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That the Bible teaches the doctrine of election/predestination (henceforth, election) is not at issue for the Christian. All Christians believe in election. After all, it is in the Bible! The question is not, Does the Bible teach election? but, What does election mean?

There are two primary positions with regard to the doctrine of election:

Conditional Election: God’s election is based on the foreseen faith of the individual. God “elects” people because they first choose him. (There are other variations, but the essence is the same.)

Unconditional Election: God’s election is not based on anything in the individual, but on God’s mysterious sovereign choice. This choice is not without reason but is unconditioned with regard to any foreseen goodness in the elect.

Although I understand the sting that unconditional election brings, I am a very strong advocate of unconditional election. This is not necessarily because I believe it is the understanding that I am most comfortable with or because I think it creates that least amount of problems, but because I believe it is what the Scripture teaches. I try to follow my own dictum, the palatability of a doctrine does not determine its veracity.

Of all the passages that teach unconditional election, there are a few that take priority. And there is one that stands out more than any. While I can see and understand how people might interpret other “election” passages differently, this one is one that I simply cannot explain outside of a Calvinist worldview–Romans 9. I believe that the plain reading of this passage tells us that Paul believed in what is to most a radical doctrine that seems both bizarre and unfair.

Here is the passage:

Romans 9:6-24: It is not as though God’s word had failed. For not all who are descended from Israel are Israel. 7 Nor because they are his descendants are they all Abraham’s children. On the contrary, “It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned.” 8 In other words, it is not the natural children who are God’s children, but it is the children of the promise who are regarded as Abraham’s offspring. 9 For this was how the promise was stated: “At the appointed time I will return, and Sarah will have a son.”10 Not only that, but Rebekah’s children had one and the same father, our father Isaac. 11 Yet, before the twins were born or had done anything good or bad—in order that God’s purpose in election might stand: 12 not by works but by him who calls—she was told, “The older will serve the younger.” 13 Just as it is written: “Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated.”

14 What then shall we say? Is God unjust? Not at all! 15 For he says to Moses, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.” 16 It does not, therefore, depend on man’s desire or effort, but on God’s mercy. 17 For the Scripture says to Pharaoh: “I raised you up for this very purpose, that I might display my power in you and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.” 18 Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden.

19 One of you will say to me: “Then why does God still blame us? For who resists his will?” 20 But who are you, O man, to talk back to God? “Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’ ” 21 Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?

22 What if God, choosing to show his wrath and make his power known, bore with great patience the objects of his wrath—prepared for destruction? 23 What if he did this to make the riches of his glory known to the objects of his mercy, whom he prepared in advance for glory— 24 even us, whom he also called, not only from the Jews but also from the Gentiles?

Background/Context

We must understand some contextual background here. In Romans 9, Paul is defending the security of a believer in God’s love that was put forth in Romans 8. Remember, he ended that chapter by saying that there was nothing that could separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Continue Reading »

I wanted to take this opportunity to announce the release of a new monograph that deals especially with the deity of Christ, and especially from a grammatical perspective. Based on my doctoral dissertation but with significantly more material and thoroughly updated, Granville Sharp’s Canon and Its Kin: Semantics and Significance was published last week by Peter Lang. If you’re familiar with Sharp’s Rule, which was articulated especially in relation to Christ’s deity, you will understand the need for Sharp’s name in the title. (This announcement is timely, too, since it’s Sharp’s birthday! He’s 273 years old.) The monograph represents about 25 years of research, off and on, and touches on some key passages such as Titus 2:13 and 2 Peter 1:1. It’s available at Amazon. But since it is an academic book, it’s a bit pricey: $69.95.

Besides affirming the deity of Christ in both of these passages, the book deals with constructions that do not fit Sharp’s rule and thus have a different force. “Pastors and teachers” in Eph 4:11 and “apostles and prophets” in Eph 2:20 are discussed at length, for example. In neither of these passages is it likely that the groups are identical. The fact that the book came out after Gordon Fee’s magisterial Pauline Christology has afforded me the opportunity to interact with Fee’s arguments that “our great God and Savior” refer to the Father rather than the Son. I disagree with him on this, and argue that the epithet speaks of Jesus Christ.

Unfortunately, the book had several typos in the Greek due to some font issues at the printer’s. But a corrigenda sheet will accompany each hard copy so that you can spot the errors and make the corrections. If you write to me (dbw@csntm.org), I can send you the corrigenda sheet (in case you buy a copy that was already dispatched to the reseller before the typos were detected).
The monograph will be on sale at the Society of Biblical Literature’s annual meeting coming up in Boston later this month.

Three days after I came home from our first expedition of the season (to Albania and Greece), I took off again—this time, on a road trip. With two other guys, we drove north to Ann Arbor to photograph the Greek New Testament manuscripts at the University of Michigan. UM boasts the largest collection of Greek NT MSS in America: 1 out 6 MSS are in their collection! We will be photographing all of them except for the papyri which have already been digitized.

Two teams went to Ann Arbor this week. Four people flew in and four drove. We are a little slow in setting up, but the library has cooperated marvelously with us. We are occupying four tables in the manuscript room—about one third of the whole room! Altogether, there are over 20,000 images to shoot. But to date, far and away the most challenging manuscript has been codex 2364, or shelf number MS 182. For starters, this is an ultra-tiny manuscript. It measures 3.5 inches by 2.75 inches—barely larger than the fragmentary leaf known as P52. Think of a 3 x 5 card and cut it in half. That’s pretty close to the size of this document. But it’s also just as thick as it is tall!

The text is 12th–13th century, and it includes the four Gospels. Yes, all of them. The handwriting is so small that it’s hard to believe that such delicate work could have been achieved eight hundred years ago. I am not sure how it would have been done; if anyone has a clue, I’d appreciate the information. The font size is about 3 points. It looks like this. So, not only is it difficult to imagine someone producing this text, it is also difficult to imagine the kind of person who could read it.

I prepared the manuscript for photography. It barely opens wide enough to photograph, which presents its own challenges. But in order to prep the manuscript, I had to measure dimensions, document content, check on the date, confirm shelf number, note how many columns and lines per column it has, record its material (parchment or paper), and list any other important material. Most manuscripts’ leaves are numbered, although there are almost always mistakes with these numbers. Usually a page is skipped or two others in sequence have the same number. The ‘wee beastie’ as we are affectionately calling this tiny text is unnumbered. This creates a significant problem for photography: we must have the same amount of recto (right) side images as verso (left) side images. If we don’t, then we have to go back through the manuscript and find the error. If we accidentally duplicate a page, it might take us 10–15 minutes to find out where. If we skip a page, it might take us double that time. The wee beastie needed to be numbered very, very accurately—yet we are not allowed to write the number in pencil in the text (which most manuscripts have). So, I took slips of paper, marked with the leaf numbers, and placed them after every ten leaves. After triple and quadruple checking every section, I was satisfied that I had probably gotten the leaf count right. (I ended up being wrong twice!) It came to an astounding 492 leaves. That computes to 984 pages! That was a challenge just to prepare for shooting.

