INERRANCY AND INSPIRATION
“If we can’t trust the words of this Book, then we can’t trust anything!” The simple country preacher held aloft his well-worn copy of the King James Bible as he sought to strengthen the faith of his congregants and spur them on to lives grounded in God’s Word. His sentiments resonate with many Christians, especially when questions of doctrine and faith are at stake. There is, perhaps, no more distinctive doctrine for evangelicals than the doctrine of biblical inerrancy. This is not to suggest that no others hold to this position—surely the official position of the Roman Catholic Church, for example, affirms the truth of the Scriptures—but it is to say that the doctrine of inerrancy has been the hallmark of the evangelical movement since its inception. Belief in both the primacy of biblical authority/sufficiency of Scripture and the trustworthiness of the very words of the Bible is what distinguishes evangelicalism from Catholicism with its emphasis upon tradition or doctrine as revelation on the one hand, and from Liberal Protestantism with its emphasis on experience as primary on the other hand. In this chapter, I will argue that middle knowledge best accounts for biblical inerrancy and the doctrines that undergird it.
The doctrine of revelation refers to God’s making himself and his ways/plans known to humanity through various means. It has become common to speak of general and special revelation, with the former being understood as truths about God available to all persons through rational reflection, the work of the human conscience, and observation of the natural realm, and the latter being understood as truths about God that have been made available to select persons or groups by means of specific acts of God in space and time or through visions and/or dreams. Natural theology seeks to attain knowledge of God by means of general revelation, while systematic theology makes use of both general and special revelation. It is widely held among evangelicals that general revelation is sufficient for condemnation by affording humans knowledge of God’s existence, holiness, power, love, justice, mercy, and the like, as well as their own sinfulness and failure to meet his righteous requirements. It is also commonly held that special revelation is necessary for salvation because explicit knowledge of Jesus Christ cannot be attained without it.1 Avery Dulles has helpfully laid out the various approaches to the doctrine of revelation in the church.2
The first model sees doctrine as revelation. It is characteristic of Catholic neo-Scholasticism, as represented by Hermann Diekmann, in which the official dogma of the Magisterium is seen as on equal footing with the Scripture. While Dulles places both Protestant neo-Fundamentalism and Evangelicalism, with their emphasis upon propositional revelation, in this category, he is mistaken. It is true that some Protestants appear to treat the doctrines they hold as of comparable authority to Scripture, but this is due to the belief that they are properly based on and derived from the Scripture. Doctrinal authority stands in proportion to its accuracy in explaining the meaning of the Bible. Since Protestants have no infallible authority for interpreting the Scripture, they cannot properly see doctrine as revelation.3
The next model sees revelation as history, though it has rather diverse manifestations. On the one hand, the biblical theology movement, represented by C. H. Dodd and Oscar Cullman, among others, looks to the acts of God in history as revelation. Proponents of this view typically claim that there are levels of clarity in the revelation, depending on the content of the acts; those acts in the life of ancient Israel and in the life, death and resurrection of Christ are most illuminating. On the other hand, the universal history approach, represented by Wolfhart Pannenberg, sees God’s more general guidance of all history as revelation. In both cases, it is what God does and not what he says, that is revelatory.
The third model claims that one’s experience is revelatory. The experience can either be a specific personal experience of the holy, or more commonly, the universal religious experience of all persons. Friedrich Schleiermacher, father of modern theological liberalism, is representative of this view with his claims that all persons have an innate sense of ultimate dependence upon something outside of themselves and that this serves as the basis for all religious knowledge. It is similar enough to Dulles’ fifth category—revelation as self-awareness—for them to be treated together. In this view, revelation is conceived as an affective desire to contribute to the telos or purpose of the cosmos, which is grounded in God’s creative work. In both cases, the experience or affectation are somewhat general in nature and the revelation is nonverbal in form.
The fourth model, what Dulles calls “dialectical presence,” may also be termed the neo-orthodox model. It appeals to the personal encounter one has with the Word of God found in Scripture. The Word may be understood as the literally risen and ascended Christ (Barth) or the cosmic Christ preached in the earliest kerygma of the church (Bultmann). In both cases, it is the encounter itself that is the revelation, and it comes about by means of worship, prayer, preaching, and Bible reading. As one engages in these spiritual disciplines, Christ comes to him in personal encounter.
The last model, one that Dulles does not recognize as a separate category, is revelation as Scripture. This is the model that most evangelicals affirm, for it claims that the Scripture itself, and not its propositional content, is the revelation. Whereas the neo-orthodox position claims that the Bible serves as a vehicle to the revelation, this position claims that the Bible is itself the revelation. This view has an interdependent relationship with the doctrine of biblical inspiration. Since the Bible is seen as the revelation, its inspiration must be seen as encompassing a certain type of work of God, and since the Bible is inspired by God, it is the revelation of his mind, character, plans and purposes.
The doctrine of biblical inspiration refers to the origination of Scripture. It seeks to explain how the Bible can be written by men but understood to be the Word of God, and it typically assumes a supernatural element, whereby the Holy Spirit moves the human authors to produce the holy writ. It should be distinguished from the concept of illumination, which refers to the process by which the Holy Spirit enables persons to understand Scripture. While all Christian theologians agree that inspiration distinguishes the Bible from other literature as the Word of God, there is little agreement about what that means and about the nature and extent of the Holy Spirit’s work in inspiration. Those disagreements have given rise to a surprisingly wide variety of theories of inspiration.
So-called natural inspiration effectively denies any supernatural element in the composition of Scripture, save the idea of God as the motivating force behind the entirely human endeavor of inscripturation. This is not to say that just anyone could have penned the Scripture or that the view makes God’s existence superfluous. Rather, it claims that the authors of the Bible had an extraordinary perception of eternal truth, especially given their historical and cultural situatedness. Still, the Holy Spirit is not seen as actively involved in the writing of Scripture, and it is the ability of the authors to see into the spiritual realm which is key. The biblical writers may be spoken of as “inspired” in much the same way other great writers (e.g., Homer, Shakespeare, Keats, Longfellow, etc.) are inspired. Thus, the view can be reconciled with belief in the supernatural, though it does not require such belief.
Mystical views of inspiration include a more direct supernatural work of God, but it has less to do with the actual composition of the Scripture, and more to do with the writers or readers of Scripture. The illumination theory of inspiration suggests that the biblical authors received a personal revelation from God as they reflected upon him or prayed to him for understanding. The revelation gave them a newfound love for God and a deeper and more profound understanding of his nature and ways, and they wrote the Bible in response to that revelatory event. In this way, the writing of Scripture is a wholly human endeavor, but the experience that gave rise to that work is from God. The neo-orthodox theory of inspiration, drawing largely from the work of Karl Barth, is the view that inspiration is largely a work of the Holy Spirit upon the reader of Scripture and the text itself. Proponents of this view speak of the Bible becoming the Word of God to the reader as he encounters the risen Christ, who is the living Word of God. Thus, the Holy Spirit uses the Bible to bring persons into existential encounter with Christ; it is a means to an end, and inspiration refers to the mystical encounter one experiences through the vehicle of Scripture. In both cases, inspiration is strongly tied to the human experience of God, and the Bible is seen as a product of human effort tangentially tied to that experience.
