Not surprisingly, Quarles devotes about half of his review to a discussion of Licona’s handling of this one passage. Quarles offers what appears to me to be a very thoughtful and well considered critique of the apocalyptic interpretation of the pericope, which I will only summarize briefly here. He objects that the text of Matthew gives no clear indication of a shift in genre from historical narrative to apocalyptic. He posits that Licona’s arguments for the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection would also support the historicity of Matthew 27:52-53 (a point Quarles unfortunately does not develop, no doubt due to space constraints). He critiques the claim that the pericope is non-historical because it may be poetic. Quarles emphasizes that it is especially difficult to exclude historical and even evidential intent from Matthew’s statement “they appeared to many.” Finally, Quarles takes exception to Licona’s appeals to pagan parallels. His arguments here are worthy of reading and careful reflection.

Quarles mentions the controversy itself only very briefly at the end of the review:

“Recently, Licona’s position on these two verses has stirred considerable controversy, necessitating a more extensive treatment of his discussion of Matt 27:52-53 than a typical review would warrant. My hope, however, is that a treatment of two verses that amounts to only 6 pages out of the 641 pages of text in the book will not prevent conservative evangelicals from carefully reading and digesting the author’s many fine arguments for the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection” (843-44).

Amen to that.

Quarles offers no further comment on the Licona controversy, not even mentioning Norman Geisler, and says nothing about the claim that Licona’s view of the Matthean pericope is a denial of biblical inerrancy. This is rather ironic, given that JETS is the journal of a society founded on the issue of biblical inerrancy. To his credit, though, and as is appropriate in a book review, Quarles keeps the attention focused where it should be, on the relevant exegetical and hermeneutical issues and not on personalities or red-flag accusations.Similar Posts:

• Press Release: Michael Licona Response to Norm Geisler
• A Possible Error in the Bible?
• Is Inerrancy the Linchpin of Evangelicalism?
• What are the essentials to Christianity? Four Criteria
• Evidence for the Resurrection: Part 2 – External Evidence

However, while I believe that the Bible is inerrant, I do not believe this is the linchpin of Evangelicalism, much less Christianity. While I agree with most of the Chicago Statement of Biblical Inerrancy, I think I disagree with it when it says that one cannot deny inerrancy without incurring “grave consequences” on his or herself (XIX). “Grave” is a very strong word. Too strong, in my opinion. Nevertheless, inerrancy is important because it speaks to the nature of Scripture being in harmony with the nature of God. I have looked enough into this issue to believe that I probably won’t ever change my stance here. It is one of those issues that is pretty well settled in my theology.

However, if I were to find something that I believed was a legitimate error in the Scripture, I don’t think my faith would be affected too much. Why? Because the central truths of the Christian faith are not affected by inerrancy. I come across so many people who think that if they expose one error in the Bible, the entire Christian worldview will fall apart like the proverbial house of cards. This is simply not true.

Consider this illustration that Mike Licona gives: There were 712 survivors when the Titanic sank. These survivors were divided as to how the ship went down. Some said it broke in half, then went down. Others said it went down intact. There is a contradiction in testimony, right? So what do we do with this contradiction? Of all the options, there is no sane person out there who would say, “Well, since we don’t have consistent testimony as to what condition the Titanic was in when it sank, we have to give up our belief that it sunk altogether.” Yet that is exactly what some skeptics propose we do with the story of Christ and his resurrection. Every testimony that we have in the Gospels says that Christ died on a cross and rose from the grave. Just because we may have some conflicting accounts as to the details does not mean we abandon the consistent testimony about the main event.

Now, I believe that what most people see as conflicting accounts in the Gospels only strengthen their testimony, since the accounts show that they are looking at the same event, from different perspectives, without collaboration among the authors. However, even if they do conflict here and there, there is no rational reason to deny the resurrection of Christ any more than we would deny the sinking of the Titanic due to conflicting accounts.

I think this is a fundamental principle that inerrantists such as myself need to be more vocal in conceding in today’s world. I find many people who wear inerrancy on their sleeve just as prominently as historicity. This can get us into trouble as we tie inerrancy too closely with the Gospel. Historicity is the issue. Did the central events actually occur? If they did, Christianity is true, no matter how many angels John says were at the tomb, not matter whether Abiathar was high priest at the time of David, no matter what Pilate wrote on the sign above the cross, and no matter how Judas died. I believe in inerrancy because I believe in the historicity of the central Gospel message. I don’t believe in historicity because I believe in inerrancy. Christianity is true if Christ historically rose from the dead, period. It is false if he historically did not rise from the dead, period.

Think about this for a moment. I have argued that the central truths of Christianity are not dependent on inerrancy. But I would also say Christianity is not dependent on the inspiration of the Bible either. In other words, the Bible does not even have to be inspired for Christianity to be true. We could just think of the eyewitness accounts in what we call the New Testament as twenty-seven ancient historical documents. Being such, we could simply evaluate their truthfulness like we would any other historical document. If the document passes the tests of history, then that which it records (the resurrection of Jesus) is true. Hence, Christianity is true. No inspiration needed.

In fact (to take this one step further), we don’t even necessarily need the Scripture at all for Christianity to be true. Think about it. What if God had not given us the twenty-seven New Testament books? Would that mean that historically, Christ did not rise from the dead? Of course not. Why? Because Christ’s advent and resurrection did not happen because the Bible says they did, the Bible says they did because historically, they happened. But what if we did not have the New Testament? Well, we would be in good company, as there have been innumerable Christians throughout the history of the church who did not have access to the New Testament. How did the earliest church receive the Gospel? Through preaching, unwritten tradition, and generally reliable hearsay. God could have used any number of means to communicate the advent, death, and resurrection of his Son other than pen and paper. Direct prophecy, dreams, angelic encounters, or even the mouths of donkeys are all possible means by which the central truths of the Christian faith could have been preserved. The point is that Christianity is not dependent upon an inerrant text.

Again, having said all of this, I do believe in the inerrancy of Scripture. I love the Scripture because I love God. But I worship Christ, not the Bible. I thank God that he gave us an inerrant Bible. I believe that having an inerrant text can make us more confident in not only the central truths, but also the details of God’s will. I do believe that inerrancy is important and that we should continue to argue with some energy that the text is true in everything it teaches. However, this energy needs to be residual energy. Our primary energy needs to focus on the primary issue: did Jesus rise from the dead historically. All dominoes fall from there.

Inerrancy is important, but not cardinal. And while it may be a defining characteristic of Evangelicalism, it is not the defining characteristic of Evangelicalism.

(However, I must admit something: I probably would never hire someone to be a fellow at Credo House who did not believe that the Bible was true in everything it teaches. Maybe this is an inconsistency. I don’t know.)Similar Posts:

• The Danger of Inerrancy
• The Danger of Inerrancy
• "If the Bible is Not Inerrant, then Christianity is False" . . . And Other Stupid Statements
• Evidence for the Resurrection: Part 2 – External Evidence
• A Possible Error in the Bible?

One of the greatest attacks on Scripture comes from those who misunderstand the doctrine of inerrancy. A couple of years ago this chart was brought to my attention. I did not think it was serious, but it really is. It is supposed to represent the thousands of contradictions in the Bible. However, all it really represents is that the person who created it has no idea what inspiriation and inerrancy mean, nor how to do basic interpretation of literature (ancient or modern).

Sadly, though, it is becoming increasingly clear (again) that even some of those who believe in the inerrancy of Scripture have different interpretations of what inerrancy means. I believe in inerrancy. But maybe not how others define it. I am not trying to redefine anything, but the fact is that when it comes to this issue, there is a spectrum of belief among those who confess the doctrine. I am sure there would be some out there who would see my view of inerrancy as a liberal compromise.

Inerrancy: the Biblical doctrine which says that Scripture, in the autographs (originals), when interpreted correctly, is true in all that it teaches and upon which it touches.

I remember when I was young and I first began to read the Gospels. I was rather confused about the repetition of the story of Christ. I was further confused that there seemed to be many places where the same event was told in different ways, using different words, and sometimes with different people involved. Whether it was Christ’s encounter with the demoniacs (Luke 18:27ff; Matthew 8:28ff) or the words written above the cross (Mark 15:26; John 19:19), there were differences. I noticed that differences of this type were a primary criticism to which skeptics would refer when attacking the reliability of Scripture and the truth of Christianity. This disturbed me. If the Bible was inspired, these differences should not be there. Isn’t the Bible inerrant? If it is, it cannot have discrepancies. How could God have gotten it wrong? As I sought answers, I found initial comfort in those who would explain these “discrepancies” in some very creative ways. Most would say that the parallel accounts that I was having problems with were not really parallel at all. They were different encounters altogether!

These explanations satisfied me at the time. I thus unknowingly adopted a strict view that I call “technically precise inerrancy.” This means that all the writers of Scripture, by virtue of their ultimate source of information (God), recorded everything precisely as it occurred. It also means that we attempt to take the Bible with an absolute literalism until forced to opt for another approach.

I later came to realize that this methodology was not only unnecessary but was actually birthed, I believe, out of a very gnostic view of Scripture. I was so emphasizing God’s role in the writing of Scripture that the role of man could not be found. Yet if God used man in writing Scripture, and Scripture was intended for man, then would God not have used a common means of communication that did not require technical precision in describing events?