We learned that Wee Beastie had never been microfilmed before. One of the librarians tried to take a few pictures of it recently, but gave up quickly. When I told her our nickname for the manuscript, she said that she had a much more vulgar term!

Finally, the photographers took their turn. The first 61 leaves are on paper—the text was written out in a much later hand to replace the leaves that had disappeared over the centuries. These leaves are made of paper. But starting on leaf 62, the manuscript is parchment. This continues on until leaf 326, when it reverts to paper. Just over half the manuscript is thus on the original parchment, while the rest is replacement leaves.

The binding is tight, which means that the photographers can’t open it very far. And with a tiny manuscript, even the slightest jostling of the table, even a gust coming across the manuscript as someone walks by, can cause the letters to blur. Further, the f-stop needs to be set very high so as to maximize depth of field focus. The higher the f-stop, the greater depth of focus can be achieved. But it comes at a price: the higher the f-stop, the longer the shutter is open. The reason this is necessary is because we’re dealing with proportions: a relatively flat page on a large manuscript that varies, say, ¼” across its face can be shot at a lower f-stop because proportionately it doesn’t vary very much. But on a tiny manuscript, the same variation is proportionately equal to a 1-2” dip in the page! We had to use f-16 for Wee Beastie; it requires a good five seconds of exposure for each page.

Three people were needed to shoot the manuscript: one computer operator and two ‘page turners.’ One person holds the manuscript in place by using one hand as a block to keep the manuscript from moving. She puts her hand under the black cloth, and with her other hand holds the verso side at a right angle to the page being shot. Another person holds the recto side in place, making sure to keep the fingers from getting in the way of the text. Small hands are needed for this work! And because the vellum leaves are so thin, a white sheet of paper needs to be placed behind the vellum on every shot. The text in many places has etched through the vellum so that only a silhouette of each letter can be discerned. The whole thing looks like a miniature stencil.

Tomorrow, we should be done shooting the Wee Beastie—a manuscript that has heretofore never been photographed and hardly ever read. And when the photography is done, the work of transcription begins. But instead of having to read tiny text through a magnifying glass, we will be able to blow up each image to about 30 square feet without any pixilation! Our goal of making the photographs more readable than the original in this case will become an uncontested claim. And another copy of the Word of God will be accessible for research and study.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008. The day started at 11 am at the Greek Bible Institute in Pikermi, just outside of Athens. Late start because we thought driving to the famed monasteries of Meteora would take four hours. Four of us (Billy Todd, Tim Ricchuiti, Brian Wright, and Dan Wallace) shoehorned ourselves into a tiny car, and took off for the road north. But we were not prepared for what would await us today.

We took the E75 up the east coast of Greece’s mainland. For the most part, a very fine, modern highway. After we had traveled for about 2 & ½ hours, we got an email on Tim Ricchuiti’s cell phone from Jeff Baldwin, the director of the Greek Bible Institute and a former student of mine. Jeff grew up in Greece (his dad, Bill Baldwin, another Dallas Seminary grad, was the founder of the school decades ago) and is completely bilingual. He has many friends in low places (since he’s not Orthodox), but even low places here are sometimes high enough. As I said, we were headed for the monasteries built high up on top of rocks that ascend straight up into the heavens hundred of meters above the town below. We thought we would visit them today, and tomorrow see if we could examine some manuscripts there. The monasteries here have nearly 60 Greek New Testament manuscripts. In centuries past, the only way that people could get to the top of these rocks was to get pulled up on a rope. But once, when a rope broke, the rules changed. Now, there are steps to the heights. A veritable stairway to heaven. Led Zeppelin would be envious. We were eager with anticipation (as much as four Testoterone-laden eggheads can be). But the email from Jeff changed our plans instantly.

For the rest of the story, you’ll have to go to www.bible.org. The link to the essay is here.

I learned something really important on day two of the Greer-Heard Forum: fried fish and dark beer taste even better when you’re sitting around a bunch of theologues. Thoughts of blood barely trickling through my arteries were squeezed out by images of Martin Luther engaged in his famous "table talk" enjoying a catch from Katie’s fish pond and nursing a mug of her homemade brew. We didn’t have any famous scholars in our midst on Saturday night, but we were surrounded by great food and stimulating conversation about the theological controversies of our day. Indeed, the lectures we had heard just hours before provided plenty of grist for the mill.

Day two of the Forum featured Michael Holmes (Bethel University), Dale Martin (Yale University), David Parker (Birmingham University), and William Warren (New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary). Each man spoke for approximately 30 minutes, followed by 25 minutes of interaction with the keynotes, Ehrman and Wallace. In keeping with the spirit of the previous night’s dialog, Holmes and Warren took Wallace’s "side" while Martin and Parker were on Ehrman’s. Each lecture was quite different and made its own contribution, as I’ll try to briefly show below.

Michael Holmes
Holmes argued against three models of what the manuscripts would have looked like in the earliest period of copying—the models proposed by David Trobisch, William Peterson, and Kurt Aland. Trobisch suggests that by mid-second century there was controlled copying and that what was being copied was a canonical text somewhat different from the original text. There is no substantial evidence for this, and Wallace had already pointed out that this model fits the Qurâ’an better than the New Testament. Peterson has argued that the text had changed dramatically in the second century, but Holmes effectively debunked Peterson’s examples. Aland argued that every reading, both original and secondary, has been preserved somewhere in the manuscripts. However, Holmes showed that some readings were barely preserved, suggesting that there would be many that had not been.

Holmes’ basic point was that copying by its very nature is a conservative practice and that what the scribes would have done early on was good enough—good enough for preserving the essence of the original text and good enough for making clear what the original meant.

Ehrman responded that we can’t project back into the first century what happened in later centuries, but Holmes said that we have to go on the basis of evidence rather than conjecture. Wallace again brought up the relation of P75 to B and argued that we can see what some of the earliest copying practices would have looked like from those manuscripts. He also pointed out that the text of Mark that Luke and Matthew used is assumed to be almost identical to the original of Mark by virtually all redaction critics. Otherwise, they cannot make claims about Matthean motifs if such existed in Matthew’s previously corrupted copy of Mark. Ehrman continued to present himself as very skeptical about what we can know, while Wallace continued to take a moderating position: we cannot know for sure, but we need to base our views on what is most probable.