Dynamic theories of inspiration typically begin with the claim that the Bible contains the Word of God, but is not itself wholly identified with God’s Word. They seem to be largely the result of attempts to speak of the Bible as both supernatural and human in origin, and to reconcile the findings of modern science and biblical criticism with that belief. Many who hold to some variation of this view claim that the Bible is completely true in its doctrinal teachings, but not necessarily in its scientific or historical assertions. There are three broad approaches to understanding dynamic inspiration: conceptual inspiration, degree inspiration, and partial inspiration. Conceptual inspiration is the view that God gave the authors of Scripture notions, ideas, and/or concepts that they then attempted to express in their own words. The words of Scripture come from the human authors, while the basic ideas come from God. In this way, then, the whole may be spoken of as both divine and human, with the human giving rise to the details (and potential errors). Degree inspiration arose from the conviction that not all parts of the biblical story are equally important for the church. It claims that the whole is inspired, but in varying degrees, depending on the value and purpose of a given passage. Typically, those passages that speak to doctrinal truth, especially with regard to salvation, are thought to be of greater importance, and thereby attest to a higher degree of inspiration, than those that, for instance, are only of historical concern (e.g., the number of soldiers who took the field in a particular battle). Thus, some portions of Scripture attest to a high degree of inspiration, while others only to a low degree. This view did not make sense to some, who saw in it an inconsistency with the doctrine of God as truthful and infallible—whatever God inspired must be true—and so they rejected it in favor of partial inspiration, since they believed that the Bible does contain errors. Partial inspiration is the view that only parts of the Bible are inspired, while others are not. Proponents of this position, in a way similar to proponents of degree inspiration, tend to see the passages that speak to doctrinal matters as more important than others, and thereby use doctrinal density as the interpretive key when attempting to identify those passages that are inspired over against those that are not.
The theories surveyed thus far are those that have typically been rejected by evangelicals because they allow for error and seem to place too great an emphasis upon the human element and not enough on the divine. It should also be noted that, although the theories have been discussed separately from one another, they need not be so conceived; there is often much overlap in the way inspiration is understood among adherents of these views. For example, William Abraham has drawn comparisons between divine inspiration and human inspiration that seem to include both dynamic and mystical approaches. His use of the student-teacher relationship as analogous to the prophet-deity relationship simultaneously suggests conceptual or degree inspiration on the one hand, since the teacher inspires the student while the work remains the product solely of the student, and illumination inspiration on the other hand, since the focus is primarily upon the student not as producer, but as receptor.4 In fact, Abraham is critical of what he sees as the unbalanced emphasis upon divine speaking in evangelical theories of inspiration, to the detriment of what he refers to as a fuller view of inspiration that incorporates reference to the act upon the writers and the acts of the writers (i.e., they were inspired in their writing).5
Nevertheless, the greatest concern for evangelicals has been the doctrine of biblical inerrancy, and this has led most to adhere to either dictation theories of inspiration, or the more popular verbal/plenary inspiration.
Dictation theories were more popular in the pre-modern era and have mostly fallen out of favor in scholarly circles. Their characteristic feature is to view the human writers and/or speakers/prophets as passive tools of the deity. This passivity is often seen as necessary in order to ensure that the end-product is divine in nature. The presupposition that the writing must be partitioned out or assigned to either the human or divine agency is shared with the dynamic views: where the dynamic views place too great an emphasis upon the human role in the production of Scripture, dictation theories place too much emphasis upon the divine.
There are good reasons, both textually and theologically (as well as historically), for rejecting dictation theories in favor of verbal plenary inspiration. First, there are many places in the Bible where the authors refer to themselves in the first person and engage in personal interaction (which make no sense if God is the only one speaking and the human author is just a passive instrument). Similarly, the biblical authors often indicate that they conducted research in the writing of Scripture (Luke is a prime example; see Luke 1:1–3). Second, it was the pagan prophets who, in their ecstatic experiences, would empty their minds and give control to the deity, while the biblical prophets retained their faculties (compare the prophets of Baal and Ashtoreth on Carmel, who seemingly lost their wits and in a frenzy, cut themselves, 1 Kings 18, with Isaiah, Jeremiah, and any other of the OT prophets, who spoke forth Yahweh’s words, while showing forth their own thoughts and personalities). Third, dictation theories do not adequately address the range of writing styles, emphases, and vocabularies extant in the biblical text. They simply cannot account for the vast differences among the biblical books. The Bible is both consistent and inconsistent—consistent in message, but inconsistent in form. Dictation theories are inadequate for explaining this phenomenon, while the verbal/plenary theory is able to make sense of the data.
By far, the majority position among evangelicals on biblical inspiration has been verbal/plenary inspiration. It claims that the totality of the Scripture (plenary) is inspired by God, and that inspiration refers to the very words themselves (verbal) and not just the concepts. According to the theory, the human authors used their own words (which reflect their distinctive concerns, personalities, vocabularies, and the like) and the Holy Spirit guided the whole process so that the words chosen were/are the very words of God. Proponents of verbal/plenary inspiration typically appeal to the concept of divine concurrence, claiming that God agrees (concurs) with human actions in his providential activity, but also that the human authors and God were concurrently working in the penning of the biblical text. Carl Henry has nicely summarized this position in eight statements: 1) The text of Scripture is divinely inspired as an objective deposit of language; 2) Inspiration does not violate, but is wholly consistent with the humanity of the writers; 3) The prophets remain fallible; 4) Divine inspiration is a unique and special work of God for the Scriptures; 5) God revealed information beyond the reach of the natural resources of all human beings; 6) God is the ultimate author of Scripture; 7) The whole of Scripture is inspired and there are not degrees of inspiration; and 8) Inspiration is the historic position of the church.6
The doctrine of biblical inerrancy refers to the truthfulness of Scripture and is inextricably tied to the doctrine of verbal/plenary inspiration. The argument is straightforward: since God is truthful and cannot lie (Num. 23:19; Titus 1:2; cf. Rom. 3:4), then whatever he inspires must be true. Note that as a doctrine, inerrancy is more than the bare claim that the text of Scripture is true, but also affirms that it is true necessarily and could not have errors because it is uniquely inspired.7 There has been much controversy over these concepts, and biblical inerrancy has undergone much refinement as a result. It is now almost universally acknowledged that it only apples to the original manuscripts (autographa, the manuscripts actually written by the apostles and prophets), even though we can have confidence in the reliability of the manuscripts that subsist today. The reason it only applies to the original manuscripts is due to the fact that inspiration applies to the original writing, not copying, and that the meaning of inerrancy is tied to inspiration.8
Evangelicals have long seen at least one of the distinctives of their theology to be a commitment to biblical inerrancy grounded in verbal/plenary inspiration. The concept of the dual authorship of Scripture is foundational to this theory such that the words of Scripture are viewed as both the words of God himself and the words of the human authors.9 Theologians have wrestled with how to explain this duality in a way that does justice to both the human and divine elements. Some have appealed to analogies to the incarnation, but this does less to explain such a view and serves more to defend the view against charges of incoherence by other Christian scholars. In the remainder of this chapter, I will argue that middle knowledge can aid in explaining an evangelical view of divine inspiration without sacrificing truthfulness, contrary to charges by its contemporary compatibilist critics.
