Fair Use of the Term “Biblicism”

For those who do not know, I have signed a contract with Berith Press to write a book by the title Against Biblicism. A few early reactions have provided useful material for the first chapter which is already designed to address the definition problem. These early concerns have essentially said: “You have a definition problem first!” My reply: Yes, I agree. That is actually what Chapter 1 will address. So I welcome any resources that have been produced that attempt to say that the present critics of biblicism are getting it all wrong. A few preliminary points were set forth for the early critic to consider. Six to be exact:

Preliminary 1. What I mean by biblicism is not what the Reformers meant by sola Scriptura. Accordingly, the label is not being used by most retrievalists today to describe the Reformed prioritizing Scripture over confessional or historical lenses as the supreme judge in controversies.

Preliminary 2. To the claim that any critique of biblicism must criticize by that name only what those who use that name for themselves mean by it—respectfully, I disagree. For two simple reasons: First, if there is a broader phenomena that this name fits better than even the self-identified use (especially one that is not broadly used across an entire church tradition), then that is reason enough to use the term. Second, most who theologize or interpret in this broad way do not in fact self-identify as anything, let alone as biblicists. So it is intrinsically clarifying.

Preliminary 3. In doing so, I can still be fair to those who do use the term for themselves. How? By treating their claims in a distinct section and making it plain that those criticisms that do not apply to them, well, do not.

Preliminary 4. The present critical use of “biblicism” is misunderstood when it is reduced entirely to the dichotomy of Scripture and tradition. This is one clue, incidentally, as to why those who are uneasy conceive of this discussion as a recapitulation of the Roman Catholic polemic. Early critics have mentioned similar descriptions and culprits offered by Matthew Barrett. I agree with Dr. Barrett’s six features of biblicism he lists in the book, Reformation As Renewal.1 I will seek to unpack some of those points and expand upon them, but yes, I agree with him that those six are, in a sense, cut from the same cloth. As to the reduction of the matter to “Scripture-versus-tradition,” the careful reader of that section in Barrett’s book will note that an “ahistorical mindset” is only one of the six attributes. This ought to be a clue to pause and reconsider whether one has understood even the surface of how we are using the word.

Preliminary 5. An alternative label can often be used in similar contexts. Here it is more difficult. When I first ran into it as a Christian, I called it “hyper-inductivism.” The trouble with that label is that it skips ahead to one of the essential elements, and in doing so violates a few of the basic rules for definitions. A definition “should not be too broad or too narrow” nor “unclear.”2 For those without a background in basic logic and philosophical reasoning, the word induction is ambiguous at best. I concluded at some point that biblicism is a much more clarifying label for this than hyper-inductivism. The word should not suggest “too much Bible,” but rather “too isolated” or “too random” or “too obscure” an appeal to the Bible.

Preliminary 6. For anyone who is an early critic, I offer this challenge. Such a person will likely agree with me about much that I place on the spectrum of biblicism, but (a) still disagree with the label and (b) disagree that other errors placed there are really of the same kind. To such I would only say: Wait for the book. Who knows what common ground we may have!

Again, I can promise fairness in not applying the concept to those who do not hold to it. I cannot promise agreement with anyone who does not share what I perceive to be common properties, common causes, and common consequences between those things I see as characteristics of biblicism.

I take it that this friendly gesture was accepted by some. However, I discovered that it was not by all. Even in the latter case, criticism can be turned into constructive material for a more refined definition. By ignoring such a refining process, self-identifying “biblicists” today begin by saying we are using the word incorrectly. After discovering that we have something else in mind, they switch grounds to claiming that such an alternative use is improper. The ground on which they announce this restriction is that their use has the history of Reformed theology on their side. We reply that this is demonstrably false. That is not all we say, but this alleged pedigree is the place to start.

The Mirage of Magisterial Biblicism

One argument that contemporary biblicists in the Reformed world make is that the term biblicism was used by Roman Catholic critics of the Protestant doctrine, and even by Protestants to self-identify.

