Tag Archives: Biblical interpretation

The New Testament isn’t legal code

Last week I mentioned that I reject the idea that the New Testament is a constitution. There’s a lot of things that the New Testament isn’t. It’s not a love letter from God. It’s not a science text. It’s not a history book. It’s not legal code.

I do believe that the New Testament is scripture. The different books inspired, sacred writings. There is a human element to them, which explains the differences in writing styles, but that does not mean they are limited by human fallibility. They are inspired books, unique in that way. We can apply certain literary principles that we would apply to the reading of any book, yet we must recognize that they are different from all other books.

There is legal code in the Bible. It’s not hard to recognize. Read the Torah and you will several sections of legal code. Take a chapter like Exodus 25 and lay it alongside any of Paul’s epistles, and you’ll quickly realize that Paul isn’t writing legal code.

Paul is writing letters, letters motivated by specific situations and written to address those situations. That’s what we mean when we say they are occasional, they were written in a specific context for that context. While this seems less true for some of the other writers (Peter and James seem to address a wider audience), yet each letter was written for some specific purpose. And none of them was written for the purpose of establishing a constitution for the Lord’s church.

That’s not to say that nothing in those letters is of general application. Much that is said applies to all Christians, everywhere. But we won’t find that by reading the New Testament the same way we would read the U.S. Constitution.

Does it matter? How do things change when we read the New Testament as if it were a series of statutes and laws? What role do literary genres play in our understanding of the Bible?

Expedients in worship

As Travis pointed out last week, at some point in this discussion we need to turn our attention to the topic of “expedients.” Not sure that this is directly tied to CENI, as much as it is to the underlying Regulative Principle of Worship (which basically argues that anything not specifically “authorized” as something that may be done in worship should be considered as forbidden; silence means prohibition).

As we look at what has been authorized for Christian worship, we typically use CENI (commands, examples, necessary inference) as the basis for that authorization. The question then arises: what do we do with things not contemplated in Scripture?

The first response would be to consider all of those things to be foreign to Christian worship, but that’s hardly practical. Does that mean we can’t have a church building? Can’t use microphones? Can’t use hymnals and bound Bibles? No communion trays, communion tables, collection baskets, pulpits…

The Reformed movement, which relies heavily on the regulative principle, divides worship into the elements (parts or substances are terms that are also used) and the circumstances. The circumstances are “the specific ways in which we carry out the elements, such as the specific words of hymns, prayers, and sermons in a particular service.” 1 There’s some variance in the terminology, but that’s the basic idea.

In the Restoration Movement, we’ve tended to call those “circumstances” expedients. Expedients are those things considered necessary to the carrying out of prescribed acts (“in an orderly way” is often added to that description). Therefore, since we’ve been told to sing, a song leader is considered to be an expedient as is the use of songbooks. We’ve been told to take the Lord’s Supper, so communion trays are considered to be an expedient.

The problem should be obvious. One man’s expedient is another man’s innovation. Many argue that song leaders are an expedient, while praise teams are an innovation. Others say that one cup for communion is an expedient; trays with multiple cups are an innovation. If things were not subjective enough with this whole process, the concept of “expedients” throws us fully into the arena of human opinion. As John Frame states:

Even granting the legitimacy of the distinction between elements and circumstances, applying it is not easy. Is song in worship an element, as John Murray taught, or is it a “form” or “circumstance,” a way of praying and teaching? Is instrumental music an element (as the covenanter tradition holds) or a circumstance (helping the congregation to sing in a decent and orderly way)? Is a marriage essentially a taking of vows and therefore a proper element of worship, or is it part of a broad group of activities that should be excluded from worship because it is not prescribed?

Can you help us out, dear reader? We’ve had great comments over the last few weeks, so I have high hopes that trend will continue. How do we differentiate between what are acceptable expedients for carrying out that which is authorized from human innovations that represent a rebellion against God’s prescribed order? I don’t have a good answer. Do you?


1John Frame, A Fresh Look At The Regulative Principle
2Ibid.

Photo by Amy Aldworth

In praise of CENI

This is a good point, I think, to stop and say some good things about CENI, the idea of looking in the Bible for commands, examples and necessary inferences. I’ve tried to emphasize throughout that my problem is with the use of CENI as a hermeneutic. I object to the idea that says “Just look for commands, examples and inferences, and you’ll know what God wants.” That doesn’t work.

A few other things that I disagree with:

  • The idea that the Bible “authorizes” certain things to be done in worship. The concept of authorization is foreign to the New Testament. (So yes, I reject the regulative principle)
  • The idea that the New Testament was written to be a constitution. Reading the Bible as legal code fails to recognize the text for what it is: an ancient sacred text. It’s not a science book. It’s not a history book. It’s not legal code. It’s not even a love letter, which was a popular concept not long ago. It is a collection of the writings of God’s people. They are occasional writings. They have a teaching purpose, even the books that seem to be mere narrative or poetry. They are not law code.
  • The idea that we are to restore the first century church. (Which one? The Jerusalem church that was “zealous for the Law”? The Corinthian church with its divisions? The Ephesian church that was plagued by false teachers? The Thessalonian church that had lazy members?) We are to attempt to be the church that God wants us to be. We should be a biblical church, seeking to live out the norms of the Bible in a twenty-first century world. The goal of the early church was to be like Jesus. We should imitate that goal. We don’t try to be like the first-century church. We try to be like Jesus.