William Lane Craig has argued that the application of the doctrine of middle knowledge to the understanding of divine inspiration is obvious. God can weakly actualize the situations in which the authors of Scripture will compose their books, using the words God wants. In saying this, he means that God can bring about their writing by ensuring that the situation(s) in which they would infallibly write obtain. Craig explains:
The Epistle to the Romans, for example, is truly the work of Paul, who freely wrote it and whose personality and idiosyncrasies are reflected therein. The style is his because he is the author. The words are his, for he freely chose them. The argument and reasoning are the reflection of his own mind, for no one dictated the premises to him. Neither did God dictate levicula like the greetings (“Greet Asyncritus, Phlegon, Hermes,” etc.); these are spontaneous salutations which God knew Paul would deliver under such circumstances; so also the interjection of his amanuensis Tertius (Rom. 16.22). Paul’s full range of emotions, his memory lapses (I Cor. 1.14–16), his personal asides (Gal. 6.11) are all authentic products of human consciousness. God knew what Paul would freely write in the various circumstances in which he found himself and weakly actualized the writing of the Pauline corpus.10
Despite Craig’s confident assertions, some critics of middle knowledge have questioned if its application to biblical inspiration is sufficient to ensure that the words of Scripture really are without error. For example, John Feinberg has claimed that compatibilist freedom is required to make sense of the words of Peter regarding the writing of Scripture, and to avoid a dictation theory of inspiration (see 2 Peter 1:20–21). He argues that the language Peter uses of the biblical writers being “carried along” (pheromenoi) suggests a strong superintendence of the Holy Spirit which can only be explained by either a compatibilist freedom or dictation theory of inspiration.11 Similarly, Bruce Ware has suggested that the doctrine of inerrancy requires a compatibilist view of freedom in order to work.12 Commenting on Craig’s article, he writes, “I have often wondered, when considering his proposal, if God could succeed with a one hundred percent success rate on Scripture using middle knowledge, why don’t we see that kind of record reflected more in other aspects of his governance of the world (e.g., how many people, throughout the world today, have responded to his offer of salvation)?”13 It is a good question, though the way it has been stated may create more confusion than clarity.
It seems to me that Ware has really raised two distinct concerns with middle knowledge. First, he questions whether middle knowledge really preserves the concept of the dual authorship of Scripture. He doubts that God’s use of middle knowledge in inscripturation really affords him the title of “Author” of the text, and therefore doubts it can result in an inerrant product. Second, he argues that middle knowledge fails to protect both libertarian creaturely freedom and divine providence, and complains that the latter suffers as a result. Specifically, Ware points to the vast number of persons who do not accept Christ as Lord and Savior and are consequently condemned, and argues that if middle knowledge really worked, those persons would freely respond to God’s call and be saved.14 He sees this as evidence of the general failure of middle knowledge, at least on a libertarian conception of creaturely freedom. I will address the second argument first.
Ware’s appeal to the number of lost persons really shifts the discussion from the issue of inspiration to that of predestination, and for various reasons, the analogy fails. First, it assumes that predestination and inspiration are equal with regard to God’s work, but this may not be the case. That is, it may be that God has good reasons for choosing to refrain from overriding human freedom with regard to salvation while possibly doing so with regard to inspiration (or at least leaving the possibility open). Second, it assumes that the proponent of middle knowledge is committed to the idea that faith is a purely free human response, but this is not necessarily so. Evangelical Molinists may have good reasons for viewing saving faith as a result of divine influence of God’s spirit in the heart and mind of the individual, convincing him of the truth of the gospel. Third, Ware seems to assume that Molinism claims that salvation of particular persons is God’s sole or primary purpose for creating, and although many Arminians have advocated this position, there is nothing in Molinism that requires such a belief. Fourth, in some ways, Ware’s argument fails to fully appreciate that the power of middle knowledge is in the fact that it allows that all possible worlds may not be feasible (even while critiquing it on this basis!). So it may be that God could not create a world that better meets his purposes where more people are saved. It could be that God did not have to override the freedom of the human authors of Scripture in order to ensure that they wrote the words he wished, but in order for more people to be saved, he would need to. This is certainly possible, and in fact, I think it is quite likely the way things are, but if I were proven to be wrong in this belief, it would not thereby prove Molinism wrong. Put differently, it may be that all the worlds where persons are free and the authors of Scripture write infallibly include vast numbers of persons who reject the gospel. Thus, the use of the vast number of persons condemned is unhelpful in the discussion, for it only muddies the water.
However, even without such a reference, Ware’s underlying concern is certainly a legitimate one, and this brings us back to his original complaint: that the principles of middle knowledge, coupled with libertarian freedom, preclude God from ensuring an inerrant product. The substance of Ware’s objection seems to be this: If God’s ability is constrained by the true counterfactuals such that there are vast numbers of possible worlds that he cannot actualize, then it seems quite possible that he could not actualize a world where the authors of Scripture do not make an error (or where the authors of Scripture freely write the very words he wishes).
In a very real sense, Ware’s concern is perfectly justified. Under Molinist principles, one must admit that it is possible that God could not have actualized a world where the authors of Scripture freely write the very words he wished. Ware points out that while the notion of feasibility is a strength of Molinism for answering the problem of evil, it is a liability for understanding biblical inspiration. Consider the following admittedly basic and somewhat generic pair of counterfactuals of creaturely freedom:
If Paul were in prison and the Holy Spirit were to inspire him in a particular way, Paul would freely choose the exact words God wished to have written to Philemon;
and
If Paul were in prison and the Holy Spirit were to inspire him in a particular way, Paul would freely choose words that are not the words God wished to have written to Philemon.
If the first were true, then we can see how God could ensure the inerrancy of the product of Paul’s writing, but under Molinist principles, there is no guarantee that the first and not the second would be true. If the second were true, then God would either have to actualize a different world where Paul freely chooses the words he wishes (assuming such a world is available), or he would have to use a different person to write to Philemon, or he would have to override Paul’s freedom in order to cause him to use the desired words. So God’s ability regarding world-actualization is constrained by the true counterfactuals of creaturely freedom, and this constraint could result in his inability to bring about Paul’s freely writing Philemon without error. And so, Ware concludes, a middle knowledge approach to inscripturation cannot guarantee inerrancy, and by this, I take him to mean that it cannot guarantee verbal plenary inspiration. However, there are at least three avenues of response for the Molinist.