Dale Martin
Martin, who is one of Ehrman’s good friends (a point whose significance will soon be seen), was the only non-textual critic on the panel. He gave perhaps the liveliest lecture of the bunch. Although he was supposed to argue on behalf of Ehrman, he essentially ripped him for not having a theology of scripture, for leaving the faith with insufficient evidence to do so, and for ignoring interpretation and tradition too much. He especially picked on Ehrman’s spiritual journey. Though Martin unleashed a few curveballs, other aspects of his presentation were much less surprising. In addition to saying that scripture should be read for its narrative and not its theology, he declared that "the original text is a myth" and "there is no original text." Consequently, he argued that any work whose aim was to get back to the original (or the closest thing to it) was wrong-headed.

Ehrman responded first with the words, "Dale and I used to be friends"! He asked Martin why he thought it was appropriate to bring up Ehrman’s personal spiritual journey. Martin simply replied, "You made it public. You put it in your books." Indeed, Martin pointed out the fact that Ehrman chose to make his own spiritual journey the first chapter in two of his popular books, and thus set the tone for the whole of each book with his opening gambit. Ehrman’s spiritual journey was in print, in the very same books where he makes his most radical pontifications. So, according to Martin, it was fair game. Frankly, what Martin said about Ehrman made Wallace’s demonstration of Ehrman’s contradictions seem like a compliment by comparison! I think this clearly shows that Wallace was in no way using an ad hominem argument when he addressed Ehrman’s published views, especially since Wallace specifically said that he didn’t know what Ehrman’s views really are.

The exchange between Martin and Ehrman got a little heated at times. This made for an interesting scene, since Martin was on the right, Ehrman was on the left, and Wallace was stuck in the middle. Wallace was quiet for a long time, appearing to enjoy watching the volleys being tossed over his head. Finally, when the moderator asked if he’d like to say anything, Wallace asked, "Why should I? I’m having too much fun just observing" ! Wallace did, however, speak for a few minutes once the dust settled. He agreed with Martin that many evangelicals flirt with bibliolatry, that they often ignore both tradition and interpretation, and that they also can pour a later theology into the New Testament. But he criticized Martin’s argument about the myth of an original text: "Just because we don’t have one today doesn’t mean it didn’t exist at some point; the scribes were copying something."He also picked up on Martin’s narrative approach and asked that if it didn’t matter which manuscript was being read, then how could Martin explain that there are two more fairly lengthy narratives (John 7:53-8:11 and Mark 16:9-20) in the later manuscripts than in the earlier ones? Wallace followed that up by asking whether translators should simply not care which text they’re translating, suggesting that such a scenario would take us back to the days of Erasmus. Martin didn’t have enough time to respond to Wallace’s questions, but he acknowledged that they were significant and said he thought he could handle them all.

David Parker
Parker is one of the best textual critics in the world and has his own institute at the University of Birmingham in England. He has in recent years argued against trying to get back to an original text, even arguing that an original is irrelevant or meaningless since the original documents could have been modified significantly by the author several times. In such a case, which is the original? In his lecture he spoke about the work of Muenster and Birmingham of trying to get back to the earliest form of the text by using genealogical studies and tools to do so. He showed a couple of fascinating (but way too detailed) slides on this front, noting that scholars working on the human genome project have basically been involved in textual criticism, too. But he also argued that we can’t get back to the original, that it wasn’t particularly relevant, and that our job should simply be to get back to the earliest form.

Ehrman asked Parker why the earliest form was so important if it didn’t accurately reflect what an author wrote. Wallace pitched in and said that if Parker’s views are right, then not only should intrinsic evidence be abandoned but so should all of exegesis! He noted that Parker’s views are too narrowly focused, thinking of textual criticism as an end in itself. Parker simply said that he was not an exegete, just a textual critic.

It sure was interesting to hear Ehrman’s two team members arguing against his views! After all, when it came to Parker’s claims, Ehrman and Wallace were actually on the same side. (It’s also significant that much of what Ehrman has done in textual criticism is to appeal to intrinsic evidence, which presupposes that he has a pretty fair idea of what an author wrote.)

Bill Warren
Warren’s lecture was basically Textual Criticism 101. It would have been better placed, in my opinion, as the first lecture on Saturday, but since it was the last, people had already heard the gist of it many times over. Warren actually argued for tentativeness about several things. When Ehrman responded, he said that he basically had no problem with what Warren was saying. Wallace, however, said that he thought we could move toward greater certainty by observing what Matthew and Luke did with Mark. He used Mark 1:41 as a test-case, and enlisted Ehrman’s treatment of this in his argument. Here the text either says that Jesus was compassionate or angry when he healed a leper. Wallace noted that Matthew and Luke don’t have either word, but since they drop references to Jesus’ anger elsewhere while maintaining statements about Jesus’ compassion, Mark almost surely said that Jesus was angry in this place. If he had said that Jesus was compassionate, Matthew and Luke would surely have mentioned it. To borrow a cliche, their silence was deafening. But Wallace showed that, by using one of Ehrman’s favorite examples, textual critics are presupposing that we can get back essentially to the author’s words in order to do both redaction and textual criticism. Even Ehrman assumed this! And the fact that Wallace used an example from Mark—which Ehrman underscored as a book that had very few early copies, and thus could have been changed radically before it was found in our extant copies—showed that Ehrman’s skepticism about Mark in particular was unfounded. Wallace even mentioned p. 135 of Misquoting Jesus, where Ehrman had argued that even though we don’t have any second century copies of Mark, we do have books written within twenty years of Mark that utilize Mark.

Given its nature and placement, Warren’s lecture was the least invigorating of the weekend. But it did give Wallace a chance to articulate further his argument about Matthew and Luke’s use of Mark as a way for us to measure how the earliest copying of the manuscripts would have looked.

Ehrman’s Wrap-Up
Ehrman admitted that no cardinal belief of Christianity is affected by any variants (one of the chief points that Wallace had been arguing the whole weekend!). But he also said that since the second century is shrouded in mystery, and since almost all of our variants come from that period, the study of these variants is important and open to interpretation (as to which are closer to the original, why some variants arose, how the scribes went about their work, etc.).

Wallace’s Wrap-Up
Wallace likewise said that we can’t know exactly what the original text said, but we can have a bit more certainty than some skeptics would claim. He also argued that a high Christology was not the basic drive for the orthodox scribes; rather, historicity or harmonization in the Gospels was. (He gave a great illustration of this that would take too long to discuss here; get the recording!) Finally, Wallace summed up why he thought the study of the variants was important: because the Bible is the Word of God. Wallace was unashamed of his evangelical position on this, but he quickly added that he followed a doctrinal taxonomy that answers four questions:

1. What beliefs are essential for the life of the church?
2. What beliefs are important for the health of the church?
3. What beliefs are important for the proper functioning of a local church?
4. What beliefs should not be fought over, are speculative, and unimportant?