To make a long story short, I moved toward a view I call “reasoned inerrancy.” “Reasoned inerrancy” is a definition which recognizes that the Scriptures must be understood according to the rules of interpretation governed by genre, historical accommodations, context, argument, and purpose. In other words, the modernistic need for things to be technically precise with regard to Scripture, ironically held by both ultra-conservatives and skeptics who seek to pick apart the Bible, is just that – a modern need that produces a warped apologetic and a faulty hermeneutic.

Let me further define the faulty presupposition of the “technically precise” view of inerrancy. The presupposition is this: All writers of Scripture, by virtue of divine inspiration and inerrancy, must have recorded everything in a technically precise way. I take issue with this presupposition. I do not believe that inspiration and inerrancy require technical precision. Why would it be so difficult to believe that the authors of Scripture would take liberties in their recording of the Gospel narrative? Does “taking liberties” in the way someone recounts an event mean that they are producing fabrications or lies? Can’t people tell the same story different ways and even nuance that story according to their purposes and still be accurate?

We would never place this type of restraint upon people today. The Gospel writers were simply telling the story of Christ as enthusiastic reporters of good news who were emotionally committed to the truths which they were reporting. This happens every day in our own news reporting system and we don’t hold those reporters’ feet to the fire of technical precision.

Let’s do a test. Let’s look at multiple accounts of one event. We will take three accounts of the recent staff meeting at Credo House and see how they fare.

Original statement from me during the staff meeting: “This year has been a tremendous year at Credo House. The place is full of young people hanging out, playing pool, and enjoying Saint Nicholases (double shot espresso, red velvet, with a hint of mint). Just today, I was telling a young couple about how to verify whether or not historical events of the past actually took place, then I applied that to the resurrection of Christ. I could see in their eyes the excitement and intrigue that our faith is really true! I am now going to try to get people to stand behind this ministry.”

My sister could report this to a donor to the Credo House in this way: “Michael just told us during a meeting that the ministry is accomplishing exactly what we hoped the Lord would do through it. People are believing more today than yesterday. But he says we need funding to keep this going.”

One of my baristas could have described the same event to a friend this way: “Today at our staff meeting we learned something ground-breaking about how historical events can be verified! Michael was talking to people at the Credo House about this today. He says that we can verify whether the Gospels are without error.”

Both gave a summation of my speech which focused on the elements that they needed in order to accomplish their purpose. My barista did not need to talk about the funding of the ministry, so that was left out. As well, he embellished a bit when he quoted me as saying we can verify that the Gospels are without error. I did not originally say that. However, I would not say that he spoke untruthfully. He knows me well enough to know I believe in the total truthfulness of Scripture. Therefore, he knows that “the Gospels are without error” is a correct implication of what I was saying. As well, was this groundbreaking news? From his perspective, it was. But from the perspective of others who have been involved in this issue, it is nothing new.

My sister, who is calling donors, chooses to focus on the implications of what I said with regard to the mission of the Credo House. But she also included her interpretation of what I meant when I said, “I am now going to try to get people to stand behind this ministry.” She turned that into, “we need funding to keep this going.” This is perfectly understandable, considering her audience.

The point is that both my sister and my barista accurately represented what I said at the staff meeting. But they both put it in their own words and chose what they wanted to include and what they wanted to leave out to suit their purposes.

This is the same when it comes to Scripture. We must allow the biblical authors this right. We must allow them to have a particular purpose in writing. We must allow for this type of freehanded, nuanced, yet altogether accurate (inerrant) method of recounting the events. This liberty is part of inspiration. We believe that the Bible is a product that involves 100% man’s input and 100% God’s, don’t we? If we don’t, then we might as well take man out of the picture altogether and admit we hold to mechanical dictation (that God simply used the human authors’ hands in writing the Scripture, not their heads – this is sometimes called biblical docetism). If mechanical dictation is true, then we should not care who the authors were writing to and we certainly should not care why they were writing, since their motives do not influence the interpretation.

Some may accuse me of adopting “redaction criticism.” Redaction criticism is the critical method of study that assumes the Gospel writers changed the events surrounding the life of Christ to fit their purpose. I do understand that people have taken redaction criticism too far. Some have gone to the point of denying the truthfulness of the message, based upon the expediency of the moment. This is not what I am doing or suggesting. I am just giving the authors liberty to write an accurate account of the events, while not having to be technically precise with the wording, structure, or what they choose to include or leave out.

Scholars refer to these issues by discussing the difference between ipsissima verba (the very words) and ipsissima vox (the very voice). Did the writers record the very words of Christ or the spirit of truth that his words represent? I would say any inductive approach to arriving at a correct hermeneutic demands the latter. Only if we deduce that our theology of inspiration demands a strict level of preciseness within Scripture in order to be true will we adopt the former. I believe I have demonstrated that this is not only altogether unnecessary and naive, but misleading and dangerous.

Do I believe in inerrancy? If you mean “technically precise inerrancy,” the answer is no. But if you mean “reasoned inerrancy” that holds to an authorial intent hermeneutical method which includes ipsissima vox, then the answer is yes.

By the way, this is nothing new. It is simply how the Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy defines the subject. I only wish that skeptics like those who produce these charts would at least attempt to avoid creating straw man arguments. Then again, it would not be much of a poster if they did not! However, I do think we need to give them the benefit of the doubt and know that they may be like some of my ultra-conservative friends in believing that inerrancy demands technical precision. This is getting inerrancy wrong.

I look forward to your comments.Similar Posts:

• Do I Believe in Inerrancy? It Depends . . .
• Do I Believe in Inerrancy? It Depends . . .
• My Definite Stance on Inerrancy
• Dan Wallace on Trial
• Case Studies in Inerrancy: A New P&P Series

Dr. Geisler questions whether I still hold to biblical inerrancy. I want to be clear that I continue to affirm this evangelical distinctive. My conclusion in reference to the raised saints in Matthew 27 was based upon my analysis of the genre of the text. This was not an attempt to wiggle out from under the burden of an inerrant text; it was an attempt to respect the text by seeking to learn what Matthew was trying to communicate. This is responsible hermeneutical practice. Any reasonable doctrine of biblical inerrancy must respect authorial intent rather than predetermine it.

When writing a sizable book, there will always be portions in which one could have articulated a matter more appropriately. And those portions, I suppose, will often be located outside the primary thesis of the book, such as the one on which Dr. Geisler has chosen to focus. When writing my book, I always regarded the entirety of Matthew 27 as historical narrative containing apocalyptic allusions. I selected the term “poetic” in order to allude to similar phenomena in the Greco-Roman literature in general and Virgil in particular. However, since Matthew is a Jew writing to Jews, “apocalyptic” may be the most appropriate technical term, while “special effects” communicates the gist on a popular level.

Further research over the last year in the Greco-Roman literature has led me to reexamine the position I took in my book. Although additional research certainly remains, at present I am just as inclined to understand the narrative of the raised saints in Matthew 27 as a report of a factual (i.e., literal) event as I am to view it as an apocalyptic symbol. It may also be a report of a real event described partially in apocalyptic terms. I will be pleased to revise the relevant section in a future edition of my book.

                                                                                                Michael R. Licona, Ph.D.
August 31, 2011

 We the undersigned are aware of the above stated position by Dr. Michael Licona, including his present position pertaining to the report of the raised saints in Matthew 27: He proposes that the report may refer to a literal/historical event, a real event partially described in apocalyptic terms, or an apocalyptic symbol. Though most of us do not hold Licona’s proposal, we are in firm agreement that it is compatible with biblical inerrancy, despite objections to the contrary. We are encouraged to see the confluence of biblical scholars, historians, and philosophers in this question.

W. David Beck, Ph.D.
Craig Blomberg, Ph.D.
James Chancellor, Ph.D.
William Lane Craig, D.Theol., Ph.D.
Jeremy A. Evans, Ph.D.
Gary R. Habermas, Ph.D.
Craig S. Keener, Ph.D.
Douglas J. Moo, Ph.D.
J. P. Moreland, Ph.D.
Heath A. Thomas, Ph.D.
Daniel B. Wallace, Ph.D.
William Warren, Ph.D.
Edwin M. Yamauchi, Ph.D.Similar Posts:

• Quarles Reviews Licona on the Resurrection
• A Possible Error in the Bible?
• Do I Believe in Inerrancy? It Depends . . .
• Getting Inerrancy Wrong
• Do I Believe in Inerrancy? It Depends . . .

In Mark 2.26, as found in Nestle-Aland²⁷, Jesus is reported as saying: πῶς εἰσῆλθεν εἰς τὸν οἶκον τοῦ θεοῦ ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως καὶ τοὺς ἄρτους τῆς προθέσεως ἔφαγεν, οὓς οὐκ ἔξεστιν φαγεῖν εἰ μὴ τοὺς ἱερεῖς, καὶ ἔδωκεν καὶ τοῖς σὺν αὐτῷ οὖσιν; Or, in English, “Haven’t you ever read what David did when he was in need and he and his companions were hungry? How he entered into the house of God when Abiathar was high priest and ate the sacred bread that is not lawful for anyone but priests to eat, and also gave it to his companions?” (Mark 2.25-26). The fundamental problem with the phrase “when Abiathar was high priest” is that this incident in David’s life is recorded in but one passage in the OT, 1 Sam 21.1-7. But there, Ahimelech is mentioned as the priest; Abiathar, his son, would later become high priest, but he is not introduced into the narrative for another chapter (22.20).