First, it should be clear that just because it is possible that God could not so guarantee inerrancy, does not mean it is the way things are. It is also quite possible (and most evangelical Molinists would claim that it is the case!) that the counterfactuals of creaturely freedom regarding which words the authors would choose to write were such that God was able to ensure that each human author chose the exact words he wished. Flint seems to take this tack in his discussion of Molinism and papal infallibility. He simply assumes that there will be at least one option where a candidate speaks unerringly when speaking ex cathedra if elected pope.15 But Ware’s point is just this: Molinism, on libertarian freedom, can make no such assumption. It could be the case that there is no feasible world where the candidate for the papacy, if elected, always speaks accurately and truthfully when speaking ex cathedra.
It seems to me that both Ware and Flint have erred here. Ware presents the situation as if libertarianism necessarily precludes such a world from being feasible, while Flint presents it as if such a world must be feasible, and both are wrong. Such a world could be feasible, but it is not necessarily so. Underlying Ware’s assumption is really his rejection of the truth of counterfactuals of libertarian creaturely freedom, and his endorsement of the grounding objection. Underlying Flint’s assumption is either a confusion of possibility and feasibility [doubtful], or a faith commitment that says God would not lead the church to claim the doctrine of infallibility (or in our case, inerrancy and verbal/plenary inspiration) if it were not feasible [more likely]; since the church has put forth the doctrine, it must have been feasible and it must be the case. This seems to beg the question, and while an appropriate move in theology, may not be satisfying to some. I would guess that this argument would not hold much weight in discussion or debate with any critic of papal infallibility. However, as noted in the introductory comments to this chapter, the assumption of verbal plenary inspiration and inerrancy is a common feature of evangelical theology, and so this move should not be problematic for critics of Molinism from the evangelical tradition.
Second, Ware seems to assume that God could not, in certain circumstances, override the human authors’ freedom on particular words and still preserve the human element, but this is incorrect. As noted earlier, the Molinist can appeal to divine control; he can claim that, if the writers of Scripture were to libertarianly choose a word that God found objectionable, and there were not ways for him to, for lack of a better term, manipulate the situation so that the author would choose an acceptable word, God could override human freedom and force the author to pen the word he desired. In this case, the occasional word may not be of the human author’s choosing, but the majority still would. I am loath to put a number on it, but just for consideration, suppose that ninety-nine percentof the words were freely chosen by the human authors and one percent of the word choice required direct divine intervention. In a case such as this, it seems that even the most skilled biblical critics would have difficulty determining which words were the human author’s own and which were not. Why could God not intervene here or there to prevent the human author from writing the wrong word? Why couldn’t the proponent of middle knowledge appeal to compatibilist freedom as a possible option for the occasional word (if needed)? It seems that he can. This theory, though, should not be overemphasized, for it is only something to which an evangelical Molinist could appeal; it is not a view to which Molinists typically subscribe. In fact, Flint rightly cautions in the use of such an approach: a view which claims God must control pronouncements every time one is made in order for them to be infallible, ironically enough, undermines God’s omnipotence. Flint writes, “Not only does such a view seem somewhat implausible, but it also at least appears rather demeaning both to God and to the pope to suggest that the only way God can infallibly guide his church is by playing Edgar Bergen to the pope’s Charlie McCarthy.”16 Interestingly (and, I think, to Ware’s chagrin), it also seems to confirm Neo-orthodox objections to inerrancy and verbal/plenary inspiration, for example, that of Karl Barth: “the prophets and apostles as such, even in their office, even in their function as witnesses, even in the act of writing down their witness, were real, historical men as we are, and therefore sinful in their action, and capable and actually guilty of error in their spoken and written word.”17 He continued to argue that, although the sinfulness and fallibility of the human authors of Scripture make it a fallible product, complete accuracy is not necessary: “To the bold postulate, that if their word is to be the Word of God they must be inerrant in every word, we oppose the even bolder assertion, that according to the scriptural witness about man, which applies to them too, they can be at fault in any word, and have been at fault in every word, and yet according to the same scriptural witness, being justified and sanctified by grace alone, they have still spoken the Word of God in their fallible and erring human word.”18
As perplexing as Barth’s words are here, they are clear about one thing: the doctrine of total depravity makes it such that the Bible, understood as a human product, must be both fallible and errant.19 Ware’s argument seems to follow much the same line of thought, though he does not claim, as Barth, that fallible humans must err, which is the critical flaw in the argument.20 Obviously, human finitude and fallibility, along with depravity, do not make biblical inerrancy impossible, especially if divine inspiration is conceived as some kind of special empowering by God upon the author of Scripture in writing. I think Ware would agree, so his skepticism regarding God’s ability to ensure inerrancy given libertarian freedom is somewhat perplexing. The reason seems to be tied to the next two points.
Third, Ware assumes that verbal/plenary inspiration requires that there was only one way for things to be worded; that there is one best way for ideas to be articulated. This assumption accords well with Ware’s Calvinist theology with its commitment to compatibilist creaturely freedom, and also seems to fit quite nicely with the language used to describe verbal/plenary inspiration. Nevertheless, evangelical proponents of middle knowledge have good reason for questioning this belief.
In his consideration of the moderate Calvinist position which claims that God ordered a chain of causes which will result in the authors of Scripture choosing the words they desire, words which coincide with the words God wanted, Craig complains that it effectively results in a dictation theory.21 He even suggests that compatibilist freedom completely compromises the human component in Scripture and “turns the authors of Scripture into robots.”22 While I agree with Craig that compatibilist freedom is not the best account and instead prefer libertarian freedom, and while I agree with Craig that middle knowledge better explains dual authorship, I think his characterization of the traditional reformed position is overstated. In fact, it seems that both Craig and Ware have, in a somewhat ironic turn, made the same assumption regarding these issues, but with opposite effects. Both assume that the key issue at hand is the account of freedom held; Ware assumes that libertarian freedom cannot ensure divine authorship, and Craig assumes that compatibilist freedom cannot ensure human authorship. Both are wrong.
Proponents of compatibilist freedom typically argue that God has made people such that they have the desires they have, but those desires are not directly caused by God, as if they are implanted by him into the minds of the individuals. Rather, they develop in the minds of persons as they interact with the world and have a variety of experiences, as they grow intellectually, and as their personalities develop throughout their lives. On most accounts, Calvinists argue that all possibilities are open to God in that he is able to guide the circumstances of each individual’s life so that the person will develop the specific desires God wants him to and freely perform the specific actions God desires. In this (admittedly rough and basic) description, God is able to have exactly the details he desires while compatibilistically free agents perform those actions they desire and choose. Analogous to the development of desires is the development of vocabulary and thus, free word choice. This, then, is the moderate Calvinist explanation of verbal/plenary inspiration. For example, Warfield, who Craig quotes, explains: “If God wished to give His people a series of letters like Paul’s He prepared a Paul [to] write those, and the Paul He brought to the task was a Paul who spontaneously would write just such letters.”23 It is this view, or something very much like it, to which Ware appeals. Thus, Craig has unfairly characterized this position as equivalent to mechanical dictation. In fact, Warfield was among the strongest critics of the dictation theory and a pioneer in the evangelical understanding and articulation of verbal plenary inspiration.
