answered a letter from John Bugenhagen in 1526:

The church of Christ has never yet believed what you teach. It has always rejected it, cursed it, destroyed it by fire… If, then, your doctrines are true and confirmed by clear texts in Scripture, you have to admit that the gates of hell have continuously prevailed against God’s scripture. But if, on the
other hand, what you say is true, that the gates of hell have never prevailed against the scripture of God, then you admit that the faith of the church has always been in agreement with God’s scripture.

In opposition to Protestantism, post-Tridentine Catholicism has traditionally emphasized that Scripture be read within the context of Church tradition. Wherever controversies erupted within the precincts of Catholicism, the Magisterium was the final arbiter in matters of faith. This model was the Church’s answer to Protestantism’s emphasis on Sola Scriptura and individual Bible reading.

Unfortunately, this model was also very easy to caricature. Throughout the Protestant colonies of New England, for example, it was widely assumed that Catholics never thought for themselves. That stereotype has also continued up until our own day. To the degree that Catholics have emphasized reliance on the Magisterium and solidarity with the universal Church, Protestants have likewise attacked Catholics as being brainwashed dolts that are too timid to open up a Bible and read it for themselves. Moreover, this argument has also been interpreted by Protestants as an attack upon the Sacred Scriptures of which Paul writes: “All scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.” Our arguments are thus perceived as an attack on the “sufficiency of Scripture,” and therefore upon Scripture itself.

In order to properly present the Catholic teaching on Scripture and Tradition, we Catholics need to avoid these distortions. All too often in apologetic debates, these caricatures are given ample warrant by Catholic polemicists who constantly attack “private judgment.”

We need to frankly admit that everybody uses private judment in their lives. Catholics must use private judgment whenever they consciously submit themselves to authority. We use it whenever we make an argument for Tradition or the Magisterium. Protestants also use private judgment whenever they recognize the scriptures as authoritative documents. In short, to recognize anything as authoritative requires private judgment, no matter what it is.

The Church has historically taught that God can be apprehended by faith only after the rational and personal consideration of philosophical arguments for the existence of God. Moreover, faith in Christ is acquired by the consideration of historical evidence. These considerations are known as the “preambles of faith,” and private judgment and personal use of reason is of course necessary to understand them.

There are many Catholics who make arguments against Sola Scriptura with a line of reasoning somewhat like this: “You cannot know for certain that your own interpretation of the Bible is true, because you are a fallible man and there are many smarter people than you who do not believe as you do.” To which the Protestant will invariably respond: “You cannot know for certain that your Magisterium is true, either.”

The problem with that kind of argumentation is that it sets up an unreasonable demand for absolute epistemological certainty in matters of doctrine. Like Renee Descartes, the Catholic tries to find a strong foundation upon which to build an edifice of knoweledge, but only finds out that he can know nothing with absolute certainty.

Our approach to apologetics should therefore be very cautious in its manner of presentation. There are several important nuances that should not be neglected whenever we propose an argument. For one thing, the Church cannot ensure an absolute epistemological certainty, but only a relative one. It is only within the realm of the Church that we can be sure that our ideas are correct, but it is entirely another matter when we question whether the Church itself is in the right. And even within the precincts of the Church, Catholics are still given a wide range of freedom to develop their own thought. Of course, there exists a certain tension between individual thought and Church teachings, yet this tension exists within Protestantism itself. There are always men who try to push the authority as far as it can go, whether it be Scripture or the Church. And of course, one crucial difference between the two is that the Church can respond of its own accord and deliniate the boundaries of Catholic faith, while Scripture cannot and is latent in the hands of its interpreters.

Moreover, there is another point which Catholics need to make whenever they are presenting their case: the Catholic approach at least works ecclesiologically, if nothing else. On the other hand, Sola Scriptura, as I will show below, cannot keep the church together against the forces of schism which daily threaten it. This brings out another important aspect in our argumentation: criticism from the ecclesiological perspective.

As a corollary to this ecclesiological criticism, any arguments against “biblical perpescuity” should be centered less upon Scripture itself than the status and dispositions of those who read the sacred texts. While “there are some things in them hard to understand” (2 Peter 3:16), nevertheless our arguments are more effective and convincing when we concentrate upon the people and groups who actually try to sit down and read the Bible rather than the Bible itself. The more we concentrate on Sola Scriptura from the ecclesiological angle, the more absurd the doctrine appears to be. There is an additional benefit from placing the study of Sola Scriptura within an ecclesiological perspective: it becomes possible to judge the doctrine on the basis of concrete evidence. We cannot reasonably measure Sola Scriptura as long as it remains an obscure and distant theological principle, but we can gauge its effects within the lives of individual Christians and churches.

From this perspective, the effects of Sola Scriptura are brought out more fully in all their deficiencies. We can see how the Protestant “rule of faith” has split innumerable churches and caused denominationalism as we know it. We can measure how the principle has encouraged the modern “lone vagabond” style of sprituality and church hopping.

I am not saying that it isn’t important for people to point out the historical and biblical arguments against Sola Scriptura. I am merely saying that it is important to not neglect the mass of concrete evidence that we have at our disposal. And that is preferrable to the common method of attacking the Bible’s perpescuity, because it does not risk the danger of making Catholics appear to be unable to read and understand Scripture for themselves.

It is already obvious that Sola Scriptura is an ecclesiological faliure. If we take, as an example, the common Lutheran claim that “imputed righteousness” is the essence of the Gospel, then we find certain insuperable problems for the adherent of Sola Scriptura:

i. This doctrine was virtually never taught until the arrival of the Protestant Reformation in the sixteenth century. The term “justification” was almost always interpreted in a transformationalist sense, as opposed to a strictly forensic one.

ii. Protestants themselves have disagreed amongst themselves as to the exact meaning of this doctrine. Immediately during and after the Reformation, questions have arisen among Protestants concerning such issues as:

a) the permanence of justification and perseverance
b) the relationship of justification to the sacraments and baptism
c) the exact nature of “justifying faith”
d) the relationship between a justified person and the law
e) the effects of justification

All of these questions have produced difficulties that have produced disagreements that in turn split churches. There are many modern Protestant denominations who only hold to Luther’s doctrine in a very loose sense, if at all. Moreover, the Protestants who now hold to Luther’s insistence on fides nuda (as opposed to fides caritate formata) in the role of justification are now probably in a very small minority.

iii. Aside from Protestantism, the two main historical branches of Christianity, Orthodoxy and Catholicism, still do not hold to the doctrine of “imputed righteousness,” even though it is now already five hundred years after the Reformation occured.

iv. There are many modern Biblical scholars, such as James D. G. Dunn and N.T. Wright, who think that Paul meant an altogether different thing by the word “justification” than how it was understood in the time of the Reformation. This would remove Paul entierely from the field of the Catholic/Protestant debates, thus ending the traditional Protestant reliance on Paul for these disputes.

The history of imputed righteousness was just one example of the unworkability of Sola Scriptura. There have also been many schisms within Protestantism as a result of differences over ecclesiology and sacramentalism. By pursuing this line of reasoning, we can show how the ecclesiological effects of the doctrine are simply pernicious. And it is often the case that after all the disputes and arguments are over, and when the schisms have done their damage to the church, that critical scholarship reveals that the debates had absolutely nothing to do with what the Biblical author really meant in the first place. Protestants must ask themselves: “If Sola Scriptura is such a great principle, why doesn’t it work in practice?” As Thomas More said, “If, then, your doctrines are true and confirmed by clear texts in Scripture, then you have to admit that the gates of hell have continuously prevailed against God’s scripture.”

(continued)