Exhibit A was produced from the Anglican archbishop, Thomas Tenison (1636 – 1715). It was said that for him “biblicism” is what the Reformed embraced as theirs—the very same pejorative aimed at them by the Papists. So he writes,

The faith of the Reformed has, by Some of their Adversaries of the Roman Persuasion, been called Biblism: And they themselves have had the Name of Biblists (a) given to them. And these they look upon as Names of Honour, though they were intended as marks of Infamy by the Inventors of them; for it is both a safe and worthy practice, to take, for their Rule, the Word of God, rather than the Word of Man.

Amen to all of that! Now let us see how this helps us in our discussion.

The first problem appears at the very surface of the text cited. The word that is used is actually “Biblist” and not “biblicist.” Someone may reply, “Tomāto-tomăto—you know very well what they meant!” We will see shortly what an ironic response that is, given the weight that we are being told to put on the word itself against what other thing it might represent. But let us grant the point for the sake of argument, in order to at least consider the record. There are other places where the fuller word “biblicist” occurs. Interestingly, there is one citation from Oosterzees calling it “idolatry of the letter.” That could potentially mean a few things, but theoretically can get us closer to what Augustine meant (which I will come to shortly).

Where, though, is the word “biblicist” (even as Biblist) in the writings of the magisterial Reformers of the sixteenth century and Reformed Orthodox of the seventeenth century, being used as a badge of honor for the way that it is meant in our discussion? If it was used generically to cast aspersions on the Protestants, as the excerpt from Tenison made plain that it was being used to describe “the faith of the Reformed,” then we must refine our question. Can the critics show consistent usage of this word to describe more narrowly the Reformed doctrine of Scripture, much less as a description of an epistemological analysis of how Scripture interacts with reason and tradition, such as we are discussing? I will stand corrected if anyone rises to that challenge, though I do not expect it.   

Let us even suppose that the word was used to directly contradict the Romanist’s more general slander of the Reformed doctrine of Scripture. What then? What would be the threshold that would have to be crossed to establish that the word “biblicism” must mean the same as a commitment to sola Scriptura? What also of all the Reformed who have attempted to distinguish between those? Were they wrong to do so? I can appreciate the person who asks for fairness in this way: “As a Calvinist, you do not appreciate when someone uses the word to label a straw man, do you?” I confess that I do not. But that still does not address where the line is between a consensus term and a word that may reasonably be used in multiple ways. As to straw men, those are relative to usage. When terms can be clarified by even one modifying adjective, it is best to simply add the adjective and distinguish in good faith, rather than take offense and deny any such word.

I said before that we may grant the word similarity for the moment, just for the sake of argument. However, as it is, the word is an anachronism in this context. Here we have today’s biblicists making a fuss that exact word use is paramount, until, that is, we find out that it is not the exact same word. Now it is the concept that counts. Yet for us, the concept is not allowed to count for anything. Hence, the word must mean whatever they want it to mean, even if it is not the same word, and all because they are afraid that we will mean what the Roman Catholics meant, no matter how many ways that we explain that we do not. There are very few ways to slice this into a serious position. We are forced to address it because it is a very loud position.

An Exercise in Analogy

Romans of the first few centuries A.D. would use the pejorative “cannibalism” to refer to an early Christian practice that they did not understand. So we are told by historians. It turns out, our English word has a more modern origin. But that will actually make the point even better. A few relevant observations about this pejorative use.

(1) Those Romans were wrong. In fact, participation in the Lord’s Supper was not cannibalism.

(2) Cannibalism is in fact a real thing.

(3) Consequently, the pejorative was incorrect because it did not accurately represent the practice—not because it was not a real thing.

(4) What made the correspondence of the pejorative to the practice false was not reducible to the word level, but, more ultimately, to the ontological level. “The thing” was simply not the same thing.

(5) I do not believe that the way to combat such a pejorative is to identify with the term “cannibalist,” while getting upset at others who still do associate the word with the actual practice of eating people.