However, Craig has hit on an important point, one which Calvinists have failed to adequately address and one which middle knowledge is better equipped to handle. The Calvinist position incurs at least one of the problems with which dictation theories are afflicted. Just as dictation theories are ill-equipped to explain the origin and purposes of variances in author style and grammatical errors, so also the compatibilist approach seems unable to give a full account of them. Whereas dictation theories cannot explain how they came to be and why God chose to include them, Calvinist views can answer the former but not the latter. That is, compatibilism can explain how it is that the Scripture includes these items—persons developed in such a way so as to acquire the knowledge, experience, vocabularies, and grammatical abilities they did—but cannot offer much by way of explanation for their purpose(s). It struggles to explain why it best suites God’s purposes that these persons with these abilities and these limitations write the specific words they wrote in the specific styles they chose. The best answer available to the compatibilist, I suspect, is some sort of appeal to mystery or God’s good pleasure.24
In other words, the Calvinist position, grounded in compatibilist freedom, must argue that the unique vocabularies and writing styles of the human authors, to include grammatical and stylistic errors, were specifically purposed by God, that they were preferable to any of the virtually infinite other options available and that, somehow (mysteriously), they best contribute to the accomplishment of God’s purpose(s) in creation. The difficulty here is that this is not really an answer to the question of why God did so; it is simply an assertion that he did! At one level, this is okay because faith-based assertions in theological discourse and appeals to mystery are not completely out of bounds. At another level, this is problematic, for the question of why such items have been included in the Scriptures seems to be a valid question. The criticisms of inerrancy and verbal/plenary inspiration of Scripture are well-documented, and they stem from questions regarding God’s purposes for such inclusion. The problem can be stated clearly: If God wanted to reveal himself by means of a divine document—and it is a fair assumption that he did—why would he purposely and intentionally add such items? Are we to think that the inclusion of grammatical errors and unique styles in writing among the various authors would lead persons to believe it to have a divine origin? It seems that items of this sort have caused more difficulty than faith and I don’t think we want to, with Origen, claim that such offenses were included in order to point us to the deeper, allegorical meaning because the literal meaning is simply untenable! Think what you want about Bart Ehrman, but he seems brutally honest when he notes the shift in his own thought about the Bible from “the fully inspired, inerrant word of God” to a purely human product (as a result of his own discovery of textual oddities of the sort mentioned):
The Bible began to appear to me as a very human book. Just as human scribes had copied, and changed, the texts of scripture, so too had human authors originally written the texts of scripture. . . . It was written by different human authors at different times and in different places to address different needs . . . they had their own perspectives, their own beliefs, their own views, their own needs, their own desires, their own understandings, their own theologies; and these perspectives, beliefs, views, needs, desires, understandings, and theologies informed everything they said. . . . Each author . . . needs to be read for what he . . . has to say, not assuming that what he says is the same, or conformable to, or consistent with what every other author has to say. The Bible, at the end of the day, is a very human book.25
How, then, is the compatibilist approach different from the middle knowledge position? The Molinist, committed to a libertarian view of freedom, also argues that the unique vocabularies and writing styles of the human authors, to include grammatical and stylistic errors, were specifically purposed by God. In saying this, we mean that they were the options that were available to God that best contribute to the accomplishment of his purpose(s) in creation. The difference between the two has to do with the options available to God. In the Calvinist view, all possibilities are live options, and in the Molinist view, the live options are constrained by the true counterfactuals of creaturely freedom.
This means that for the Molinist, while it may be true that there was only one way for some of the more technical passages to be worded, it is unclear that it is a requirement for all words of all passages. Craig hints at this issue when he admits that under a middle knowledge perspective, Paul’s letters may be said to include items that God did not necessarily desire to be included. This, however, should not be seen as an admission that there could be errors; only that some of the words may have been incidental [neutral]. That is, it may be the case that God does not care which of two synonyms a particular biblical author may choose. Craig writes,
Perhaps some features of Paul’s letters are a matter of indifference to God: maybe it would not have mattered to God whether Paul greeted Phlegon or not; perhaps God would have been just as pleased had Paul worded some things differently; perhaps the Scripture need not have been just as it is to accomplish God’s purposes. We cannot know. But we can confess that Scripture as it does stand is God-breathed and therefore authoritative. The Bible says what God wanted to say and communicates His message of salvation to mankind.26
While this concept may not be particularly troubling to some Christians, it may be disturbing to others, as it could appear to suggest that God had to settle for something which was less than desirable, or that God is not concerned with details, and so we may wish to ask if Craig must make such an admission or allowance. That is, does Molinism require that its adherents hold to a position similar to Craig’s here? I think not. As already noted, it just may have been the case that one of the feasible options was a world where the biblical writers, when inspired by the Holy Spirit, just would write the very words God intended they write, and this of their own free will, and the Molinist can, in an admittedly question-begging manner, assert that it was the case. Some may find such an appeal to be unsatisfying and no better than the compatibilist account because it does not really deal with the issues just noted and may, therefore, fall back on Craig’s suggestion regarding divine indifference about some wording. But is such a position tenable for evangelicals? Does it compromise essential elements of verbal/plenary inspiration, as Ware and others suggest?
At first glance it may appear to, as it can give the impression that it is in effect saying that the words of Scripture themselves are not inspired or that only the ideas are inspired. Such a claim would be fatal, as the biblical passages which are typically appealed to by proponents of verbal/plenary inspiration (2 Tim. 3:16–18; 2 Peter 1:20–21) certainly suggest divine control down to the very words, and the theory of verbal/plenary inspiration claims that the words themselves are inspired, and this over against the claim that only the ideas were inspired. Harold Lindsell rightly notes that a written work must express ideas in words, and if it is to be true, those words must be the correct words to communicate those ideas: “Thoughts, when committed to writing, must be put into words. And if the words are congruent with the ideas, the words no less than the thoughts take on great importance. Words have specific meanings. To suppose that thoughts are inspired but the words that express them are not, is to do violence to the thoughts.”27
Central to the traditional notion of verbal/plenary inspiration is the theological notion of concursus. It may be that Ware is concerned that a middle knowledge interpretation of biblical inspiration undermines this concept. B. B. Warfield describes its function in an evangelical theology of biblical inspiration: “The Spirit is not to be conceived as standing outside of the human powers employed for the effect in view, ready to supplement any inadequacies they may show and to supply any defects they may manifest, but as working confluently in, with and by them, elevating them, directing them, controlling them, energizing them, so that, as His instruments, they rise above themselves and under His inspiration do His work and reach His aim.”28 Such language is clearly at odds with a middle knowledge application to biblical inspiration, and seems to confirm Ware’s and Feinberg’s positions, but as important as Warfield has been in articulating and defending the concepts underlying the evangelical notion of verbal/plenary inspiration, this does not settle the matter, as some may initially suppose.