He pointed out the fact that textual criticism belongs to the last three categories, but that the Forum was essentially about numbers 2 and 3.

Q&A
The whole Forum concluded with some decent Q&A time. A couple of things really stuck out. First, a questioner asked Ehrman about his text-critical method, noting that Ehrman seemed to always find the least orthodox readings and argue that they were the original readings. What Ehrman said was, frankly, unbelievable. He basically said that he would find the reading that he liked, and then find the evidence to support it! This sure sounded as though he was starting from his conclusions rather than beginning with a question. Not surprisingly, some folks audibly gasped at this response.

Second, someone asked Wallace why he didn’t hold to a doctrine of preservation (which is something that he had mentioned earlier in the conference). He said that (1) the doctrine was recent, first articulated in the Westminster Confession; (2) the verses employed to support the doctrine don’t teach such a thing; and (3) the Old Testament text has not been completely preserved. There are, in fact, some places in which the Old Testament text requires some conjectures that have no manuscript basis whatsoever. Further, Wallace didn’t want to be a Marcionite, elevating the New Testament (in terms of inspiration) over the Old Testament. (In other words, he didn’t want to be bibliologically schizophrenic!) But, importantly, he added that although he had no doctrinal basis for believing in preservation, he has plenty of historical evidence that this is what God has essentially done.

I have argued in previous installments of this series that in John 10:28-30 Jesus claims to be “one†with the Father in the exercise of the divine prerogative and power of giving eternal life to the people of God and preserving them against any spiritual attack. Christ’s use of the monotheistic statement of YHWH in the Old Testament that he alone is God because no one can snatch them from his hand (Deut. 32:39; see also Is. 43:13), which Christ applies to himself and to the Father, sets us up to understand "I and the Father are one" also as an allusion to the Old Testament’s most famous monotheistic affirmation, the Shema (Deut. 6:4).

Those who deny that Jesus Christ is one God with the Father point to certain elements of the context to show that such an interpretation is mistaken. Immediately before Jesus’ famous statement in John 10:30, he states, "My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all (v. 29 ESV, HCSB, NASB, NET). Jesus says two things here about the Father that anti-Trinitarians often understand as implying that Jesus is not God.

First, Jesus says that the Father gave him his sheep. Why would the Father need to give the Son anything if he possesses it necessarily by virtue of his being God? This kind of question comes up repeatedly with reference to statements throughout the Gospel of John that express the Son’s dependence on the Father. The Son does what he sees the Father doing (5:19-20). The Son cannot do anything on his own, independent of the Father (5:19, 30; 8:28). The Father gives the Son life in himself (5:26) and the authority to judge (5:22, 27) and to give eternal life (17:2). The Son does the works that the Father gave him to do (5:36; 17:4). The Father gives the Son his people, his sheep (6:37, 39; 10:29; 17:2, 6, 9, 24). The Son’s teaching is not his alone but is the Father’s (7:16-17). He does not speak on his own (7:17; 14:10). He speaks what he hears from the Father who sent him (8:26; 15:15), from God (8:40), what the Father instructs him (8:28), commands him (12:49), and gave him (17:8) to say. The Son’s speech is the Father dwelling in him doing his works (14:10). He did not come on his own (8:42). The Father gave his name (17:11, 12) to the Son. He gave him glory (17:22). He also gave him the cup of sacrificial death (18:11). In short, the Son is apparently dependent on the Father for everything he has, says, and does. How, then, can the Son be considered in any way equal to God?

Classically, orthodox Christians have understood these statements to reflect the dependence of the Son on the Father that characterized him in his humiliation”that stage of the Incarnation that extended from his conception to his resurrection. By becoming a human being (John 1:14), the Son humbled himself, taking a position that entailed utter dependence on the Father for everything he had, said, and did. In some sense, the Son had left behind the glory that he had alongside the Father since before creation, a glory to which he was to return following his death and resurrection (John 12:16; 17:5). (Since the risen Christ is still human, orthodox theologians regard the period following his resurrection as a second stage of the Incarnation" the stage of exaltation.) During this first phase of the Incarnation, the Son’s entire modus operandi was to glorify the Father (John 7:18; 12:28; 15:8; 17:4). Jesus therefore credited his miracles as well as his speech to the Father. Thus, even when Jesus performed acts that revealed in some way his divine glory, he did so that the Father might be glorified through and in him (John 1:14; 2:11; 11:4, 40; 13:31-32; 14:13; 17:1).

This explanation is consistent with the fact that these numerous statements in John all appear to refer to the Son’s dependence on the Father during his mortal life on earth. Although the Gospel of John explicitly teaches that the Son existed as a divine person before becoming a human being (John 1:1-3, 10; 8:58; 13:3; 16:28; 17:5), all of the references to the Son’s dependence on the Father are statements by Jesus focused on giving the Father credit for the things Jesus was saying and doing at the time.

This classical Trinitarian interpretation would therefore understand these Johannine passages in much the same way as Christians historically have understood the famous "Christ hymn" in Philippians, which says that although Christ existed in God’s form, he humbled himself as a servant, becoming a man, and dying on the cross, after which God highly exalted him above all creation (Phil. 2:6-11). As the divine Son, Christ was entitled to the recognition, honor, and glorious privilege of God (v. 6), but he humbled himself for the Father’s glory (v. 11). In that state of humiliation, Christ depended on the Father as a servant depends on his master, and was therefore dependent on the Father to exalt him (v. 9).

There is much to commend this line of thinking, and I think it is right, or at least mostly right. Some Trinitarians, however, think that a qualification is in order. They argue that it is a mistake to limit the force of all of these statements in John to the period of Christ’s humiliation. They suggest that the Son’s dependence on the Father in the Incarnation, though perhaps deepened or radicalized by his humiliation as a mortal human, should be understood as in some way revelatory of the eternal relationship of the Son to the Father. The theological maxim that expresses this view is that the economic Trinity reveals the ontological Trinity: how the incarnate Son relates to the Father in space-time reveals something of the relationship between the Son and the Father in eternity. We might put it this way: the fact that the Father sent the Son into the world, rather than the other way around, is not an accident. It is not as though the three persons of the Trinity drew straws to determine who would become a man and die on the cross. There is something appropriate and fitting about the Son coming on behalf of the Father. The very titles "Father" and "Son" indicate an asymmetrical relationship between the two persons, such that it is proper and fitting that the Father sent the Son, that the Son seeks to do the will of the Father, etc., and not the other way around.