(6) If anyone can be found in that same period who wore the label as a badge of honor in order to combat the pejorative, it still doesn’t shift the meaning of “the thing” (e.g. eating other people) to the thing falsely associated (e.g. participating in the Lord’s Supper).

This analogy was not lost on my critics. Well, at least what I was addressing was not lost on them. The essence of the analogy itself—that was another matter. It was an analogy between the pejorative use of the word “cannibalist” with the pejorative use of the word “biblicist.” The analogy was vehemently opposed shortly after I presented it. But what exactly was the nature of the analogy? My critics might have taken a bit longer to reflect upon that. A false analogy occurs when the relevant common properties are not in fact shared between the two referents being compared. We are often told with an air of finality: All analogies break down! Indeed. Analogy is not identity. It is not exactness; it is likeness. A valid analogy need only show a sufficient likeness in the relevant common properties. One therefore needs to know which are relevant to the analogy.

A part of my early audience saw the analogy of no effect because the words “Christian” and “Puritan” were likewise terms of derision that were then worn as badges of honor. This is obviously question-begging and raises the question of false analogy on the other side. In other words, are these simple mockings, exaggerations, slanders, inaccuracies about viewpoints? Beyond that, it ignores whether the Reformed movement as a rule adopted such an epithet. I have already shown that they did not, and so this is irrelevant. Another part of my audience fixated on the obvious evil of cannibalism and the obvious good of appealing to the Bible—even, at the very least, the potential goodness of appealing to the Bible in a wrongheaded way. This too missed the relevant points of the analogy. My purpose in adding six points to consider the analogy was to avoid such lack of focus.

The point is that neither the derisive critics (Romanists) nor the defiant self-identifiers (representative Protestants) have cornered the market on the meaning of a term simply because they spoke past each other about it a few centuries ago. If the term did not catch on the way either side may have wanted it to, during the interim period—and it did not—then there is simply nothing objective going for the claimed trademark. This is all the more so in a dispute in which one side has been uncharitable and the other side obtuse.

The Irony of Missing the Thing for the Word

At the core of biblicism is what Augustine had in mind in saying,

He is a slave to a sign who uses or worships a significant thing without knowing what it signifies.3

Recall that one of the characteristics Dr. Barrett’s assigns to biblicism was univocal predication. This is to ascribe a meaning to a term (A) that is identical to the same term (A) without appreciation for synonyms, homonyms, figurative speech, or diverse contexts and modes of relation. We are unsurprised, then, to find self-identified biblicists telling us why we cannot use the word “biblicist” with anything other than what has been univocally predicated in their struggle session with those they regard to be Romanizing. We must move beneath the surface of signs to their substance.

If Romanist critics were wrong about the Protestant doctrine of Scripture but right that hyper-inductive appeals to Scripture are simplistic—and right insofar as there is such a thing—then the real gap was between the doctrine they erroneously maligned and the phenomena they wrongly attributed to it. It is a distinct question whether the phenomena is real, though not attributable to the Protestant doctrine. Critics of using the term “biblicism” to describe that phenomenon may employ other arguments to show that it is also inappropriate for this, but they have not satisfied that burden by merely repeating that “that’s what Romanists said” or “these Protestants defiantly fired back attributing that (or a similar) word to their own view.” As I have just explained, that is not what either side did. There is a different that. Consider the following syllogism under this form:

1. All S is M.

2. All M is P.

∴ All S is P.

Or, in other words:

All Protestant theologizing is a final appeal to Scripture.

All final appeals to Scripture are exclusive appeals to Scripture (or biblicism).

All Protestant theologizing is an exclusive appeal to Scripture (or biblicism).