On the one hand, the prepositional phrase, ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως, has caused some angst for evangelicals because it ostensibly is a historical error. And if so, whose error is it? Did some early scribe corrupt his copy of Mark, which then influenced other witnesses and became the predominant text? Or did Mark add this as an editorial comment on his own? Or did he copy down accurately what his source said (which, according to patristic writers at least, would have been the apostle Peter)—a source that created the historical discrepancy? Or is it possible that Mark’s source repeated Jesus’ words accurately, but that Jesus made a mistake? Or did Jesus summarize the OT text accurately, but the OT was in error? Assigning error to someone is one route that is taken today in dealing with this problem. What I wish to contend, however, is that several presuppositions are at work in assigning blame; the matter cannot simply be isolated to a bibliological problem. Yet even here, there are rather different approaches to the problem by evangelicals.

In addition to the bibliological issue is the question of which Gospel came first. Those who embrace Markan priority tend to argue for an error on Mark’s part that would have been detected and eliminated by Matthew and Luke. Those who embrace Matthean priority tend to downplay any error on Mark’s part by various, although rather brief, explanations.

Then there is the christological issue. Very few scholars even entertain the notion that Jesus could have had a mental lapse. Here is where both liberal and conservative scholars are usually in agreement, but for different reasons: the more conservative scholars, because of their high christology and high bibliology, almost never raise the possibility that Jesus could have erred for that would apparently impugn the character of both the Lord and the Bible. Less conservative scholars (moderate as well as liberal) often see only part of the pericope going back to Jesus, and v 26 is sometimes relegated to a later source. But Jewish scholars have no problem seeing this pericope going back to Jesus and attributing error to him.

Textual criticism also plays a role in this passage. There are variants that either alter the prepositional phrase and its subsequent translation or eradicate it altogether. But one’s text-critical theories inform his decision here—or at least they should!

This is just the tip of the iceberg. Unfortunately, the interpretations of this text are so vast and our time so short that we will have to park ourselves on that part of the iceberg that is above water. Perhaps that is the safest place to be though after all.

The fundamental problem in this text is that Abiathar was not the high priest when David went into the sanctuary and ate the showbread. This raises several questions; in the least, someone or something seems to be wrong. Here are the facts: (1) 1 Sam 21.1-7 mentions Ahimelech as the priest when David entered the sanctuary; (2) Abiathar was Ahimelech’s son; although he was a priest when this incident occurred, he was not the high priest but would become so later (after Saul murdered his father and eighty-four other priests); (3) Ahimelech’s ministry was in Nob, while Abiathar’s would especially be in Jerusalem; (4) except for the possibility of text-critical solutions, Mark’s Gospel has the words ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως, normally translated “when Abiathar was high priest.” In addition, there are several other, less significant differences between the dominical version of this story and that found in 1 Sam 21.1-7 (Gundry lists seven).

In addition to the differences between Mark 2.26 and 1 Sam 21.1-7, there are differences between Mark 2.26 and the parallel accounts in Matthew and Luke. The parallel in Matt 12.3-4 reads, “Haven’t you read what David did when he and those with him were hungry—how he went into the house of God and they ate the bread of presentation, which was not lawful for him or those with him to eat, but only for the priests?” And Luke 6.3-4 has, “Haven’t you read what David did when he and those with him were hungry, how he entered the house of God, took and ate the bread of the Presence (which is not lawful for any but the priests to eat) and gave it to those with him?” Except for a few stylistic changes between Mark 2.26 and the parallels in Matt 12.4 and Luke 6.4, the only difference is the omission of Mark’s “when Abiathar was high priest” (ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως) by both Matthew and Luke. It is hard to resist the notion that Matthew and Luke deliberately expunged this line from their respective copies of Mark so as not to impugn the character of Jesus. But if one holds to Matthean priority, then a softer explanation for the differences must usually present itself.

What possible avenues for a solution do we have for the Abiathar problem? The leading contenders[1] are as follows:

1. Text-critical: the text is wrong and needs to be emended;
2. Hermeneutical: our interpretation is wrong and needs to altered;
3. Dominical: Jesus is wrong (or intentionally midrashic) and this needs to be adjusted to;
4. Source-critical: Mark’s source (Peter?) is wrong (or intentionally midrashic);
5. Mark is wrong (or intentionally midrashic).

The third, fourth, and fifth responses especially need to be examined more carefully, as they are usually rejected by those who embrace both a high bibliology and a high christology. It is imperative that we do not allow our presuppositions to preclude a solid historical investigation. The problem is that some evangelicals—especially members of this society—frontload their investigation with the explicit premise that the scriptures cannot err.[2] Ironically, by starting with this presupposition, they may inadvertently pit Christ against the Bible. The incarnation demands that we do careful historical work, for God became man in time-space history. As such, he invites us to examine the data about his life and death, rather than take a fideistic stance of naïve, uncritical acceptance. As painful as it may be to think about some of these possibilities, if we do not wrestle with them then we will be dishonest in our handling of the text. Each of these approaches will now be examined; our order of investigation will be 1, 3, 4, 5, and 2. That is, we will leave the hermeneutical solution till the end.

(N.B. We are renumbering everything according to the new scheme below. This will be referred to later in the paper.)

1. Text-Critical: The text as it stands is incorrect and needs to be emended.

There are two basic alterations in the ancient witnesses here: D W 271 Itala Syriac^s and a few others omit ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως, no doubt in conformity to the parallels in Matthew and Luke. This is thus almost strictly a Western reading. Those who adopt this these textual variant are, generally speaking, more inclined to embrace Matthean priority. For example, in William Farmer’s The Synoptic Problem: A Critical Analysis[3], the author enlists the help of V. H. Stanton[4] in treating the minor agreements between Matthew and Luke.[5] Farmer quotes from Stanton’s volume, apparently with approbation, that ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως in Mark 2.26 is “erroneous” and that it “may have been an addition by a ‘badly informed copyist.’”[6] Mann also entertains the possibility of scribal corruption, as does Sanders.[7]

As a sidenote, it is interesting that the Western scribes expunge the wording here. In the least, this seems to be evidence that they were concerned about protecting the Lord’s reputation when citing scripture. It is texts such as this (and there are hundreds of them, and in all text-types) that reveal early scribal piety across the board, suggesting that Dean Burgon’s condemnation of the early uncials as products of wicked men was unfounded.

A C Θ Π Σ Φ 074 1 131 209 f¹³ and many others add τοῦ before ἀρχιερέως. The significance of the article is that it turns ἀρχιερέως into an appositive, while the anarthrous noun remains a predicate genitive to Ἀβιαθάρ. (This will be discussed in some detail later.) The addition of the article gives the meaning “in the days of Abiathar the high priest,” suggesting a more general time-frame.[8] This reading thus has a mixture of some Byzantine, Caesarean, and even semi-Alexandrian support. Neither reading has significant external support and both are obviously motivated by scribal piety toward the text. It is difficult to imagine scribes intentionally creating a problem by adding ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως to Mark’s gospel and only to Mark’s gospel. Though perhaps easier to understand, the omission of τοῦ before ἀρχιερέως would hardly have occurred intentionally. And there is little good reason for it to occur accidentally as well. Thus, when it comes to determining which reading gave rise to the others, ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως clearly is superior and obviously authentic.

A general caution about textual criticism I tell my students is that one should not use this discipline as a way out of a difficult problem, but as the means to determine the wording of the original. The biggest danger in textual criticism is to choose a reading that agrees with the interpreter’s preconceptions instead of choosing the reading that best explains (both internally and externally) the rise of the other readings. One has to wonder whether some Griesbachians need to heed that advice.

2. Dominical: Jesus himself made a mistake or was intentionally midrashic (i.e., he embellished the OT story to make his point).

There are two distinct options here: some think that Jesus may have erred; others think that Jesus embellished the OT text to make a point.

2.a. Jesus erred.

It might not surprise us to learn that Jewish interpreters have no problem seeing Jesus committing a historical mistake here. Thus, D. M. Cohn-Sherbok, a rabbi, argues that “though Jesus seems to have been familiar with rabbinic hermeneutics, the arguments he employs are invalid from a rabbinic point of view.”[9] But what about Christian scholars? Indeed, there are some who entertain this view.

Brown argues that Jesus may have erred here[10]:

In Mark 2:26 Jesus says that David entered the house of God when Abiathar was high priest and ate the loaves of the presence. The scene is found in 1 Sam 21:2-7; there, however, the high priest is not Abiathar but Ahimelech. Matt and Luke seem to have noticed the difficulty, for their accounts of this saying of Jesus omit any mention of the high priest (Matt 12:4; Luke 6:4). Abiathar was better known than Ahimelech and more closely associated with David in later life, so that popular tradition may have easily confused the two. But if the reading is genuine, Jesus shows no awareness that he is following an inaccurate version of the story.

