Here in Part 2 of my analysis of Hugh Ross’ book, Rescuing Inerrancy, we will look at Chapters 5-9.
Chapter 5: Dual Revelation and Inerrancy in Church History
In Chapter 5, Ross pushes back on the claims of some recent Christian scholars that the concepts of “dual revelation” and “biblical inerrancy” and “concordance” are “recent doctrinal developments.” He does this by going through Church History and attempting to show that these concepts were, in fact, concepts throughout Church History. He does acknowledge that terms like “dual revelation,” “inerrancy,” and “concordance” aren’t found in the early writings of the Church but then asserts that it just reflects “unquestioned acceptance” of these concepts by the early Church. That is what is known as an argument from silence.
In any case, when it comes to his referencing of various figures throughout Church history, I have to say that those he refers to are not saying what he claims they are saying. Remember, his claim is that the concepts of “dual revelation,” “biblical inerrancy,” and “concordance” have been held throughout Church history. With that in mind, let’s see what he says about various figures.
- Ross begins with a general statement that although the early Church Fathers differed in their interpretations of Genesis 1, “they were unanimous in asserting that Genesis 1 was a factual account of the historical creation of the universe” (49).
- Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria, and Origen: Argued that truth is no limited to the Bible, that all truth is God’s truth, and that philosophy and science are “handmaids” to Christian theology.
- Tertullian: Argued that nature shouldn’t be worshipped or repudiated, and that things like the immortality of the soul can be known by nature.
- Irenaeus: Argued that the Scriptures are perfect and spoken by the Word of God.
- All the Early Church Fathers: Affirmed that the Bible does not contradict itself.
I don’t find this argument and examples to be really convincing because I don’t believe Ross has adequately explained what he means by these terms. The fundamental issue of the book centers on biblical inerrancy—but we need to be clear on what that means. I wrote a couple of blog posts on inerrancy in the past (here and here) and I encourage you to read them. I find the concept of inerrancy to be a modern concept that ultimately is redundant. Yes, the Bible is true in what it teaches—but the idea of being “without error” seems to carry with it the assumption that the Bible is all about facts alone. So, for example, if I say that Genesis 1 isn’t trying to do history or give scientific facts, I’m not saying it is “wrong” or “contains errors,” because I am convinced that it is not trying to do history or give scientific facts to begin with. I’m saying Genesis 1 is wholly true in what it is teaching…but it’s not trying to do history or science. Ross, though, seems to think that if you say Genesis 1 isn’t ultimately about actual historical events and scientific facts, then you’re saying it “isn’t true” and “contains errors.” That’s a problem.
As for these early Church Fathers, the fact is that they did not all claim Genesis 1 was a “factual account of the historical creation of the universe.” Yes, they obviously believed the universe was created by God, and yes, they believed Genesis 1 is teaching that—but to claim that means they read Genesis as a factual, historical account simply isn’t true. And one can look at all the examples Ross gives above and see that none of it—and I mean none of it—shows the early Church Fathers saying what Ross claims they were saying. Sure, there is truth outside of the Bible; sure, philosophy and science and serve theology—those things don’t equate with saying Genesis 1 is a historical factual account.
Through the rest of the chapter, Ross mentions people like Athanasius, Augustine, Jerome, as well as a number of medieval scholars and Reformation thinkers. But all of the examples don’t really back up what Ross is claiming. For example, Augustine affirmed that the Bible is “divinely inspired Scripture.” Yes, but inspiration and inerrancy are not the same things. The medieval scholars argued that we can learn about God through nature. Yes, but what does that have to do with inerrancy? You might say it proves that they accepted the concept of “dual revelation”—okay, but that really has never been in question. Of course, nature can give us clues about God. But that is far different from claiming Genesis 1 has to be a historical factual account.