Confusion over the meaning and method of verbal/plenary inspiration abounds, and it is often difficult to distinguish the position of its advocates from dictation theories. Even none other than Carl Henry has noted that the language sometimes used by proponents is misleading and unhelpful. Somewhat surprisingly, he criticizes the wording of certain articles in the Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy as suggesting dictation. He writes:
The “Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy,” approved by associates of the International Council on Biblical Inerrancy in October 1978, subject to future revision, strenuously disavows dictation, but unfortunately in some passages suggests divine causation of each and every word choice. Scripture is said to be “wholly and verbally God-given” (“A Short Statement,” #4); moreover, we read of God “causing these writers to use the very words that He chose” (Article VIII) (see Supplementary Note, Chapter 8). The emphasis on the connection of thought and words, both in propositional revelation and in verbal inspiration, is somewhat obscured.29
So clarification on the meaning of verbal/plenary inspiration suggests that both the ideas and the words are important and must be described as inspired, and therefore, as the very words of God, but the description of God’s role in the determination of the words should avoid language related to (direct) causation, for the words are also those of the human authors.
Thus, the question persists: can one remain true to the verbal/plenary inspiration while also claiming that some of the words could have been other than they are? It seems that he can, but caution is needed in how such a claim is expressed. Consider the following by evangelical luminary, Donald Bloesch, who calls upon the concept of divine transcendence as a means of upholding the worth of Scripture as the Word of God, while acknowledging its limits as words of man:
Their [authors of Scripture] language about God and his works is not univocal but symbolic or analogical. Inspiration means that the authors were guided to choose words that correspond with God’s Word. But we are not to conclude that they are identical with God’s Word, for no human language can encompass or exhaust the unsurpassable reality of divine knowledge and wisdom. God’s wisdom and love infinitely transcend all human knowledge and formulation (Job 5:9; Ps 145:3; Rom 11:33; 1 Cor 2:9; Eph 3:18–19).30
Hermeneutical theory can be helpful here. It may be that the Molinist can appeal to the concepts of synonymous usage and semantic ranges to address the question of wording. Moises Silva, in the popular hermeneutics text coauthored with Walter Kaiser, warns against overemphasis upon specific word choice in one’s interpretive method. While he admits that in some cases, slight differences in synonyms can be used to communicate particular emphases of authors and he admonishes would-be biblical interpreters to investigate the significance of the choice of one word over another, he also reminds them that, in many cases, word choice has more to do with writing style than a desire to communicate a subtle theological truth. He writes:
We can never forget, however, that writers often use a diverse vocabulary for simple reasons of style, such as a desire to avoid repetition. In those cases, we may say that the differences among the words are “neutralized” by the context. Even when an author makes a lexical choice for semantic (rather than stylistic) reasons, it does not follow that our interpretation stands or falls on our ability to determine precisely why one word was chosen rather than another. After all, people normally communicate, not by uttering isolated words, but by speaking whole sentences. Important as words are, what really matters, then, is how those words have been combined by the speaker.31
Perhaps an example will make the point more clearly. When I was finishing my doctoral work, my supervisory professor and I sat down to discuss the dissertation chapters I had submitted. After noting some larger issues that I still needed to address, he asked me about my use of the word, “recognize,” at a particular point in the Introduction, and then launched into a five-minute discourse on the loaded nature of the word in philosophical discourse, especially in Platonic epistemology, and asked if I could flesh out more fully how I was incorporating the concept into my overall argument. Of course, the answer was that I was not, and had merely used the word as a synonym for “know” or “come to realize” for variety in wording. I was not making any deep philosophical point and thought that “recognize” could convey the same point just as well as a number of other words. I changed the word. However, the fact still remains that often, numerous different words can communicate the same point and that, while precision in terminology is important, each and every word need not be seen as especially significant (unless the author makes a point of it). Such overemphasis upon exactness can appear gnostic in tendency.32 Insistence that God inspired the biblical authors to use the words they did because those words were the absolute best they could use and that Scripture had to be worded the way it was in order to communicate what it does, may actually violate this principle. That is, it is a commonly held hermeneutical principle that the biblical interpreter should not insist on a technical meaning for each and every word. Words may be used synonymously and, in some cases, may be used with deliberate ambiguity. This suggests that other words could just as easily have been substituted without doing violence to the message. As Osborne notes, it is important that the biblical interpreter not “read into the text greater precision than it has, a problem especially apt to occur in overexegeting synonymity or antonymity.”33 If the product can allow for such semantic range, it seems justified to suppose that the production could as well. That is, the rules/principles which hold for evangelical hermeneutics suggest that word choice, at least in some instances, could have been other than it was and nothing would be lost from meaning. If this is the case, then Craig’s assertion regarding divine indifference may stand as not violating verbal/plenary inspiration. Of course, more discussion, dialogue, and debate is needed, and care must be taken to preserve the divine nature of the product and the distinctive concerns of those forebears who fought the battle for the Bible, but it seems that this position falls within the evangelical camp. This means that Ware’s final assumption also fails, and his criticism of Molinism’s ability to preserve divine authorship in inspiration and inerrancy also fails.
There is one issue that needs to be addressed before closing this chapter. The reader may have further concerns about the middle knowledge approach to inspiration offered here because it seems too laissez-faire to be a robust doctrine of divine authorship. After all, one could see the model of inspiration advocated as akin to deistic providence, with God setting up the initial conditions and then letting things play out according to the true counterfactuals, but this would be a mistaken interpretation. To be sure, a modern-day Deist could make use of middle knowledge in order to strengthen his own position, but Molinism is not inherently deistic, and the allure of Molinism has been to present a particularly strong view of providence while retaining free will. Evangelical Molinists will agree with Gordon Lewis’ three principles regarding the interplay of human and divine in the writing of Scripture: (1) the human authors’ unique perspectives were prepared by divine providence (upbringing, education, situatedness, etc.); (2) the human authors’ teachings originated with God; and (3) the human authors’ research and writing were conducted under supernatural supervision.34
It seems to me that this objection is based on the same line of thinking as the grounding objection, noted in chapter 2. It assumes that the only type of inspiring work available to God is either overpowering the prophets completely, or choosing persons who will, of their own accord and apart from any work of God, decide to write the very words that God wanted, but this is obviously false. Recall the representative counterfactual utilized earlier:
If Paul were in prison and the Holy Spirit were to inspire him in a particular way, Paul would freely choose the exact words God wished to have written to Philemon.