Brown is quick to note that he is not altogether comfortable making such pronouncements; indeed, he has been one of the strongest defenders of the deity of Christ in the 20^th century, a factor which may give him pause here. This is an intriguing though disturbing option to consider. Yet few scholars give this more than a glance. Nevertheless, some of the rationale for considering this option is as follows:

• Several verses in the NT seem to indicate that Jesus’ humanity was no different from ours, except that he did not sin. Cf. Heb 4.15 (“tempted in every way just as we are, yet without sin”; Heb 5.8 (he “learned obedience”); Luke 2.52 (he “increased in wisdom and in stature, and in favor with God and with people”[11]).
• These texts seem to indicate that Jesus’ growth as a human being was along essentially normal lines. Thus, a part of this almost surely involved such things as the following: (1) he probably stumbled and fell the first time he stood up to walk. Would we really expect him to rise and walk without stumbling on his first attempt? That view of our Lord seems to be more docetic than orthodox. (2) He probably hit his thumb with a hammer working for Joseph (though he didn’t swear when he did it!); (3) He probably made Hebrew (or Aramaic or Greek) grammatical, pronunciation, and syntactical mistakes as he learned the language, being gently corrected by his mother. This is almost surely the case, for to learn a language well requires interaction, trial and error, correction, and instruction. If Jesus did not say anything until he was sure he was right, then his childhood would be marked out as both ostentatious and exceedingly quiet; but if his childhood proceeded along normal lines, and if he always used the correct grammatical forms, then he would most likely have had to learn at least some of those forms supernaturally. But if that is the case, then his childhood was anything but normal, and would seem to be an implicit denial of the principles taught in Luke 2.52. And (4) he probably made a whole host of other mistakes that would not be classified as sin.
• If Jesus made mistakes in certain areas as a child—even in the area of knowledge—why should we suppose that he did not do so as an adult? Did he stop learning as an adult? Hebrews 5.8 says no; he continued to learn obedience through the things he suffered. Although the learning here is related to experiencing obedience as a human being, it is still learning and it takes place preeminently in Jesus’ adult life, reaching its climax in the crucifixion.[12]
• As well, there is clear evidence in the gospels that Jesus’ omniscience was not always on a human conscious level. Many texts address this, but chief among them is Mark 13.32: “No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (NIV).
• In sum, although we may well feel uncomfortable with this approach, it must be admitted that to see Jesus err in Mark 2.26 is not to deny his deity, for a mistaken identification is not the same as sin. We will revisit this approach later.

2.b. Jesus embellished.

Gundry suggests the following[13]:

To strengthen his argument, Jesus adds a number of features not found in the OT passage: (1) David’s having companions with him (contrast 1 Sam 21:2-3 [1-2]); (2) his having need; (3) his and his companions’ being hungry; (4) the house of God and David’s entering it rather than merely asking for bread; (5) Abiathar’s being a “high priest,” not just a “priest”; (6) David’s eating the loaves of presentation, either while he is still inside the house of God or after he has come out; and (7) his giving some of the loaves to his companions. Moreover, the OT text speaks of Ahimelech, not of Abiathar. … Apparently, then, Jesus not only adds a number of features. He also replaces Ahimelech with Abiathar the son of Ahimelech for a link with the added house of God, which for Jesus and his audience stands in Jerusalem, where Abiathar officiated (2 Sam 15:24, 35; 17:15; 19:12 [11]), not in Nob, where Ahimelech gave bread to David.

This line of argument is in keeping with Gundry’s earlier (and infamous!) commentary on Matthew, in which he argued that Matthew’s gospel finds its closest genre parallels in Jewish midrash. He now sees Jesus following the same hermeneutical method. In his conclusion to this problem, Gundry forcefully argues: “The fact that when Abiathar does appear in 1 Sam 22:20-23 he does so in connection with the foregoing incident at the house of God makes it easy for Jesus to use his name in blotting out Ahimelech for the sake of a link with Jerusalem.”[14] What is interesting is that Gundry apparently changed his views from his doctoral days at Manchester; his doctoral thesis, published under the title, The Use of the Old Testament in St. Matthew’s Gospel with Special Reference to the Messianic Hope[15], argued essentially that Matthew’s and Jesus’ use of the OT was hermeneutically quite different from rabbinic exegesis. For example, on 215 he says, “Most of all, the theological depth and coherence of the hermeneutical principles (in sharp contrast with Qumran and rabbinic exegesis) demand the unique genius of the kind of man Jesus must have been—they cannot reasonably be set down to Gemeindetheologie.” Thus, it might not be unfair to ask ‘Which Gundry?’ when wrestling with his recent views on Mark 2.26.

Nevertheless, his rabbinic views are generally found in much older, and sometimes even conservative, literature. In the last two hundred years, such notable scholars as Christopher Wordsworth, James Morison, A. E. J. Rawlinson, Hugh Anderson, and J. Bowman have held to one form or another of the midrashic approach.[16]

What shall we say about Gundry’s treatment? At least in comparison with Brown’s approach, Gundry is more conservative than his Roman Catholic counterpart; he is an evangelical who embraces inerrancy, though his definition allows for quite a bit of latitude. Nevertheless, Gundry’s approach may well be more troubling for many evangelicals than Brown’s, for it may seem to some to be a case of scripture-twisting on Jesus’ part. Mistaken identification is one thing; intentional alteration is another. Perhaps more important is the criticism that Cohn-Sherbok leveled against a midrashic Jesus: “though Jesus seems to have been familiar with rabbinic hermeneutics, the arguments he employs are invalid from a rabbinic point of view.”[17] One wonders, along these lines, why Matthew—whose gospel is surely the most Jewish of the synoptics—omits “when Abiathar was high priest” if he learned his hermeneutics from Jesus (as Gundry earlier affirmed). Why would a midrashic Jesus here cause problems for Matthew?

3. Source-critical: Mark’s source (Peter?) made a mistake in reporting Jesus’ words, or else was intentionally midrashic.

Several scholars indicate that the problem in Mark 2.26 may have been due to the evangelist or to his source(s).[18] Now if Peter was the source behind Mark’s gospel, as early patristic writers suggest,[19] it is possible that he added to the dominical saying as he recalled Jesus’ teachings. If so, Mark could have faithfully copied down what Peter wrote, even to the point of recording his mistaken identification of the priest at Nob. This is not much different from what some scholars argue regarding Luke’s recording of Stephen’s speech in Acts 7: there may be historical errors in the speech, but Luke was faithful to record his speech, warts and all.[20] There is of course a certain attractiveness to this view: It absolves both Jesus and Mark from error, and by so doing maintains both a high bibliology and a high christology. Even though Peter was an apostle, in this instance he would not have written scripture. Thus, his oral sermons could hardly be viewed as inspired.

The problem with this view is that if Peter is the source, then that means that he would have most likely given this sermon on dozens of occasions. Surely someone would have corrected him on his historical blunder long before Mark ever wrote down Peter’s memoirs. It is quite different if Jesus or Mark is the source for the ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως. If Jesus said it, the phrase could easily have remained in the oral tradition out of respect for Jesus’ words, even if there were questions as to what was meant by them. However, if Peter is the source of the phrase, in the least one of the apostles would surely have pointed out the error of his ways. An intermediate source, especially if it is Peter, then, remains one of the least likely options.

On a midrashic approach, the same problems as are mentioned with #3 also are raised here, only more so!

4. Mark erred in reporting what his source said, or was intentionally midrashic.

That Mark may have been midrashic is not very likely; such would have been lost on his audience. But that he could have created the error here, or have gotten it from a written source (as opposed to oral tradition), is more likely. This is the view that is probably the most popular among critical scholars. Many commentators simply assume this is the case, without much comment beyond mere assumption. So Meyer, Wendling, Hultgren, Tolbert, O’Connell, Turner, Morgan, Kiilunen, and Pesch,[21] among others, take this route. Kiilunen is representative: he unceremoniously calls the ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως phrase “das Fehlen.”[22] Others spend much more time on the issue but come to the same conclusion. So Lagrange, Swete, Guelich, Hawkins, and Casey.[23]

A point often put forth in this connection is that the OT seems to confuse the two names at times. Hurtado, for example, notes: “It is possible that the Markan account is confused here, for the OT itself is not easy to follow in its references to Ahimelech and Abiathar. In 1 Sam. 22:20, Abiathar is described as son of Ahimelech; whereas 2 Sam. 8:17 and 1 Chron. 24:6 refer to Ahimelech as son of Abiathar and as priest under David.…”[24] This is an old view, with a long list of patristic writers and later authorities embracing some spin on it. Chrysostom, Victor of Antioch, Euthymius Zigabenus, Theophylact, Beza, Heumann, Kuinoel, Garland, Hurtado, Guelich, and many others mention it. It takes two forms. First, the OT is confused, or at least the copies are confused. Second, the OT is correct and both men shared the same name. [25] If the OT erred, this would hardly absolve Mark. As the adage goes, two wrongs don’t make a right. But what of the likelihood that both men shared the same name? In his defense of Matthean priority, Buchanan went so far as to suggest that “According to the LXX, well-known to all three evangelists, the priest who gave David the Bread of the Presence was Abiathar. It is not likely that either Matthew or Luke would have omitted the LXX account just because it did not agree with the MT.”[26] But Morgan proved that Buchanan was wrong: no extant LXX MSS in 1 Sam 21 read “Abiathar.”[27] Even if these two men’s names were sometimes confused, they are not so in 1 Sam 21. Only Ahimelech is seen there, as far as any extant witnesses reveal. And since that is the story that Jesus is referring to, the difficulty of the mention of Abiathar remains.