Ross ends the chapter with a quote from Norman Geisler: “Inerrancy was indeed believed by Augustine, Aquinas, Calvin, Luther and virtually all the great theologians in the history of the Church till modern times” (56). I’m sorry, but this is misleading—not purposely—but misleading, nonetheless. When recent Christian scholars say “inerrancy” is a recent development, they are referring to when it was introduced in the early 1900s by the original Fundamentalists as a way to combat the theological liberalism of the 1800s. They are not conflating that with the claim throughout Church history that the Bible is inspired and true. Yes, Church Fathers and theologians throughout history have affirmed that. The question, rather, is whether or not they affirmed “inerrancy” in the way Ross is using it—namely, that Genesis 1 is a historical, factual account.
Chapter 6: Dual Revelation and Inerrancy in the Bible and the Creeds
Ross continues in the same vein of Chapter 5, but here in Chapter 6 he focuses on the Bible and the Creeds. He begins the chapter by saying, “For God to make himself known in a deceptive or misleading way would carry alarming implications about his transcendent moral character as well as his power to communicate effectively” (59). Therefore, in the course of the chapter, he argues, since the Old Testament is spiritually authoritative, then it “sufficiently establishes believe in dual revelation…and biblical inerrancy” (61). He cites the Belgic Confession and the Westminster Confession—specifically their claims of the authority and inspiration of the Bible—to make that point.
Okay, so what does that mean? Ross doesn’t really spell it out in this chapter. In the course of the book, though, it clearly comes to mean, “Since the Bible is authoritative, the creation accounts must be historically and factually true.” Why? Inerrancy—it’s without factual errors. Why? Dual revelation—it means that there must be a “harmonious relationship—and overlapping content—between the Word [the book of Scripture] and the world [the book of nature]” (65).
In an odd way, it seems that Ross’ fundamental assumption regarding the Bible—specifically the creation accounts—are surprisingly similar to those of YECist Ken Ham. That assumption is this: since the Bible is authoritative and inspired, that means the creation accounts in the Bible must be historical and scientific…because the Bible is inerrant, and therefore must be doing science and history in those creation accounts. The only difference is that Ross interprets Genesis 1 in a different “scientific way” than Ken Ham does. But they are both working from the same fundamental assumption.
Chapter 7: Concordism and Science
It is in Chapter 7 that Ross tells us that he believes the day-age understanding of Genesis 1 brings harmony between science and the biblical account as it pertains to timescales. He further states that a “logically consistent view of biblical inerrancy” implies three spheres of concordance: historical, scientific, and theological. He states, “If the Bible is theologically concordant, it will also be historically and scientifically concordant” (68).
This view, though, according to Ross, has been questioned ever since the Human Genome Project came out with its findings. He then cites the likes of Denis Lamoureaux, John Walton, William Lane Craig, Peter Enns, Michael Heiser, and Kenton Sparks, all of whom have come out rejecting concordism and claiming that the Holy Spirit “tolerated the mistaken scientific notions of the biblical authors” (68). Ross argues, though, that this rejection of concordism is rooted in the false assumption that a historical reading of Genesis 1-2 “requires interpreting the creation days as seven 24-hour days” (68).
After that, Ross then devotes a few pages arguing that it was precisely the biblical worldview that viewed nature as a good thing that deserved to be studied that gave rise to modern science. This is true, of course, but I failed to see what it had to do with whether or not Genesis 1-2 was a historical factual account.
Ross also touches about the notion that the Bible and science contradict each other. He specifically singles out Peter Enns and Kenton Sparks for claiming this. Ross’ response is that such claims of “contradiction” often come from reading a particular biblical passage in the worst possible light. He then says, “When the biblical writers are granted even a reasonable benefit of the doubt, however, the Bible remains free of contradiction” (73).