It has, built into its structure, two important features: the active, inspiring work of the Holy Spirit, and the freedom of word choice of the author (Paul). In this alone, then, the model escapes the objection raised, even if it may seem like the Molinist is begging the question. However, as already noted, there is no good reason to think that counterfactuals of this form couldn’t be true, and there are intuitive reasons for thinking they could.
Still, the objector may complain that no real explanation of inspiration has been offered; only a vague reference to the “particular way” the Holy Spirit “inspires” the author has been given. This is a valid complaint. The Holy Spirit’s moving of the prophets and apostles to write is admittedly mysterious and may, at times, take the form of conceptual inspiration, and at other times, take the form of dictation, just so long as in both instances, the particular words chosen meet with divine approval and accurately communicate truth without any error. In most cases, though, the inspiring work is a supernatural movement upon the mind, heart, and/or spirit of the prophet in order to select the exact word or one among the approved range/group of words that God desires. For lack of a better term, it probably has many features of persuasion, but without the problems of Process or Open Theism and the propensity for divine error in those systems.
Which position best accounts for what we see in Scripture and what we believe about the Scripture as divine revelation and humanly authored? Which is more problematic: the potential for God not getting the exact words he desires under Molinist principles, or concerns regarding the rationality of God's choice to include authorial oddities under compatibilist principles? I trust I have demonstrated that the complaints raised against Molinism can be answered and that reservations regarding its compatibility with a thoroughgoing evangelical notion of biblical inspiration can be set aside. By contrast, the problems noted for the compatibilist approach to biblical inspiration cannot be so easily dismissed, and therefore, the Molinist account appears to best explain divine inspiration/dual authorship.
Still, much of the discussion has depended upon philosophical and speculative theology, and because of this approach, the perceptive evangelical may feel somewhat cheated; after all, solid evangelical theological method begins with the text of Scripture and responsible exegesis. This cannot be denied, and while philosophy of religion and speculative theology can serve to aid developmental theology, at the end of the day, we must acknowledge that the ways of God are mysterious and beyond our comprehension. While the doctrine of middle knowledge may be helpful in explaining how the text can be written by God while retaining the distinctive emphases, language, concerns, and the like, of the human authors, we must agree with Bromiley, who proclaims, “The inspiration of Scripture is genuinely the work of the sovereign Spirit, whose operation cannot finally be subjected to human analysis, repudiation or control, but who remains the internal Master of that which he himself has given, guaranteeing its authenticity, and declaring its message with quickening and compelling power.”35 An appeal to mystery may be somewhat unsatisfying to the stern philosopher, but it is a staple to the humble worshiper in his quest of faith seeking understanding. May we always have the attitude of the latter and eschew our tendencies toward the former when they conflict.
1. The second claim is the more controversial of the two. It is based on the assertion that salvation is only available to those who specifically place their faith in Christ, and that ignorance of the gospel provides no protection from God’s righteous condemnation, at least for those whose minds are functioning properly.
2. Avery Dulles, Models of Revelation (New York: Doubleday, 1983; rev. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1992). I will loosely follow his approach, though diverge at points, especially with regard to what Dulles would surely see as minor differences within a larger family, but which are areas of great concern among Protestant evangelicals. Dulles outlines five major models of revelation.
3. It is true that some fundamentalist groups speak as though their doctrines are revelation, but their confidence in the propriety of their biblical interpretation should not be confused with the doctrinal claim that their doctrine itself is divinely inspired, is the revelation itself, and is therefore equal to Scripture in authority and status. However, closely related to these concepts is the Protestant Charismatic belief in the modern-day spiritual gift of prophecy. It is often conceived as very much the same sort of phenomenon as Old Testament prophecy. The prophet speaks forth the very words of God so that the words themselves are accorded the status of divine revelation. While in practice most who claim the gift of prophecy use it largely for exhortation and encouragement, there is nothing which precludes its use for presentation of new doctrinal teaching. In that case, it would fall within this category. There is a severe lack of clarity on these issues within conservative Protestant circles. Many evangelicals believe the spiritual gift of prophecy ceased at the death of the Apostles, though there is significant debate over the issue. Similarly, it is not uncommon to find proponents of the continuance of the spiritual gift of prophecy who are nevertheless uneasy with the implications of calling it revelation.
4. Abraham writes, “since the students will vary in ability, temperament, and interests, and since the intensity of their relationship [with the teacher] may also vary, it is perfectly in order to speak of degrees of inspiration. There is no guarantee that inspiration will be uniform, flat, or even in its effects.” The reason, Abraham goes on to say, is because the effectiveness of inspiration is as dependent upon the one inspired as it is on the one inspiring. William Abraham, The Divine Inspiration of Holy Scripture (New York: Oxford University Press, 1981), 63.
5. Abraham writes, “Any responsible and coherent account of inspiration must at least begin with the possibility that there is as much difference between divine inspiration and divine speaking as there is between human inspiration and human speaking. It must consider as a live option that divine inspiration is a basic act or activity of God that is not reducible to other divine acts or activity. It must not be confused with other activity of God, whether this be the creative activity of god or the speaking activity of God.” Ibid., 67.
6. See Carl F. H. Henry, God, Revelation, and Authority, 6 vols. (Waco, TX: Word, 1976; repr. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 1999), 4:144–61. Henry writes, “The Spirit of God made full use of the human capacities of the chosen writers so that their writings reflect psychological, biographical, and even sociohistorical differences.” Ibid., 4:148–49.
7. And so the doctrinal statement of the Evangelical Theological Society states, “The Bible alone, and the Bible in its entirety, is the Word of God written and is therefore inerrant in the autographs.” See any issue of JETS for a copy, or www.etsjets.org.
8. Concern over alleged errors in the Bible, along with distaste for the theological disputes over inerrancy, has led some to favor the use of the term, “infallibility.” While the term’s definition makes clear it is a synonym for “inerrancy,” it is not so used in theological discourse. Rather, infallibility has come to mean that the Bible is consistent, trustworthy, and not misleading with respect to doctrinal teaching and content, but may include errors of other sorts. Not surprisingly, this approach has met with criticism by proponents of inerrancy. The drafters of the Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy specifically addressed appeals to infallibility over against inerrancy in articles eleven and twelve: “We deny that it is possible for the Bible to be at the same time infallible and errant in its assertions. Infallibility and inerrancy may be distinguished, but not separated”; and “We deny that Biblical infallibility and inerrancy are limited to spiritual, religious, or redemptive themes, exclusive of assertions in the fields of history and science.” “Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy,” articles 11 and 12.