The Romanists in question attributed thing S to thing M by the word signified by P.  Where then is the fallacy? Surely it is in the false equivalence of M to P—i.e., thing to thing—and not the correspondence of P to “biblicism”—i.e., word to thing. Now, as I said above, if someone wants to make some additional argument to show an unfitting correspondence of the term “biblicism” to the thing directly signified by P, they may do so. But they must do so on other grounds. Simply retracing the Romanist’s steps here and noting that, “That’s what Romanists said,” is actually flatly incorrect. They said not merely that “Biblicism is a term fittingly describing a hyper-inductive or atomistic appeal to Scripture.” Rather, they said: The Protestant doctrine is that hyper-inductive or atomistic appeal to Scripture. We may agree with them about the former without giving an inch on the latter.

Some Will Still Say that it is Confusing or Divisive

The truth about both confusion and division is that these may be either caused or else recognized as caused. A thing may already be confusing and divisive, and yet by allowing it to go on as it has, we are not helping matters as much as we think we are.

It will be said that our use of the word “biblicism” is confusing. Here I am now speaking about the potential confusion to more simple believers who see nothing more than a derivative of the word “Bible” and take it to be an attack on Scripture. I do not deny that there is this potential. I beg to differ on the source of the confusion. We maintain that the phenomenon itself, namely biblicism—reigning as the functional hermeneutic of modern Evangelicalism—keeps Christians in a state of forced ignorance. It presents before their eyes only a million scattered puzzle pieces on the table and does not allow them to ever see the box top. Their minds are perfectly able, by the Spirit, to put those pieces together in time, as the picture is viewed; but if all their teachers keep telling them is to look away from all that as “human systems” and “the traditions of men” and “autonomous reason” and the like, then we maintain that the confusion comes not from the one who reestablishes the box top, but from the ones who scattered the pieces.

It has also been said that this word is divisive. Without in any way claiming that those on the other side of this debate are heterodox in their basic doctrine of Scripture, I would still recall the words of J. Gresham Machen in his response to this very charge about liberalism (and I beg the reader to remember what was just said above about true and false analogies!). He said,

It is often said that the divided condition of Christendom is an evil, and so it is. But the evil consists in the existence of the errors which cause the divisions and not at all in the recognition of those errors when once they exist.4

The majority report throughout church history, and no less among the early Reformed tradition, is that while Scripture alone is the final authority in all matters of faith and practice, it is not understood and related to doctrine apart from reason and nature, creeds and confessions, anymore than apart from preaching and prayer.  If the church is divided over the substance of what biblicism is, then it is biblicism that is the newcomer and therefore the divisive agent. To wrongly divide the word is to divide that which the word is most designed to create. There is no coincidence that Augustine, Calvin, and Turretin, just to name a few, all made note of how the anti-trinitarian heretics of the earliest centuries took final refuge in words like “Trinity” or homoousios being extra-biblical. There is an unaccountability that emerges when our expansion of clarifying distinctions are silenced. This is not to say that today’s biblicists have such motives. It is rather that, being ignorant of the connection, they leave the church exposed to a strategy long employed by the enemies of God’s truth.

I also realize that I have not offered a definition of my own here. That also is what the first chapter is about. I will say that it will have those six points of Barrett’s in view, and it will likely use words like “atomistic” or “exclusive” or “without respect to.” I am happy to sit on that definition for a while as it deserves great care. Remember something in all of this: No man, excepting Jesus Himself, has ever had a high enough view of Scripture in the whole of his life. I think that those who are concerned about my use of the word “biblicism” and those who already use it in this way, will all agree with this important point. The purpose of articulating an epistemology rightly relating Scripture to reason and nature, creed and confession, preaching and prayer—is solely to raise our esteem for Scripture, to appeal to it in a way that honors God most.

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1. Matthew Barrett, The Reformation as Renewal: Retrieving the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2023), 21.

2. James B. Nance & Douglas Wilson, Introductory Logic: The Fundamentals of Thinking Well, Fourth Edition (Moscow: Canon Press, 2006), 34.

3. Augustine, On Christian Doctrine, III.9.13.

4. J. Gresham Machen, Christianity and Liberalism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1923), 50