I think there is some support for this qualification to the classical view in something that Jesus in the Gospel of John says about the Holy Spirit: "When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you" (John 16:13-14). Here Jesus says that the Holy Spirit "will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears." This statement says about the Holy Spirit exactly what Jesus had earlier stated about himself: "Anyone who resolves to do the will of God will know whether the teaching is from God or whether I am speaking on my own" (John 7:17). "The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own" (John 14:10). "I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father" (John 15:15). Jesus also says that the Holy Spirit will glorify him (that is, glorify Jesus, the Son), rather than the Spirit glorifying himself" just as Jesus came not to glorify himself but to glorify the Father. Yet the Holy Spirit clearly does not become incarnate or otherwise experience a "humiliation" comparable to the Son becoming a human being. Thus, it may well be that the "dependence" language in John is not merely or exclusively a function of the humiliation of Jesus’ coming in the flesh, but more broadly reveals the Son as acting on the Father’s behalf.

The instructive parallel of the Holy Spirit also shows that this dependence language does not imply inferiority of nature. We cannot plausibly understand Jesus to mean that the Holy Spirit remains ignorant of some truth until Jesus imparts it to him, or that the Spirit is inferior to Jesus. Rather, when Jesus says that the Holy Spirit does not speak on his own but speaks what he hears from Jesus, he means that the Holy Spirit’s ministry of revelation will be performed for the purpose of revealing and glorifying the Son. Jesus’ coming into the world as a mortal human being is indeed a special act of humiliation, but it appears that humility is a virtue or moral attribute that characterizes the divine persons of the Trinity. The Son comes to glorify the Father, the Father for his part glorifies the Son, and the Holy Spirit comes to glorify the Son.

The second thing we need to discuss that Jesus says in John 10:29 (according to most scholars) is that the Father is greater than all. (There are textual variants here, and the NRSV adopts the strange reading “What my Father has given me is greater than all else."If this reading turns out to be correct, the statement would be describing the sheep as greater than anything else" an odd statement, but one that clearly could not pose any objection to viewing Christ as God. I will, however, for the sake of argument assume that the majority view is correct here.) Anti-Trinitarians assume that Jesus is including himself in saying that the Father is greater than everyone" that is, that the Father is greater than Jesus. And that may well be. We know that Jesus could make such a statement, since he does so explicitly in John 14:28, "the Father is greater than I." If so, Jesus in both of these passages would be saying that the Father was greater than he was. Does this contradict the idea that he is God? Again, not necessarily, if we understand these statements in the context of the Son’s humiliation in becoming a mortal human being. On the other hand, it is probably not the case that the two statements should be equated in this way.

In John 14, Jesus looks forward to his return to the Father’s presence and to the sending of the Holy Spirit to the disciples, through whom even "greater" things would take place than the miracles Jesus had performed in the ministry of his earthly humiliation (v. 12). This statement clearly does not mean that the disciples would be greater than Jesus or even that they would do greater works than Jesus, because it would in fact be Jesus, through the Holy Spirit he was going to send to them, working within them to do those greater works, bringing glory to the Father and the Son (vv. 13-21). It is in this context of the Son’s exaltation and return to heaven and of the Spirit’s descent to the disciples that Jesus encourages his disciples to rejoice that he was going to the Father, "because the Father is greater than I" (vv. 26-28). Jesus’ ministry was limited by virtue of his living in mortal flesh; he was about to expand his ministry immeasurably by returning to the Father, whose greatness was not limited by the Incarnation, and sending the Spirit. Thus, Jesus affirms the relative greatness of the Father not as a denial of Jesus’ own divine identity but as an expression of his humiliation and radical dependence on the Father in the period leading up to his death.

When we look again at John 10:29, it is evident that Jesus is not denying divine power or identity. Jesus has just affirmed that no one could snatch the sheep from his hand (v. 28), and he now affirms that likewise no one can snatch them from the Father’s hand. In this context Jesus reminds his hearers that of course the Father is greater than everyone. No one can snatch the sheep from the Father’s hand because there is no one greater than the Father who could pull off such a feat. But then Jesus, far from drawing the supposedly obvious conclusion that he was inferior in power to the Father, makes the opposite assertion: "I and the Father are one" (v. 30). In context this can only reasonably mean, at the very least, that Jesus and the Father are perfectly one in their exercise of divine power to preserve the sheep and repel all attacks against them. "The Father is greater than all, so that no one can withstand him" but Jesus is one with the Father, so that no one can withstand him, either. Thus, in context, Jesus in John 10:29 is not saying that the Father was greater in divine power than he, but that the Father’s unparalleled greatness in power is his power, too. Far from disproving Christ’s equality with God, the logic of his argument in this passage strongly proves that he was claiming to be no less than God.

For a long time, Albania has closed its doors to western scholars. Last summer, a four-person team from the Center for the Study of New Testament Manuscripts went to Tirana to photograph 13 manuscripts in the National Archive. They were unprepared for what would happen on their first day on the job. They saw an old typewritten, in-house catalog of manuscripts, and noticed that there were forty-seven (47) NT MSS! The Dallas Morning News reported on this to some degree, featuring a full-page article on the Center for the Study of New Testament Manuscripts.

In addition to this article, Christianity Today is scheduled to post a more in-depth story about the manuscript discoveries on March 10 at their website. Be sure to check it out.

I’ll leave the details of the importance of these manuscripts to the CT article, and will post later about what we discovered.

I know that I am not very faithful. I want to be, but I have this problem—an infection, an inclination, an uncanny ability to disappoint people. No, I am not just saying that to identify . . . I really do have this ability. I have won the gold medal in the triathlon of let-down, disenchantment, and flake-out. Be it forgetfulness, thoughtlessness, or just plain selfishness, I can make a mess of things. I am often faithless, to others and to God.

Yet, at the same time, while I have periods of faithlessness, I still believe—in God. In other words, I am never perpetually faithless. Confused maybe, but not faithless. I do know whom I have believed in.

I am going to take an odd and probably unexpected turn now. One of the most oft quoted passages of Scripture with regards to our tendency to weaken our grip on faith is 2 Tim. 2:13.

2 Timothy 2:13 “If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself.”

Normally, we would turn to this passage and wipe the sweat off our brow in relief. Phew . . . When we are faithless, Christ will remain faithful. Faithful to what? To us! In other words, we may let him down, but he will never let us down. While I believe that this principle is true and can be found in many passages of Scripture, I don’t believe that this is what is being taught here. This verse is misused and the real message here is lost.