9. One of the most influential evangelical thinkers on this topic, Carl F. H. Henry, has argued that primacy should be given to divine authorship, to the extent that it is not really appropriate to speak, as I have above, of dual authorship. He writes, “while it is not quite correct to speak of a dual authorship or of a divine-human co-authorship of Scripture, the sacred writers were more than simply divine amanuenses, penmen, or secretaries; they themselves, on occasion, had amanuenses of their own. . . . The Holy Spirit’s inspiration of the chosen writers involves a special confluence of the divine and human.” Henry, God, Revelation and Authority, 4:142. Still, the language of dual authorship pervades evangelical theology. As Donald Bloesch has written, “The paradox is that Scripture is the Word of God as well as the words of mortals. It is both a human witness to God and God’s witness to himself. The Scriptures have a dual authorship.” Donald G. Bloesch, Holy Scripture: Revelation, Inspiration & Interpretation (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 1994), 87.
10. William Lane Craig, “‘Men Moved By the Holy Spirit Spoke from God’ (2 Peter 1:21): A Middle Knowledge Perspective on Biblical Inspiration,” Philosophia Christi 2, no. 1.1 (1999): 72–73.
11. Feinberg writes, “Given the details of this passage, we must accept either a dictation theory, which says God dictated exactly what the writers wrote, or a theory of inspiration consistent with compatibilism, which allows both God and the writer to be active in the process so as to guarantee that what God wanted was written.” John Feinberg, “God Ordains All Things,” in Basinger and Basinger, eds., Predestination & Free Will, 35.
12. While not stated, he clearly assumes the principle of dual authorship and rejects the dictation theory of inspiration, as the problem he raises assumes that the human author is an active participant in the composition of the text.
13. Bruce A. Ware, God’s Greater Glory: The Exalted God of Scripture and the Christian Faith (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2004), 25.
14. There is a hidden assumption here that the proponents of middle knowledge have claimed that God can get just whatever results he wishes through libertarianly free actions when he uses his middle knowledge to decide which world to actualize.
15. Flint writes, “Though they [defenders of papal infallibility] may well grant that there are possible worlds with fallible popes, they would insist that such worlds would have different histories from our own.… In a world where the doctrine has been proclaimed, though, there simply is no possibility of a papal ex cathedra error. . . . What confidence could one have that this isn’t one of those possible worlds in which the pope goes awry?” Thomas P. Flint, “Middle Knowledge and the Doctrine of Infallibility,” in Tomberlin, ed., Philosophical Perspectives, 385.
16. Flint, Divine Providence, 184.
17. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics I.2, Doctrine of the Word of God, trans. G. T. Thomson and Harold Knight, ed. Geoffrey W. Bromiley and Thomas F. Torrance (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1956), §19.2.4, 529.
18. Ibid., 529–30.
19. It is unclear whether Barth sees human finitude and fallibility as equally problematic as human depravity, as a contributing factor to human failings, or irrelevant to the issue. Here, his concern seems to be the idea that everything fallen persons do is tainted with sin so that even the pronouncements of a prophet or the writings of an apostle would be so infected and thereby, contain sin or error.
20. Evangelicals have long pointed out the fallacy in the logic: just because fallible humans can err, it does not follow that they must. In fact, it can be proven that, in many cases, fallible humans do not err. For example, while I am a fallible human, prone to many mistakes—my wife can attest to this better than just about anyone—and while I am certainly less godly than the authors of Scripture, I can still write a true and inerrant proposition (inerrant understood in its less theologically loaded meaning of simply, “without error): “1 + 1 = 2.” My writing true propositions requires no special sanctification, no special divine enablement, no intervention, and no overriding of my human faculties, and this was just one example of a virtually infinite number of propositions I can write: “I believe I was born in Montreal, Quebec,” “My daughters’ names are Sydney and Sophia,” “If one stands outside in the rain, he is likely to get wet,” and the like.
21. Craig writes, “Given Calvin’s strong views on divine providence, the answer would seem to be that a very rigid determinism is in place whereby God, through the use of all causes under His control shapes the biblical author like clay in such a way that he writes what God has predetermined. But this is worse than secretarial dictation; it is, in fact, strict mechanical dictation, for man has been reduced to the level of a machine. God’s causally determining Paul to write his Epistle to the Romans is incompatible with Paul’s freely writing that epistle, on any plausible account of freedom.” Craig, “Men Moved by the Holy Spirit,” 63.
22. Ibid., 66.
23. Benjamin B. Warfield, “Biblical Idea of Inspiration,” in Inspiration and Authority of the Bible, ed. Samuel G. Craig (Philadelphia: Presbyterian & Reformed, 1970), 154–55.
24. There is here, of course, an analogy to the so-called “Problem of Evil.” Calvinists have to argue that God could have reduced evil, but chose not to. One the one hand, Calvinsits seem committed to the thesis that God could do just anything, as they are exceedingly uncomfortable with Molinist restrictions on what God can do (apart from restrictions due to his nature or logic). So it seems that they suggest that God could, for example, maximize his glory with no humans sinning. On the other hand, Calvinists have consistently maintained that the evil in this world, down to the specifics, are just as they are because they contribute to God’s purposes and good pleasure for this world. So, it seems that they suggest that God could not, for example, maximize his glory with no one sinning. Let’s suppose that the latter is the more correct Calvinist position and that the former is a mischaracterization. The implications for biblical inspiration are not inconsequential. Each and every word included in the canonical books are the best words God could have chosen for his revelation.
25. Bart D. Ehrman, Misquoting Jesus: The Story Behind Who Changed the Bible and Why (San Francisco: HarperOne, 2007), 11–12.
26. Craig, “Men Moved by the Holy Spirit,” 73.
27. Harold Lindsell, Battle for the Bible (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1978), 33.
28. Benjamin B. Warfield, “Revelation,” in International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, ed. James Orr, 4 vols. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1939), 4:2580a.
29. Henry, God, Revelation and Authority, 4:141.
30. Bloesch, Holy Scripture, 121.
31. Walter Kaiser, Jr. and Moises Silva, Introduction to Biblical Hermeneutics, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007), 61.
32. Gnosticism refers to the movement found in many religions of the ancient Near East that saw salvation as grounded in some form of special knowledge, usually hidden to outsiders. It made its way into the early Christian church and developed a reading of the biblical text in a way to uncover the hidden truths of God.
33. Grant R. Osborne, The Hermeneutical Spiral (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 1991), 88.
34. Gordon Lewis, “The Human Authorship of Inspired Scripture,” in Inerrancy, ed. Norman Geisler (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1980). Lewis writes, “The supernatural aspect of inspiration is not dictation apart from human means, but the extraordinary use of human means such as research (Luke 1:1–4), memory (of events in Christ’s life), and judgment (1 Cor. 7:25), so that what was written conformed to God’s mind on the subject and did not teach error of fact, doctrine or judgment.” Ibid., 256.
35. Geoffrey W. Bromiley, “The Church Doctrine of Inspiration,” in Revelation and the Bible: Contemporary Evangelical Thought, ed. Carl F. H. Henry (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1958), 217.