The problem with that view (that the Bible is free from contradicting science), as well as the view pushed by some scholars (that the Bible is, in fact, in contradiction with science) is that both are rested on the assumption that the Bible and modern science are trying to do the same thing. Even though I like much of Enns’ work, sometimes I find it grating to hear him make those assertions—because in order for two things to “contradict,” you have to first establish that those two things are, in fact, attempting to do the same thing. They are not. The Bible is not trying to “do science.” It is not that it is trying to “do science,” but just gets it wrong. It’s not trying to “do science” in the first place—therefore you can’t say that it “runs contrary to science.”
Therefore, when Ross claims at the end of the chapter, “The fact that both Christian theology and the scientific enterprise passionately seek to discover, explore, and understand what is true, what is real, argues in favor of concordance between the two” (76), I have to say, “No—they are two different areas of knowledge. Science is concerned with discovering facts about the natural world; Christian theology is concerned with articulating the truth about the nature of God and Man, the purpose of the universe, and the reality of salvation.”
Chapter 8: Bible-and-Science Models
Chapter 8 is a very short chapter, and there is not much to say about it. In it, Ross points out that YECists (like Ken Ham) take the approach that the Bible and modern science are essentially enemies, and that scientists need to “put on biblical glasses,” meaning they have to accept the YECist interpretation of the scientific data. Not surprisingly, because of this absurd stance, many atheists and agnostics mock Christianity as a whole. Ross correctly says, “This clash has done significant damage to the advance of the gospel and to the unity that Jesus has called Christian believers to” (78).
Ross also touches upon theistic evolutionism/evolutionary creationism and its general acceptance of Stephen Jay Gould’s idea of NOMA—nonoverlapping magisterial—that the Bible and science are two completely different areas of knowledge. Ross obviously rejects this, though, because it entails a rejection of concordism. He ends the chapter by again making the claim that the “book of Scripture” and the “book of nature” need to concord: “If both the literal book of Scripture and the tangible book of nature reveal our desperate need for—and God’s provision of—a divine Redeemer, we can reasonably expect the two books to be concordant” (81).
I simply find this claim to be unnecessary and, ultimately, illogical. It seems Ross is arguing that since there is “dual revelation” that the “book of Scripture” and the “book of nature” must line up on multiple levels, specifically historically and scientifically. Why? Does he not realize that the “revelation” in this “book of nature” is clearly not the same kind of “revelation” as in Scripture? Heck, this “book of nature” isn’t even a literal book—the very term is a METAPHOR. So, it strikes me as odd that to even get to the point where he argues that the “two books” must be concordant in terms of literal history and science, Ross has to use a metaphor to describe what nature is.
Granted, I think some scholars do, in fact, “muddy the waters” with the way they talk about Scripture, science, and history. We’ll address some examples later on in the series. But Ross’ claim about how these “two books” must be concordant when it comes to science and history simply is not convincing. Why? Because nature is not a “book,” and what it “reveals” about God is only highly-generalized at best and does not reveal anything specific about Christ at all. I simply do not get this insistence that the “two books” need to concord historically and scientifically.
Chapter 9: Concordism in Other Faiths
This chapter can be summarized quite quickly. Ross goes through a number of other faiths and cults and shows how adherents to those faiths have tried to make their scriptures “concord” with science. They, he argues, are wrong. Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean Christianity shouldn’t try to “concord” the Bible with science: “Christianity will be overshadowed by religions that do promote (falsely but boldly) the predictive power of their scriptures. We also risk having our faith dismissed by non-Christians for offering no scientific truth by which to test or falsify it” (101).
Again, this does not make sense to me. Ross is clearly giving the impression that the way to “prove” Christianity is true is by proving it scientifically. He sees concordism as a great tool for evangelism. Maybe it would be better to admit the Bible isn’t trying to give scientific information in the first place. Maybe we should be better readers of the Bible and understand the books and passages that do, in fact, make clear historical claims, as opposed to those that are not doing so—and then let’s interpret them correctly according to their intended—and inspired—genre. If Genesis 1-11 isn’t intending to do history or give a scientific account, then to try to force it to “concord” with science and history is to, in fact, distort its inspired message.