5. Hermeneutical: The interpretation that “when Abiathar was high priest” is incorrect.

Several solutions present themselves here, but two predominate. First, it is possible that the reference to Abiathar is not to the person per se but to the section of scripture that is being alluded to—thus, “in the portion relating to Abiathar.” Michaelis (in his Introduction to the New Testament) seems to have been the first to propose this view. So Mark 12.26: οὐκ ἀνέγνωτε ἐν τῇ βίβλῳ Μωϋσέως ἐπὶ τοῦ βάτου (“have you not read in the book of Moses, in [the passage about] the [burning] bush”). Robinson[28] finds a parallel in the Mishnah: “Whoever confesses his guilt shall have a portion in the world to come; for so we find in Achan [i.e., in the section of the book of Joshua about Achan] that Joshua said to him, ‘My son, give glory to the Lord…” Though apparently dormant for some time, Wenham resurrected the view in the 20^th century, and has been followed by Lane, Roure, and a few others.[29]

The major problem with this solution is that it requires linking ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως with οὐδέποτε ἀνέγνωτε at the beginning of v 25. But there is too much distance between the words to do this naturally. Such a reading, precisely because it is not natural, would probably never have presented itself except for the historical problem of the text. Interestingly, Lane, who apparently embraces this view, nevertheless offers an excellent critique of it:

The objections which may be raised against this proposal are that ἐπὶ Ἀβιάθαρ [sic] ἀρχιερέως is considerably separated from ‘have you not read,’ unlike Ch. 12:26; that Abiathar is by no means the central element in this section of I Samuel; that the introduction of Abiathar first in Ch. 22 constitutes it unlikely that his name would be given to the section; and that numerous instances in Tannaitic documents indicate that a section was usually designated by a term which occurs early, not late, in the section. The strongest argument for this proposal is the undoubted use of ἐπί cum genitive in Ch. 12:26 to indicate a section of Scripture.[30]

The second possible hermeneutical solution is that ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως could possibly be translated “in the days of Abiathar the high priest.” This was the view of Grotius, Wetstein, Wordsworth, Scholz, and many others. It is the wording of the KJV as well, though the KJV is based on a different text here (which has τοῦ before ἀρχιερέως). Thomas Fanshaw Middleton, in his still unexcelled treatment of the article in the Greek NT, spends much time on this interpretation, but he bases his views on the articular reading.[31] Indeed, Middleton provides the basis for this view’s rejection: “That reading [the one without the article which is adopted in NA²⁷]… would indeed mean, that Abiathar was actually High Priest at the period in question.[32] Middleton cites several classical references to back up his statement. In grammatical terms, we could say ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως involves a predicate genitive (“when Abiathar was high priest”) while ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ τοῦ ἀρχιερέως involves an appositive to Ἀβιαθάρ (“in the time of Abiathar the high priest”).[33]

Nevertheless, several modern scholars adopt this view. Standard works such as BDAG and BDR argue this without much fanfare—and, unfortunately, without much basis![34] Edwards makes a stronger case: “Mark’s wording… employs epi technically to mean ‘in the time’ (so 1 Macc 13:42; Luke 3:2; Acts 11:28; Martyrdom of Polycarp 21).”[35] But these texts do not help the case as much as he would suppose: they were cited by Swete and Middleton on behalf of the opposite view, viz., that “when an anarthrous title is added to the personal name, the period is limited to the term of office.”[36] I do not yet know of any texts in which the construction ἐπί + genitive of personal name + anarthrous title indicates the general “in the time of,” though one or two seem to come close (see appendix). To be sure, I have not searched very diligently for this construction. But I am not satisfied that BDR and BDAG have supplied sufficient evidence on its behalf.[37]

Conclusion

In 1883, Thomas M. Lindsay could write about the Abiathar problem: “Various explanations of the difficulty have been given, none very satisfactory.”[38] It’s one hundred and twenty-one years later and you may feel, as do I, that if Lindsay were to rise from the dead he’d repeat his complaint verbatim!

But we must put this problem in perspective. What is at stake? Is the deity of Christ at stake? Apparently not, for two of the leading advocates of the “Jesus erred/midrashed” view embrace the deity of Christ. Is the inerrancy of scripture at stake? Possibly so, for if either option 3(a), or 4(a) is adopted, inerrancy cannot hold up. Is the infallibility of scripture at stake? Ironically, it seems to be so only if Gundry’s view is given full force and if Jesus’ use of scripture would have been perceived as self-serving and as eisegetical, for Jesus’ invoking of scripture here is directly related to a matter of faith and practice.

Second, what options seem to be excluded by the evidence? Option 1 (text-critical) is clearly out. The others all have some merit on the basis of evidence.

Third, how and when should our theological presuppositions enter the picture as we try to handle the data of the text honestly? In the least, it is imperative that we not frontload our presuppositions to such an extent that we don’t listen to the text. Evangelicalism is populated with all sorts of academic gatekeepers whose theological a priori drives their investigation and determines its results. The tragic irony is that such people never really learn from the text, for they have already decided what it will tell them. At the same time, we must not think that exegesis can ever be presuppositionless. That notion went out with the demise of historical positivism. There is a difference between giving generally reliable witnesses—reliable as determined by a sound historical method—the benefit of the doubt and assuming that the biblical writers cannot possibly err.

Fourth, this leads to a taxonomy of the doctrine of scripture. With reference to bibliology, I believe we should first and foremost embrace the Bible as a witness to the great acts of God in history, especially to the Christ-event. This is enough for salvation. Second, we should recognize it as an infallible guide in matters of faith and practice. This is needed for sanctification as well. These two pillars seem to be the hallmark of the Church throughout its history, until recently. And third, we should see it as inerrant—true in what it touches. This basically is a safeguard for infallibility, but must never supersede the first two credos about scripture. For when it does, then the incarnation is dishonored. Thus, inadvertently, when we frontload inerrancy and refuse to really probe the tough historical questions, we end up betraying our commitment to the incarnation. The deepest tragedy along these lines is when someone never differentiates doctrinal commitments, for this leaves him wide open to chucking his entire belief system when the weakest link is broken. From experience, I can tell you that this “domino view of doctrine” is altogether too prevalent and has been the ruin of a great many evangelical doctoral students.

Fifth, how can we assess these various options? It must be admitted that views 2-5 all have a certain plausibility.[39] If you were to decide to opt for 2, 3, or 4, I would simply plead with you not to abandon Christ. If your bibliology goes down a notch or two because of this problem, the deity of Christ in the least should still be insulated—unless of course you hold to a domino view of doctrine! Further, if I were to decide that view 3 or 4 was the most compelling, and that this decision resulted in my abandoning inerrancy, it would be a gross distortion to call me liberal! At the same time, one must be very careful about making major theological shifts, especially before the data have been sufficiently examined. Caution is needed when examining material that could change your theological commitments.

Along these lines, I am reminded of what a sage wrote nearly one hundred and fifty years ago. J. A. Alexander concluded, concerning this passage, “It is best, however, as in all such cases, to leave the discrepancy unsolved rather than to solve it by unnatural and forced constructions. A difficulty may admit of explanation, although we may not be able to explain it, and the multitude of cases in which riddles once esteemed insoluble have since been satisfactorily settled, should encourage us to hope for like results in other cases…”[40]

Appendix: my present preference

My own preference is for view 5: I believe that we have interpreted the text incorrectly. I am least comfortable with Gundry’s view (2.b., and by implication 3.b. and 4.b.): to see Jesus’ use of the OT as midrashic is to overturn all the work that Gundry had done earlier; further, his view of Matthew’s hermeneutic as essentially midrashic seems to ignore the ostensibly far closer parallels of Mark and Luke. If Gundry argues that Mark is also midrashic, then Luke must surely follow, for Luke does not differ too significantly from his source. But Luke can hardly be midrashic, for he opens his gospel by echoing Thucydides’ historical principles. Further, if Luke is midrashic, then virtually everything is up for grabs in the gospels, with all the historical and archeological spadework of two millennia being tacitly ignored.