Most scholars would agree that this passage, starting in v. 11 and ending in v. 13, is part of a well established statement of faith, a creed, that was put to a rhythmic hymn. It was probably used at one€™s baptism. Being such, it is doubtful that it is originally from Paul. Notice Paul introduction in verse 11, “It is a trustworthy statement . . .†The “statement†was already in existence. Notice the rhythm and parallel structure.

For if we died with Him, we will also live with Him
If we endure, we will also reign with Him

If we deny Him, He also will deny us
If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself

This was part of the early Christian kerygma or “preaching.” It was a creed or a statement of faith that was memorable because of the structure. Its structure is called parallelism. There is a parallel correspondence from one line to the next. There are a few types of parallelisms that are possible:

1. Synonymous Parallelism. The second line repeats the first in words or ideas (e.g. Ps. 24:1, Ps. 19:2, Prov. 1:20)

2. Antithetical Parallelism. The second line contrasts with the first line in words or ideas (e.g. Ps. 1:6, Mark 8:35)

3. Synthetic Parallelism. The thought of the second line supplements, or brings the first line to completion (e.g. Luke 12:49-51, Ps. 92:9).

It is clear that the first set in this creed is that of a synonymous parallelism. Notice how the second line repeats the same concepts as the first:

For if we died with Him, we will also live with Him
If we endure, we will also reign with Him

In this, we understand that “died” parallels “endure.” As well, “live” parallels “reign.”

The question now becomes Is the second set in this creed a synonymous parallelism as well? I believe that there is very little evidence for us to state otherwise.

If we deny Him, He also will deny us
If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself

In this case, “If we deny him” would parallel “If we are faithless.” And “He will deny us” would parallel “He remains faithful.”

In other words, this particular verse does not speak about Christ’s faithfulness to us even when we are unfaithful, but speaks to his faithfulness to himself when we are faithless (e.g. when we deny him). This faithfulness to himself is one of judgment. If we are faithless, we will be judged.

Notice the explanatory addition to this creed: “. . . for he cannot deny himself.” This extends or explains why it is that Christ would deny people when they deny him. The reason is that he cannot deny himself. The implication is that his righteousness requires judgment. If he did not judge our faithlessness, then he would deny the necessary functionality of his attribute of righteousness and this he cannot do.  

This creed represents the early proclamation of many essential elements of the Gospel. We need to ponder the implications. Early Christians were taught of God’s salvation and judgment. Both of these were held in balance. In other words, the earliest Christians saw heaven and hell, acceptance and denial, mercy and judgment, belief and unbelief as the essence of the Gospel. This creed evidences that one was not taught without the other.

Paul immediately tells Timothy in the next verse to remind them of these things. The reminder again implies that it was a teaching already well established in the early Church. As well, the reminder serves as a warning that their are disjunctives in belief that the Church must uphold.

Having said all of this, many commentaries do not agree with my conclusion. Most would say that this would not be Pauline theology. Paul, according to them, believed that Christ is faithful even when we struggle in our faith. While I agree with this general truth—God is faithful even when struggle—I think that they are missing the point of what is being said.

First, this hymn is not necessarily Pauline, as I previously mentioned. It is an established creed or hymn.

Second, this passage is not speaking of people who are struggling in their faith, or even have a lack of faith from time to time. What it is speaking of is perpetual unbelief or perpetual denial. It is speaking about the reality of ultimate judgment for all those who deny Christ having never placed their faith in him. The “faithless” in “if we are faithless” is a present tense meaning it is a perpetual state of faithlessness.

Therefore, I think we need to be careful how we use this verse. While it is true that when we struggle in our faith, when we let God down, and when we have times of weakness that God will never let us go, it is also true that if we do not ever have faith in him—if we deny him—he will deny us for he cannot act against himself.

This has great implication to current discussions about the Gospel and how it is to be presented.

First, we must have a balance of life and death, love and judgment, rewards and consequences, indeed, heaven and hell. If one of the earliest creeds balanced the Gospel in such a way, how much more should we?

Second, we must recognize that the atonement was made for us because God could not deny himself. It was a necessary judgment that took place as Christ stood in our place. Those who propose that a substitution was not necessary, that God could forgive without basis, are essentially saying that God could deny himself. Forgiveness comes at a price because God’s righteous nature cannot be denied.

Conversation involve questions. The asking of questions is either meant to illicit and answer or to provoke thought that provides an answer, even if the answer is a tentative “I don’t know.” I often tell my students that it is better to have an informed “I don’t know” than a forced make-ready answer.

When it comes to Christ, when it comes to following Christ, when it comes to who Christ is and what he did, there are some questions that need to be asked. The answers to these questions will and do divide. The division regards differences in beliefs, convictions, or knowledge concerning the object.

Christ asked Peter a very divisive question: “Who do you say that I am?” Others had differing opinions. Some said Elijah. Others John the Baptist. The contrastive de tells us that Christ was asking what Peter thought in contrast to what the others thought. “You are the Christ, the son of the living God,” he answered (Matt. 16:16). With this answer Peter contrasted his beliefs about Christ with all the others who gave different options. Peter believed he was right and the others wrong.

This was an early confession, a creed, a statement of faith that was in response to a question. It was not from the lips of Christ, but one of his followers. Peter was the first to put his theology into a creed. This creed not only separated him from other contemporaries, but has separated Christianity as a confession of faith from all other alternatives since. “Who do you say that I am?”

But this was not the end. As I will attempt to demonstrate, there was a progressive development of a creedal belief in the New Testament that distinguished Christianity as a distinct system of belief.

By the time Paul wrote his first letter to the Corinthians (56AD), there was already the workings of a defined Christian creed. Not only was Christianity defined by a belief in Christ as the son of God, but added to this was the confession of Christ’s death burial and resurrection.

1 Corinthians 15:3-8 3 For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, 4 and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, 5 and that He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. 6 After that He appeared to more than five hundred brethren at one time, most of whom remain until now, but some have fallen asleep; 7 then He appeared to James, then to all the apostles; 8 and last of all, as to one untimely born, He appeared to me also.

Paul says that this was of “first importance.” In other words, this was essential to the Christian faith. As well, Paul says that he “received” this. It was given over to him and he “delivered” it to others. It was already part of the Christian tradition. As Keener notes in the IVP Bible Background Commentary,

“Handed on to you … what I had received†is the language of what scholars call “traditioning.†Jewish teachers would pass on their teachings to their students, who would in turn pass them on to their own students. The students could take notes, but they delighted especially in oral memorization and became quite skilled at it; memorization was a central feature of ancient education. In the first generation, the tradition would be very accurate; this tradition may even be a verbatim citation.“

This was an established creed of the day, it was part of the tradition that was being handed down. This “tradition” is often referred to as the paradosis or the “things received or handed on.”