That being said, I like the idea of looking to the early Christians to learn about how to please God. I believe that we, as Luke says of the Jerusalem Christians, should devote ourselves to the teachings of the apostles. We should examine the commands given in the New Testament, analyze them and learn from them. Some are obviously temporal in nature; others seem to have a longer reach.

We should look to the example of the early church and learn from that example. I should say “examples,” I guess, for there are multiple examples. There are things we should imitate about the early church. There are things we should avoid. And inferences are part of how we come to understand these stories.

Unless we’re going to deem the New Testament record irrelevant, we will look at the commands and examples of the Bible and consider the inferences we make from them. In that respect, CENI is great. Long live CENI. But as a hermeneutic, it’s a failure. It’s a way of putting ourselves in the seat of Law Giver, when that seat is already occupied. It’s way of taking our opinions and making them laws, of codifying our traditions.

Obviously there’s a lot more to say on this subject. We’ll continue the discussion. I just want to make sure that I give commands, examples and inferences the respect they deserve.

How CENI fails us: A study of 1 Corinthians 16

For me, 1 Corinthians 16 is the poster child for the “CENI doesn’t work as a hermeneutic” campaign. The first part of that chapter has been very popular among those who rely on commands, examples and necessary inferences for their biblical interpretation. The first paragraph of that chapter reads:

“Now concerning the collection for the saints: as I directed the churches of Galatia, so you also are to do. On the first day of every week, each of you is to put something aside and store it up, as he may prosper, so that there will be no collecting when I come. And when I arrive, I will send those whom you accredit by letter to carry your gift to Jerusalem. If it seems advisable that I should go also, they will accompany me.” (1 Corinthians 16:1–4)

We have a command: put something aside and store it up (on the first day of the week).
We have an inference: for this to be a collection, one would assume that the church would be gathered. Therefore, we can infer that the church gathered on the first day of the week.
Many find another inference: the collection is “for the saints.” Therefore, the collection is for the church and its needs.

That’s all well and good, unless we’re interested in what this passage is saying. This is rather obviously a special collection, one that we read of numerous times in the New Testament: a collection for the poor saints in Jerusalem. This was not the gathering of funds for the Corinthian church to use locally. This particular collection seems to have been of limited duration, since Paul says that he doesn’t want collections to have to be done when he is there. This mode of gathering money is something that Paul had taught in Galatia and now in Macedonia; it’s not something that he has taught everywhere he has gone. It’s not standard practice in the church. And if we’re going to follow these teachings to the letter, we’re going to have to hold our funds until Paul comes and they can be sent on to Jerusalem!

So how did we come to use it for our regular Sunday offering? In the first place, since we can’t start at zero, we started where we already were. We took a practice that was already in place (collections on Sunday) and looked for biblical support. That sounds good, but isn’t it healthier to start with the Bible and work out, rather than the other way around? Rather than saying, “How can I justify this?,” we would need to ask, “If I had never heard of this practice, would I come upon it merely by reading Scripture?”

But starting where we were, we then applied the subjective hermeneutic of CENI to make the passage say what we needed it to say, rather than the original message to speak.

Can CENI be applied objectively as a hermeneutic? It’s hard for me to see that. There are too many decisions that need to be made that go beyond the scope of CENI. Could CENI be included as part of an objective hermeneutic? Yeah, maybe. But on it’s own, it’s merely a too for making scripture say what the interpreter desires.

Photo by Amy Aldworth

Necessary inferences, unnecessary inferences and desired inferences

The weakest link in the CENI hermeneutical chain is that of inferences. This is usually described as “necessary inferences.” In Thomas Campbell’s Declaration and Address, the sixth proposition states:

That although inferences and deductions from Scripture premises, when fairly inferred, may be truly called the doctrine of God’s holy word, yet are they not formally binding upon the consciences of Christians farther than they perceive the connection, and evidently see that they are so; for their faith must not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power and veracity of God. Therefore, no such deductions can be made terms of communion, but do properly belong to the after and progressive edification of the Church. Hence, it is evident that no such deductions or inferential truths ought to have any place in the Church’s confession.

On the one hand, Campbell says that properly-made inferences can be called “the doctrine of God’s holy word,” he insists that they must not be made a test of fellowship. Why? Because they are what he calls “wisdom of men.”

Even the most ardent supporters of CENI as a hermeneutic squirm a bit as they describe the proper use of inferences. Which ones are necessary? How far are we willing to go with those inferences?

Many advocate the use of “common sense” in the making of inferences (as well as other aspects of CENI). To the modernist mind, this works. Logic. Common sense. That’s how you arrive at answers.

It’s strange to me that many of the same people are uncomfortable with any inclusion of the Holy Spirit in the process. We can pray for understanding, but that means that God gives us the common sense we need, they would argue.

To my eye, this is where the CENI hermeneutic’s mask of objectivity gets ripped away. More than necessary inferences, we tend to make desired inferences. If the inference supports the point we want to make, then it’s “necessary.” If not, it’s “going too far.”

Am I being too harsh? Should we give inferences an equal place at the table? Under what guidelines? How do we know what’s a “necessary inference” and what’s a “desired inference”?

Photo by Amy Aldworth