But I am also not particularly comfortable with Brown’s approach, for two reasons: (1) Although Jesus certainly displayed ignorance on occasion by way of omission (e.g., not knowing the date of his return), that seems to be qualitatively different from a statement that involved error. Further, although he almost surely made mistakes as a child while in the process of learning, I tend to view Luke 2.52 as indicating the growth that produced the adult and mature man (thus making his adulthood on a different plane than his childhood). (2) Although Brown defends the deity of Christ, as a Roman Catholic his view of God is not the same as the Protestant view, especially the Reformed Protestant view. Catholic perceptions of God’s sovereignty and majesty tend to be semi-Pelagian, while Protestant views range from Arminian to Calvinistic. Thus, in Brown’s view, it might possibly be easier to affirm an error in Jesus’ statement because such does not impugn his doctrine of God. (For example, although Catholics embrace the omniscience of God, their very doctrine of conditional election seems to presuppose a growth in God’s knowledge and on that basis he chooses.) Views 3 and 4 simply push the issue away from Jesus, making Peter or Mark the errant party. But there is actually little to commend the notion that they did not get this statement about Abiathar from Jesus.

As for view 5, my preference right now is to take the prepositional phrase as meaning “in the days of Abiathar the high priest.” Although Mark apparently does not employ the temporal use of this preposition elsewhere, he almost surely does so here—for both “when Abiathar was high priest” and “in the days of Abiathar the high priest” are temporal expressions. Further, the construction ἐπί + genitive noun is frequently used with a temporal sense outside of Mark—with a meaning similar to ‘in the days of…’ BDAG lists numerous biblical and patristic references under ἐπί with a genitive for time, all in the sense of “in the time of, under (kings or other rulers).” Cf., e.g., Luke 4.27 (‘in the time of Elisha’), Luke 3.2 (‘in the time of the high priest, Annas and Caiaphas’) and even Mark 2.26 (‘in the time of Abiathar the high priest’). Two questions remain: (1) Can any of these texts mean ‘in the time of’ as distinct from ‘when’? That is, can they mean something like “the 1990s will forever be linked to Clinton’s presidency,” even though he was not president for the whole decade? (2) If so, do any of them have ἐπί + genitive proper noun, followed by an anarthrous common noun? Without examining all the data supplied by BDAG, Luke 3.2 looks to be the closest parallel to Mark 2.26, even though ‘high priest’ comes before the two names (the grammatical meaning differs when the proper name comes second; no article is required). But if these two men did not function as high priest simultaneously—and since the singular event of the word of the Lord coming to John the Baptist was during their high priesthood, then this seems to be a clear text in support of the general time frame of ‘in the days of.’ More work certainly needs to be done, but suffice it to say that this view has a certain plausibility and cannot be hastily rejected.

Similar Posts:

• A Possible Error in the Bible?
• Case Studies in Inerrancy: 1 Sam. 26:5-16
• Is Inerrancy the Linchpin of Evangelicalism?
• The Gospels: Embarrassingly Authentic
• New Testament Textual Criticism 101

But his problem was clear. He thought that just because something was in the Bible that something was true, good, and representative of God’s will. What I had to convince him of was that if it is in the Bible, it is not necessarily true.

We follow the Bible in what it teaches, but not everything it records is intended to be teaching in the proper sense. Our goal as Christians is to be good interpreters of the Bible, being able to discern when something is being taught or when something is being told. This way we don’t get flustered, and find ourselves in the odd place of trying to defend the morality of adultery, incest, or child sacrifice (you know, that crazy story of Jephthah in Judges 11:30-39?).

Here are five ways that we can mistakenly believe that the Bible is teaching truth or principles when it is not.

1. Some parts of the Bible are incidental to the bigger picture, not intending to teach any principle.

Be careful that you don’t try to find a principle in every passage. Not every verse or chapter of the Bible has an “application” in the traditional sense. For example, the chronologies of Matthew and Luke are not intending to teach a principle in and of themselves. They are simply attempting to give necessary background material so that Christ as the Messiah can be substantiated. (And don’t get me started on the prayer of Jabez!)

2. You have to distinguish between prescriptive and descriptive passages.

This is related to the previous and is especially relevant to narrative books such as Acts. We must be very careful with narratives since their primary purpose is to tell a story that is relevant to the bigger picture of redemption, not to give us prescriptive commands to live by. For example, in Acts chapter 1 we are told that the Apostles “cast lots” to discover who God wanted to replace Judas among the twelve. This is not giving principles on how to elect a pastor! It is simply saying this is what happened, nothing more, nothing less.

Another example (although not narrative) appears in Paul’s second letter to Timothy. Paul tells Timothy to “bring him his cloak” (2 Tim 4:13). There is no abiding theological principle saying that Christians are to bring people coats! It is simply teaching us that Paul asked Timothy to bring him his cloak. Paul was cold! Nothing profound.

Throw into this mix the story of Lot, his daughters and Jephthah’s sacrifice of his daughter. The Bible was giving an account of man’s depravity, not looking at these events with approval.

3. Different types of literature have different types of truth.

You cannot interpret a Psalm the same way you do a Proverb. And you can’t interpret a Proverb the same you you do an epistle (letter). And you can’t interpret an epistle the same way you do apocalyptic material. They all follow different rules. And the truths that they communicate will be understood according to those rules. For example, a Proverb is a general truth of wisdom that does not necessarily apply or hold in every situation. Just because the Bible has proverbs does not mean that we are to sanctify the way we interpret the proverb. In other words, just because it is in the Bible does not mean that it is a truth that does necessarily apply in every situation. Psalms are songs and need to be understood under such imagery. Epistles are letters and need to be understood under the “rules” that apply to a letter. And then there is Ecclesiastes…don’t get me started there!

4. Sometimes the author does not want you to take him literally.

Authors can exaggerate, speak candidly, be sarcastic, or be in bad moods. This will effect the way we are to interpret them. This will also effect the “truth” that they are teaching. For example, Paul says that “all Cretans are liars” (Tit. 1:12). Does this mean, since it is in the Bible, that at the time Paul wrote this every individual who lived in Crete continually lied? No. We use exaggeration as rhetoric all the time. We don’t intend people to take us literally.

Another example is in Paul’s first letter to Timothy. He says about false teachers: “If anyone advocates a different doctrine and does not agree with sound words, those of our Lord Jesus Christ, and with the doctrine conforming to godliness, he is conceited and understands nothing” (1Ti 6:3-4). The Greek word used for “nothing” is meden. It means “no thing” or “nothing.” (Wow!) Does this mean that in order to be faithful to the truthfulness of Scripture, we have to take Paul literally here? Does this mean that the false teachers did not understand what 2+2 is? Of course not. The meden is limited to what Paul is talking about. It is a rhetorical overstatement—hyperbole—that Paul uses for effect. The false teachers did not understand anything with regard to the doctrines which they were teaching.

The Bible can record using figurative language. While it is true that God, in his essence, does not have eyes (though he can see better than anyone), anthropomorphic language is very common in the Bible.

5. Sometimes the Bible records falsehood.

I was at a website the other day that had a daily Scripture at the top of the page. This particular day it had Matt. 4:9 “All of this I will give to you if you will worship me.” Out of context, that looks fine. God will give us many blessings if we worship him. The problem is that this is a quotation from Satan when he tempted Christ! This verse is in the Bible, but it is not true. We need to be careful that we are mindful of who is talking, when, and how their words are to be understood. I hear people quoting Job’s friends all the time as evidence for certain characteristics of God. But Job’s friends are not presented in a positive light. Some of what they say is true, but much is wrong—even if it is in the Bible.

When interpreted correctly, I believe that the Bible always speaks the truth. However, when proper hermeneutics (bible study methods) are not used, the Bible does not always speak the true. If the Bible says it, this simply means that God wanted whatever it says to be included. We believe that the Bible is true in whatever it teaches, but whatever it says is not always meant to teach in the way we often assume. Be careful with God’s word. It is the most wonderful book in the world, but it is also the most dangerous.Similar Posts:

• "The Bible Says it, therefore it's True" . . . And Other Stupid Statements
• Bible Interpretation In a Nutshell
• How to Study the Bible in a Nutshell
• In Defense of Sola Scriptura – Part Four – What Did John Believe?
• Case Studies in Inerrancy: A New P&P Series

When the police officer approached my window, I had my driver’s license in hand in hopes that he would not ask me for my insurance card. Yes, I have insurance, but I did not know where the card was. What I did know was that I was getting pulled over for my tag, which had expired in August of last year.

“Do you know why I am pulling you over?” the police officer asked.

“Yeah, my tag has been expired for a while,” I responded in a whining voice that tried to convey a strong hint of self-abasement. “As a matter of fact,” I continued, “I just got pulled over and got a warning a few days ago for this same thing and was going to get a tag when I get paid next.”

“Do you have that warning?” he asked.

Both my daughter and I looked and looked for the warning, but could not find it. Now, here is what you must know: I had just lied and was attempting to manipulate the officer just a slight bit. While it was true I got a warning for my expired tag, it was not just “a few days ago,” but about three weeks ago. Basically, I wanted the officer to say, “Oh, you just got a warning? Okay, well make sure you get this taken care of.”

After a few minutes of sitting in his car and doing whatever officers do between the period of window confrontation ending with “I’ll be right back” and the revelation of whether or not you are going to get a ticket, he returned. Yep, I got a ticket. And to my shame he said, “All I could find as far as a warning was one three weeks ago.” Busted. Implied in his statement was, “You had plenty of time between now and then to get your tag renewed.”

After this, I drove home and confessed to my daughter the wrong things I had done, both the lie and the reason for the ticket itself.