Paul further illustrates how this Christian creedal tradition included a belief and confession of Christ’s ontological identity with the father as well as his present Lordship in Phil 2.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, 8 he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. 9 Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, 10 so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Phil. 2:5-11)

Paul borrows language commonly used in Greek homonoia speeches (cf. Keener). This passage is believed to be a creedal hymn that was pre-Pauline in origin (probably beginning in v. 6). It was part of the kerygmatic (preaching) essence of the Gospel (Ralph Martin, Word Biblical Commentary).

This developing creedal tradition that separated Christianity as a definite system of belief is further seen in Paul’s second letter to Timothy. There were more questions that had to be answered and your answer would separate you from the alternatives.

For this reason I endure all things for the sake of those who are chosen, so that they also may obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus and with it eternal glory. 11 It is a trustworthy statement: For if we died with Him, we will also live with Him; 12 If we endure, we will also reign with Him; If we deny Him, He also will deny us; 13 If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself. 14 Remind them of these things, and solemnly charge them in the presence of God not to wrangle about words, which is useless and leads to the ruin of the hearers. (2 Timothy 2:10-14)

This verse, like the previous, starting in v. 11 and ending in v. 13, is believed to be a well established statement of faith that was put to a rhythmic hymn. It was probably used at one’s baptism. Notice Paul introduction in verse 11, “It is a trustworthy statement . . .” The “statement” was already part of this baptismal song. Notice the rhythm and parallel structure.

For if we died with Him, we will also live with Him
If we endure, we will also reign with Him

If we deny Him, He also will deny us
If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself

More importantly, notice the creedal additions. Added to the early Christian kerygma was the admonition for us to die with him. This was not a literal death, but one in which our old self dies with Christ—which often carried the implication of suffering and possible death. The Christian confession that was put to hymn was that if we die with him we will live with him. But just as important in this early Christian creed was the warning that if we deny him he will also deny us. This is a statement of divine judgment. Paul tell Timothy to “remind them of these things.” The reminder again implies that it was a teaching already well established in the early Church. As well, the reminder serves as a warning that their are distinctives in belief that the Church must uphold.

Jude speaks of these distinctive beliefs, this creed, this doctrinal distinction, this paradosis, this kerygma when he talks about contending for/fighting for the faith “once for all handed over [paradidomi] to the saints.”

Beloved, although I was very eager to write to you about our common salvation, I found it necessary to write appealing to you to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints. (Jude 1:3 )

There was a definite system of belief that defined early Christian orthodoxy (”right teaching”).

What does all this mean? It means that the early church was well on their way to having a definite set of beliefs that distinguished them from outsiders. They had a definite orthodoxy. The taking of the name Christian had meaning. Yes, it had much to do with the way one lives (orthopraxy), but, as we have seen, it also had to do with what one believes (orthodoxy). The early church was creedal. One’s “membership” in the church was dependent first on what one believed—on how one answered certain questions.

I know that one of the taboos of our emerging generation is that we don’t like labels. I understand. Labels can be misunderstood, nuanced according to traditions, and controlling in a very bad way (try wearing the label “dispensationalist”!). We also don’t like to make judgment calls, especially when it comes to orthodoxy. We don’t want to say who is in and who is out. We don’t like to have “orthodoxy” at all.

While I am not in favor of over-defining our orthodoxy to such a degree where, in the end, the only one truly orthodox is your traditional circle (the “us-four-and-no-more-and-I-am-not-sure-about-you-three mentality), there are questions that must be asked. The answer to these questions will divide us from others. Wrong answers to these questions will place one outside of the Christian creedal confession.Â

Who do you say that Christ is?

What is the Gospel?

What did Christ do?

What is our need?

What are we to do?

What happens if we don’t believe?

What happens if we do believe?

What is our authority?

What defines right behavior?

If one believes right about questions like these, then he or she is orthodox because he or she has answered in distinction to the false options. But if someone gets these questions wrong, he or she is outside of Christian orthodoxy (heterodox).

It is important to note that if someone says they don’t know what the answers are, this is honest and noble, but we must recognize that an ”I don’t know” answer does not define orthodoxy, it defines indecision. If Peter would have answered Christ’s question “Who do you say that I am?” with “I don’t know” or “I can’t say for certain” or “Answering such a question would label me and I don’t like labels” or “Any answer I give is going to make someone angry, so I prefer not to answer” these would have amounted to a wrong answer—an unorthodox answer.

We don’t define the right answers any more than Peter did. God does. We discover them. There are difficulties, yes. We need to be humble in our approach to such issues. But we need to understand that there is a right answer and a wrong answer. The right answers have been a major part of what defines Christian orthodoxy from the very beginning, the wrong answer is outside of Christian orthodoxy.

I encourage all of us who empathize with postmodern skepticism, doubt, and suspicion to understand that our tendencies toward these attitudes does not define or redefine orthodoxy. Orthodoxy has been established from the very beginning. If we deny orthodoxy a place—a definite and important place—we are outside of orthodoxy.

Once orthodoxy is defined, recognized, and acknowledged the inevitable outcome will be separation. There will be those who are within the bounds of orthodoxy and those that are outside its bounds. There will be those with right answers, like Peter, and those with wrong answers, like the others. We will have to make judgment calls if we are going to “contend” for the faith.

While we must recognize that not all orthodoxy is equal and being unorthodox in some issues is worse than being so in others, this recognition cannot relativize our contending for the faith that was once for all handed on to the saint—the faith handed to you.

Conversation involve questions. The asking of questions is either meant to illicit and answer or to provoke thought that provides an answer, even if the answer is a tentative “I don’t know.” I often tell my students that it is better to have an informed “I don’t know” than a forced make-ready answer.

When it comes to Christ, when it comes to following Christ, when it comes to who Christ is and what he did, there are some questions that need to be asked. The answers to these questions will and do divide. The division regards differences in beliefs, convictions, or knowledge concerning the object.

Christ asked Peter a very divisive question: “Who do you say that I am?” Others had differing opinions. Some said Elijah. Others John the Baptist. The contrastive de tells us that Christ was asking what Peter thought in contrast to what the others thought. “You are the Christ, the son of the living God,” he answered (Matt. 16:16). With this answer Peter contrasted his beliefs about Christ with all the others who gave different options. Peter believed he was right and the others wrong.

This was an early confession, a creed, a statement of faith that was in response to a question. It was not from the lips of Christ, but one of his followers. Peter was the first to put his theology into a creed. This creed not only separated him from other contemporaries, but has separated Christianity as a confession of faith from all other alternatives since. “Who do you say that I am?”

But this was not the end. As I will attempt to demonstrate, there was a progressive development of a creedal belief in the New Testament that distinguished Christianity as a distinct system of belief.