That is my version of the story. It has certain intentions and a certain angle. Many things I could have included that I left out and many “summaries” of conversations and events were preferred. However, if my daughter told the story it may be a bit different.  For example, she may put it this way:

“My dad got pulled over last night. His tag expired. I was scared. When the cop came up, we looked for a warning that he had gotten on June 4th. I looked and looked for it and finally found it! It was so hard to find. But it was really weird. My dad just put it under his leg and did not show the police officer, even though he acted like he wanted to find it before. Anyway, my dad got a ticket for having an expired tag.

As you read these two accounts, some of you recognize that they are both saying the same basic things. I got pulled over and got a ticket for an expired tag. However, others will notice some significant differences. Among those of you to whom the differences stand out, there are those who find the differences to be contradictory, and those of you who see the differences as rounding out the narrative through differing perspectives, both true. Finally, among those who see contradictions, I seriously doubt that any of you disbelieve the main points are true: I got pulled over and got a ticket for an expired tag.

When it comes to the Scripture, many of these same issues come into play. This is especially the case with the Gospel accounts (but is not limited to them). There are four Gospels, all telling the same story, albeit from different perspectives. Some of these differences are slight, like those in the “synoptic” Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke, who all used the same sources), while some are much more dramatic (John is 92% original).

Just like with the story I told above, there are various approaches on how to handle the differences.

Group one neither recognizes nor cares about the differences, but immediately sees that it’s the same story from differing perspectives.

Group two recognizes the differences and appreciates what they add to the entire story.

Group three recognizes the differences, sees them as contradictions that cannot be reconciled, but still believes the main points of the Gospels (among other things, that Jesus, the Son of God, became incarnate, performed miracles, died on the cross, and rose from the grave).

However, unlike with my illustration concerning my encounter with the police officer, we have a fourth group when it comes to the story of Christ:

Group four recognizes the differences, sees them as contradictions that cannot be reconciled and, because of these differences, rejects everything in the Gospels, even the main points about which all the Gospels agree. In other words, if one thing is wrong, it’s all wrong.

Why? Why do we have a “group four” when it comes to the Christ story, but we would not expect to have a (sane) group four when it comes to my ticket story?

Concerning my ticket story, most certainly group four would see the elements of historicity in the account:

-Elements of embarrassment: I, a Christian minister, got a ticket; I lied to the officer about the warning. (Why would I lie about this?)

-Irrelevant details: I described in detail much of the conversation between the officer and me; I told about how embarrassed I was to get pulled over; I said it happened right after I taught on the history of orthodoxy.

-Collaborative evidence: My daughter’s testimony, which confirms the main points.

But what if group four looked at my account of how I could not find the warning ticket, compared it to Katelynn’s telling that the warning was located, and rejected the entire story because of this? What if they said that Katelynn’s version said I got the warning June 4th, but mine said “three weeks ago,” and concluded that the entire thing was made up? What if they said that in my version, the policeman came up “to the window,” whereas in Katelynn’s version, there is no mention of a window, therefore the whole thing was a fabrication? What if they said that Katelynn’s version was evidently based upon later traditions, since it has the “leg variant” (you know, where I put the warning under my leg), but there is no mention of the warning being placed under my leg in the “earlier” (my) tradition?

Of course we would be right to look at this and say that all those in group four need a bit of counseling, as they are reading the differences in a hyper-skeptical way. At the very least, group fourers are not the type of people to whom we would like to be married.

Interestingly enough, there are quite a few of the group four types in biblical studies. Unfortunately, people are often persuaded that their methodology is legitimate when it comes to the Christ story, even though they would never entertain such hyper-skepticism in real life.

Why are there so many group four types when it comes to the Bible? What do the differences in the Gospels really prove?Similar Posts:

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For example, we understand that Abraham did not have access to any of the Old Testament. His sources for theological inquiry had to come from other places. David, on the other hand, had much of the Old Testament to draw from, including the story of Abraham. We would assume that David’s understanding of the Gospel was more fully developed than Abraham’s. Abraham’s was most certainly more developed than Adam. Isaiah’s was more developed than any of these. Why? Because he had a fuller complement of understanding, both from time and the fuller complement of God’s revealed word. Yet Daniel had even more than Isaiah! You see where I am going.

So far so good?

Now let us move to the New Testament. I am sure that you would not have any problems with assertions that the Apostles in training while under the tutelage of Christ were less theologically astute and aware than the post-resurrection Apostles. No one would dare immortalize Peter’s rebuke of Christ’s revelation of his impending crucifixion (Matt. 16:21-23), believing it to be correct and Christ in error. We understand that the Apostle Peter was wrong and, with regard to the theology of the Gospel, a novice. We give him grace. We understand that Peter’s sermon in Acts 2 presents a bold and corrective advancement in his theology. We allow for this kind of development.

Normally, people would assume that after the resurrection and the receiving of the Holy Spirit early in Acts that everything the Apostles said and believed was not only correct, but representative of the fullness of the truth. We often assume that, at this time, there was no further need for any development in their understanding.

However, I am not completely convinced of this. In fact, I believe that, like with the authors of the Old Testament, the New Testament authors developed in their theology. In fact, I don’t necessarily believe that any of them, even Paul, had it all figured out the way we often suppose. I think that we sometimes read into their thoughts and writings a theology that, while correct, is not fully representative of the way they would have understood it, much less expressed it.

Why would we start with such an assumption? What need is there? We don’t do so with the Old Testament, why do we with the New Testament?

What kind of doctrine develops?

Let us start with something easy. I think that all of us would be willing to admit that, in Acts, there is a belief that Christ is coming in the lifetime of the Apostles. In Acts 1 the Apostles ask if it is now that Christ is restoring his kingdom to Israel (Acts 1:6). Christ tells them, essentially, that they are not going to know the timing of his kingdom. Therefore, should we not expect them to speak with some degree of ignorance about this throughout the book of Acts and in other letters? In Acts 3:19, it seems that Peter had an expectation of immediate eschatological fulfillment of the coming of the Lord. Paul often seems to express the same expectation. For example in Romans 13:11-12, Paul exhorts the Romans to righteous living based upon this expectation: ” Do this, knowing the time, that it is already the hour for you to awaken from sleep; for now salvation is nearer to us than when we believed. 12 The night is almost gone, and the day is near. Therefore let us lay aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light (NAU). As well, notice in 1 Cor. 7:29 that Paul exhorts virgins not to get married because, in his opinion (? see 1 Cor. 7:25), “the time has been shortened” (v. 29). Peter, in 1 Pet. 4:7, says “the end of all things is at hand.” However, we don’t notice much development beyond this. Obviously, at the time of the Apostles death, they developed to the point that they knew the coming of Christ was not going to be in their lifetime!

As well, we know that Peter still struggled, post-Pentecost, with his prejudice concerning the inclusion of the Gentiles in God’s plan. It was not until Acts 10 that Peter comes the the full realization that the Gentiles are included in the kingdom plan. But even after this, he has a hard time accepting it as evidenced by his confrontation with Paul (Gal. 2:11-14). Therefore, we know that Peter’s doctrine was still in development even after the receiving of his Apostleship and the Holy Spirit.

As well, Peter talks about his struggle understanding Paul’s writing (2 Pet 3:16). Isn’t that a relief? Peter—the Apostle Peter—admits that there were things that Paul said that caused him to scratch his head. More important are the implications. Peter admit that he is learning from Paul, therefore, Peter admits ignorance about certain things. What things? He does not tell us, but more than likely these were doctrinal issues. Peter was advancing in his theology by his own (implied) admittance.

Things get a little more controversial when we move to other more specific and cardinal issues. . .

For example, could it be that the Apostles developed in their Christiology and Trinitarian understanding of God. Could it be that the Apostles and writers of the New Testament struggled in their early writings to understand what it meant that Christ was God’s Son and how to integrate that into their monotheistic worldview? Could it be that we have indications of this struggle in their writings? This is a very difficult proposal to make for me, but I believe that this type of intra-canonical development in the New Testament is perfectly consistent with a view of inerrancy.

All three historic traditions of Christianity (Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Eastern Orthodox) believe that a Trinitarian understanding of God’s nature is true and essential to the Christian worldview. Our trinitarian formula goes something like this: We believe in one God who eternally exists in three persons, all of whom are fully God all of whom are equal. However, many Christians have often scratched their heads wondering why there is not a more explicit testimony to the doctrine of the Trinity in such a form if the doctrine is so essential. In fact, it seems to have bothered some scribe so much that he added his own explicit statement of the of the Trinity to the Bible which made it into the KJV!

The question is, Why isn’t there a more explicit statement about the Trinity in the New Testament? There could be many factors at play here.

For one, while the authors of the New Testament wrestled with many doctrinal issues including the resurrection of the dead (1 Cor 15), legalism (Gal.), God’s faithfulness (Rom. 9-11), and Christ’s humanity (1 John), it is possible that with regard to Christ’s deity, the culture was fully willing to integrate this teaching as much of the culture was already polytheistic (not that the Trinity is polytheistic!). But this begs the question concerning the Jews who were monotheistic. Would not there have been some controversy among them? Hence the lack of explicit references?