By the time Paul wrote his first letter to the Corinthians (56AD), there was already the workings of a defined Christian creed. Not only was Christianity defined by a belief in Christ as the son of God, but added to this was the confession of Christ’s death burial and resurrection.

1 Corinthians 15:3-8 3 For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, 4 and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, 5 and that He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. 6 After that He appeared to more than five hundred brethren at one time, most of whom remain until now, but some have fallen asleep; 7 then He appeared to James, then to all the apostles; 8 and last of all, as to one untimely born, He appeared to me also.

Paul says that this was of “first importance.” In other words, this was essential to the Christian faith. As well, Paul says that he “received” this. It was given over to him and he “delivered” it to others. It was already part of the Christian tradition. As Keener notes in the IVP Bible Background Commentary,

“Handed on to you … what I had received†is the language of what scholars call “traditioning.†Jewish teachers would pass on their teachings to their students, who would in turn pass them on to their own students. The students could take notes, but they delighted especially in oral memorization and became quite skilled at it; memorization was a central feature of ancient education. In the first generation, the tradition would be very accurate; this tradition may even be a verbatim citation.“

This was an established creed of the day, it was part of the tradition that was being handed down. This “tradition” is often referred to as the paradosis or the “things received or handed on.”

Paul further illustrates how this Christian creedal tradition included a belief and confession of Christ’s ontological identity with the father as well as his present Lordship in Phil 2.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, 8 he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. 9 Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, 10 so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Phil. 2:5-11)

Paul borrows language commonly used in Greek homonoia speeches (cf. Keener). This passage is believed to be a creedal hymn that was pre-Pauline in origin (probably beginning in v. 6). It was part of the kerygmatic (preaching) essence of the Gospel (Ralph Martin, Word Biblical Commentary).

This developing creedal tradition that separated Christianity as a definite system of belief is further seen in Paul’s second letter to Timothy. There were more questions that had to be answered and your answer would separate you from the alternatives.

For this reason I endure all things for the sake of those who are chosen, so that they also may obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus and with it eternal glory. 11 It is a trustworthy statement: For if we died with Him, we will also live with Him; 12 If we endure, we will also reign with Him; If we deny Him, He also will deny us; 13 If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself. 14 Remind them of these things, and solemnly charge them in the presence of God not to wrangle about words, which is useless and leads to the ruin of the hearers. (2 Timothy 2:10-14)

This verse, like the previous, starting in v. 11 and ending in v. 13, is believed to be a well established statement of faith that was put to a rhythmic hymn. It was probably used at one’s baptism. Notice Paul introduction in verse 11, “It is a trustworthy statement . . .” The “statement” was already part of this baptismal song. Notice the rhythm and parallel structure.

For if we died with Him, we will also live with Him
If we endure, we will also reign with Him

If we deny Him, He also will deny us
If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself

More importantly, notice the creedal additions. Added to the early Christian kerygma was the admonition for us to die with him. This was not a literal death, but one in which our old self dies with Christ—which often carried the implication of suffering and possible death. The Christian confession that was put to hymn was that if we die with him we will live with him. But just as important in this early Christian creed was the warning that if we deny him he will also deny us. This is a statement of divine judgment. Paul tell Timothy to “remind them of these things.” The reminder again implies that it was a teaching already well established in the early Church. As well, the reminder serves as a warning that their are distinctives in belief that the Church must uphold.

Jude speaks of these distinctive beliefs, this creed, this doctrinal distinction, this paradosis, this kerygma when he talks about contending for/fighting for the faith “once for all handed over [paradidomi] to the saints.”

Beloved, although I was very eager to write to you about our common salvation, I found it necessary to write appealing to you to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints. (Jude 1:3 )

There was a definite system of belief that defined early Christian orthodoxy (”right teaching”).

What does all this mean? It means that the early church was well on their way to having a definite set of beliefs that distinguished them from outsiders. They had a definite orthodoxy. The taking of the name Christian had meaning. Yes, it had much to do with the way one lives (orthopraxy), but, as we have seen, it also had to do with what one believes (orthodoxy). The early church was creedal. One’s “membership” in the church was dependent first on what one believed—on how one answered certain questions.

I know that one of the taboos of our emerging generation is that we don’t like labels. I understand. Labels can be misunderstood, nuanced according to traditions, and controlling in a very bad way (try wearing the label “dispensationalist”!). We also don’t like to make judgment calls, especially when it comes to orthodoxy. We don’t want to say who is in and who is out. We don’t like to have “orthodoxy” at all.

While I am not in favor of over-defining our orthodoxy to such a degree where, in the end, the only one truly orthodox is your traditional circle (the “us-four-and-no-more-and-I-am-not-sure-about-you-three mentality), there are questions that must be asked. The answer to these questions will divide us from others. Wrong answers to these questions will place one outside of the Christian creedal confession.Â

Who do you say that Christ is?

What is the Gospel?

What did Christ do?

What is our need?

What are we to do?

What happens if we don’t believe?

What happens if we do believe?

What is our authority?

What defines right behavior?

If one believes right about questions like these, then he or she is orthodox because he or she has answered in distinction to the false options. But if someone gets these questions wrong, he or she is outside of Christian orthodoxy (heterodox).

It is important to note that if someone says they don’t know what the answers are, this is honest and noble, but we must recognize that an ”I don’t know” answer does not define orthodoxy, it defines indecision. If Peter would have answered Christ’s question “Who do you say that I am?” with “I don’t know” or “I can’t say for certain” or “Answering such a question would label me and I don’t like labels” or “Any answer I give is going to make someone angry, so I prefer not to answer” these would have amounted to a wrong answer—an unorthodox answer.

We don’t define the right answers any more than Peter did. God does. We discover them. There are difficulties, yes. We need to be humble in our approach to such issues. But we need to understand that there is a right answer and a wrong answer. The right answers have been a major part of what defines Christian orthodoxy from the very beginning, the wrong answer is outside of Christian orthodoxy.

I encourage all of us who empathize with postmodern skepticism, doubt, and suspicion to understand that our tendencies toward these attitudes does not define or redefine orthodoxy. Orthodoxy has been established from the very beginning. If we deny orthodoxy a place—a definite and important place—we are outside of orthodoxy.

Once orthodoxy is defined, recognized, and acknowledged the inevitable outcome will be separation. There will be those who are within the bounds of orthodoxy and those that are outside its bounds. There will be those with right answers, like Peter, and those with wrong answers, like the others. We will have to make judgment calls if we are going to “contend” for the faith.

While we must recognize that not all orthodoxy is equal and being unorthodox in some issues is worse than being so in others, this recognition cannot relativize our contending for the faith that was once for all handed on to the saint—the faith handed to you.