But it could also be that the Apostles themselves were wrestling with this conviction. There are plenty of statements about the deity of Christ in the New Testament (Jn. 1:1, 18, 8:58–59, 10:30–33, 20:28; Acts 20:28; Rom. 9:5; 1 Tim. 3:15–16; 2 Thes. 1:12; Tit. 2:13; 2 Pet. 1:1; Heb. 1:8; Phil. 2:6; Col. 1:15–17, 2:9). Fewer about the Holy Spirit, and very few that attempt to put all of these together in a systematic whole. However, concerning the doctrine of the Trinity, it is interesting how developed the Apostle John is in this regard. In the “Upper Room Discourse” (John 14-17) we have some of the most specific and developed theological discourse about the Trinity in the Bible. Certainly, this discourse was given many years prior to John’s recording, but it is interesting that John, in the 90′s (the most accepted date for the book of John), in one of the latest books of all the New Testament, includes this discourse while the others don’t. As well, all would admit that the book of John (and Revelation) have what could be considered the highest Christology in the whole Bible. Could it be that John had a better grasp of and comfort with the doctrine Trinity than anyone else?

But even then, we would have to admit that John’s own understanding is only in a sort of “proto-” form that the historic church would later develop further.

These are the types of issues with which we must wrestle.

All of this to ask some important questions. How does this affect the doctrine of inspiration and, more specifically, inerrancy. I have already expressed my comfort in holding to this kind of intra-canonical development and inerrancy. However, this causes me to nuance my view of inerrancy and my hermeneutic (method of Biblical interpretation). I believe that while all of the apostles are correct in everything they said (being inerrant), this does not make them omniscient in their knowledge or complete in their understanding. I believe that we have to look at the canon as a whole to responsibly systematize our doctrines.

See Dan Wallace’s writing on this here.

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1 Sam. 26:5-16:
5 David then arose and came to the place where Saul had camped. And David saw the place where Saul lay, and Abner the son of Ner, the commander of his army; and Saul was lying in the circle of the camp, and the people were camped around him.
6 Then David said to Ahimelech the Hittite and to Abishai the son of Zeruiah, Joab’s brother, saying, “Who will go down with me to Saul in the camp?” And Abishai said, “I will go down with you.”
7 So David and Abishai came to the people by night, and behold, Saul lay sleeping inside the circle of the camp with his spear stuck in the ground at his head; and Abner and the people were lying around him.
8 Then Abishai said to David, “Today God has delivered your enemy into your hand; now therefore, please let me strike him with the spear to the ground with one stroke, and I will not strike him the second time.”
9 But David said to Abishai, “Do not destroy him, for who can stretch out his hand against the LORD’S anointed and be without guilt?”
10 David also said, “As the LORD lives, surely the LORD will strike him, or his day will come that he dies, or he will go down into battle and perish.
11 “The LORD forbid that I should stretch out my hand against the LORD’S anointed; but now please take the spear that is at his head and the jug of water, and let us go.”
12 So David took the spear and the jug of water from beside Saul’s head, and they went away, but no one saw or knew it, nor did any awake, for they were all asleep, because a sound sleep from the LORD had fallen on them.
13 Then David crossed over to the other side and stood on top of the mountain at a distance with a large area between them.
14 David called to the people and to Abner the son of Ner, saying, “Will you not answer, Abner?” Then Abner replied, “Who are you who calls to the king?”
15 So David said to Abner, “Are you not a man? And who is like you in Israel? Why then have you not guarded your lord the king? For one of the people came to destroy the king your lord.
16 “This thing that you have done is not good. As the LORD lives, all of you must surely die, because you did not guard your lord, the LORD’S anointed. And now, see where the king’s spear is and the jug of water that was at his head.”
(NASU)

I wonder if you notice the issue. It is not easy to find, but it is very interesting (at least to me). Here we have David, the heroic and God fearing protagonist, being in error. I will explain the error in just a moment.

Let me give you some background to my hermeneutics (method of interpretation): Generally, I follow a rule in narrative portions of Scripture. I allow for error in the “bad guys” but don’t expect it from the “good guys.” In other words, when the Bible has put someone in a positive or authoritative light (such as Peter in Acts 2), most of the time what they say can be trusted. For example, when Daniel (who is a very flat yet godly character) speaks, there is not any reason to think that what he says contains error. Therefore, we can build doctrine from it. With “bad guys,” such as Satan, Nebuchadnezzar, and Job’s friends, it is hard to know whether to believe what they are saying.

Now, back to our current passage. David here is at the height of his heroic ventures. It is not possible for him to be in a more Godly light. He is the one who trusts the Lord. He is the one who will not usurp authority from “God’s anointed.” He, as we follow the narrative, is the one who acts on behalf of God. So there is no question as to his status at this point in the narrative. However, David makes a false accusation against Abner and calls for his execution based on this false accusation. Abner had fallen asleep and failed to protect King Saul when David took the spear from where he slept. David goes a distance away and brings an indictment against Abner for not protecting the King implying that it was his negligence. But the text tells us that it was not Abner’s fault. Verse 12 says that the Lord was responsible for Abner’s inability to protect the King: “So David took the spear and the jug of water from beside Saul’s head, and they went away, but no one saw or knew it, nor did any awake, for they were all asleep, because a sound sleep from the LORD had fallen on them” (Emphasis mine). David, in verse 16, says wrongly to Abner: “This thing that you have done is not good. As the LORD lives, all of you must surely die, because you did not guard your lord, the LORD’S anointed.”

So David was in error and called for the wrongful execution of the King’s guard.

You may say to me that this has no theological relevance one way or another and is incidental to the story. I would agree. However, we must let this story nuance our understanding of inerrancy a bit. My definition of inerrancy is that the Bible, when interpreted correctly, is true in everything that it intends to teach. My assumption is that not everything in the Bible is intending to teach something. Like here, there are many things that might be incidental to the main story line. Most importantly, the main characters can be in error in these incidentals. That is as far as I am willing to go with this right now.

The question becomes: could the main character in a narrative, when presented in a positive light in the story, be wrong about doctrinal issues as well as historical issues? In other words, is what the main character says aways what the Bible is intending to teach or can it be that the Bible is simply accurately recording what the main character says without putting a theological stamp of approval on it? I am going to leave this one alone for now, but we will look deeper into this when we look at James in Acts 15.

I do, however, want you to notice two things particular to this passage: 

1. The text does bring light to the narrative by giving the reader an insider’s understanding of what actually happened. Therefore, we might be able to create a tentative rule that says this: We can assume that the protagonist of a narrative, when presented in a positive light, always speaks truly unless the text states otherwise. I am not sure that this will aways work though.

2. It was David, a character in the narrative, who was wrong, not the author of the book of 1 Samuel. This is important to notice. The author of Samuel was accurate in his understanding and accounting of the event. Therefore, there is no actual error in the text, only from David, a character of the story.

Ultimately, this is an issue of interpretation, not necessarily inerrancy. However, this does help us to adjust a bit in our understanding of what inerrancy means. Inerrancy does not always, in my opinion, guarantee the truthfulness of the characters in narratives, even when they are godly heroes.Similar Posts:

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One of the first questions that I asked at seminary was how do we know when a passage in the Bible is supposed to be believed? In other words, the Bible records falsehoods, lies, and wrong actions. When David committed adultery, this was a record of a wrong action. When Peter said he did not know who Christ was, this was a lie. Then there is Samson, Jonah, and Lot. And don’t even get me started on Solomon. All of whom are presented in a shady light in the narrative yet are, generally speaking, heroes of Scripture and of our faith. How are we to know what examples to follow? With Job and his “friends”: when are we supposed to trust what they say and when do we assume that they got it wrong. Who creates the rules? I have seen a number of teachers quote Job’s friends when teaching theology. Wait…I thought they were bad. So they are bad and can be trusted at times? As well, Job himself seems to say some good things that we like to quote and other things that we write off to his distress. Oh the the difficulties in interpretation. Sometimes it is hard to know what the Scripture is actually teaching.

That is why I am starting this new series called “Case Studies in Inerrancy.” I am going to attempt to open up the discussion a bit concerning the doctrine of inerrancy to demonstrate that things get a little messy sometimes. Most importantly, I want to illustrate how the doctrine of inerrancy does not assume one particular hermeneutic (method of interpretation). In other words, often when people approach the Scripture with an assumption of inerrancy it causes them to nuance their hermeneutic. This then produces a sort of ”hermeneutic of inerrancy” where the preservation of inerrancy becomes the goal rather than the correct interpretation of Scripture.

My goal with this series to present some case studies of particular passages that will help us nuance our understanding of inerrancy around our hermeneutic rather than nuancing our hermeneutic around inerrancy.

Let me start with this question to get the discussion rolling: In the narrative portions of Scripture, how do you know when we are supposed to trust what is being said?

Take Peter for example. In Acts of the Apostles, is everything Peter says fit for doctrine or are there times when we say that he is wrong? We know that before Acts Peter was not the best example. At what point did he become an example? How reliable is he in Acts? What rules do we follow?

What about with Job? Is everything he says correct and his friends wrong? Or does Job say some wrong things? Does his friends says some correct things? What are your rules for determining what is correct in Scripture and what is wrong?Similar Posts:

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