Dr. David Scaer was a dominant personality on the Fort Wayne seminary campus for many decades. He was known for his caustic sarcasm and punchy slogans that demonstrated his outsized personality. Though he wrote many interesting works and articles on systematic theology and biblical commentary, his clear thought on Scripture’s nature and the basis of his own hermeneutic was not well defined after Seminex—that watershed moment in the LCMS. He referenced historical critical views in class and joked about their results, making light of the historic doctrine of inspiration (I had him as a teacher in the early 2000s). Some interpreted his remarks as mere jest or sarcasm, while others found them troubling.
That is why his very early writing, The Apostolic Scriptures (CPH, 1971), is so revealing. He tries to make his case for the nature of Scripture in forthright and positive terms in this little booklet, before the lines had been hardened by the actions of the liberals at the St. Louis seminary. This particular work, which was not withdrawn, in fact, was still being reprinted by Concordia Theological Seminary Press in Fort Wayne over three decades after its original printing. The St. Louis seminary walkout was in 1974, so this little book was written in the midst of a tumultuous time theologically—the nature of Scripture and how to treat it was a raging question then (as it should be now).
A short review of four books published in 1971, all in the CPH’s “Contemporary Theology Series,” compares Scaer’s work to J.A.O Preus’ (as sitting president of the LCMS) on the classical Lutheran dogma of inspiration: “Scaer is in apparent disagreement with Preus on several points” by “develop[ing] his ‘apostolic scripture’ concept which he places against inspiration in order to bring in a broader conception of the Word of God” (Sakae Kubo, Andrews University Seminary Studies 12.2, 1974). This article will consider the words Scaer authored on the topic using his own words.
David Scaer does not completely deny the traditional doctrine of inspiration outright in The Apostolic Scriptures, but it has no real place in his reasoning and logic. “The work of the Spirit in giving us the Scriptures is not, strictly speaking, a direct or immediate work. It is a work exercised through the apostolic office” (65). He is conservative (by mainstream church standards) and shows some deference to the word ‘inspiration,’ not wishing to do away with it entirely, but it plays no part in his theological rationale. The “apostolic scriptures” is a concept he comes up with to carry the theological weight historically accorded to the Holy Spirit’s direct inspiring, or breathing out, of the words. This allows Scaer the freedom to dabble in aspects of literary and historical criticism. The reviewer previously mentioned admitted surprise: “He is even able to speak a favorable word for Redaktionsgeschichte and seems to indicate some problems regarding authorship of books.” Scaer uses the German word for “redaction criticism” and cautions about going too far with the results of this historical-critical method attributed to Rudolf Bultmann’s disciples in the 1960s, while leaving the door partially open to modern critical viewpoints.
“The concept of inspiration as it has been generally understood in the church is not contrary to an apostolic understanding of the Scriptures, but it has definitely prevented a fuller understanding of the Scriptures” (67). Scaer mentions “inspiration” 76 times in this document but never in a positive way, always playing its critics’ arguments against it, which are not well founded. For example, in his introduction, Scaer writes:
The technical term for this activity has been “inspiration.” Many problems have since arisen concerning this word. Some say that the Bible is inspired, but by “inspired” they mean something entirely different from what has been traditional in Christianity. In fact all marks of direct divine influence are removed. Some who have tended to a more traditional understanding of inspiration lapse into a type of mechanical inspiration. They do this in spite of their own insistent disclaimers to such a belief. It is a caricature of verbal inspiration to say that the Holy Spirit actually dictated the words to the writer. A painting that comes to mind is one of Saint Matthew taking dictation from an angel talking into his ear. There is then also the question of determining the object of the inspiration. Were only the authors inspired when they wrote, or were their writings inspired? Some claim that the men were inspired but not their writings. Others take the reverse position: the writings were inspired but not the men (7).
These charges and underhanded attacks are able to be addressed theologically, but that is not Scaer’s aim. He tries to define Scripture by his novel concept of apostolic authority, which redefines what Scripture as the Word of God actually is, so he must first bring up inspiration to move past it. That is a boon to Scaer’s exegetical fancies as he tries to navigate academically around the minefield (to him) of inspiration and its problems. Scaer lists lots of rational “problems” with the traditional view, but then he presents a solution without referencing the Holy Spirit’s activity in Scripture’s actual words, despite his work being later ignored by the LCMS and having significant problems of its own.
Scaer does not wish to side with the liberals in the LCMS at the time he writes, yet he wants to have nothing to do with the classical formulation of inspiration, which allows God’s authority in the words He ultimately authored in the Bible: “This is in no way to deny inspiration or to question the Scriptures as uniquely-given divine writings through which God guides His church by the Holy Spirit till Jesus come again” (8). By calling it a “concept” and highlighting its critics’ (petty and wrong-headed) arguments, he is able to make room for his pet theory: “The two passages mentioned, especially 2 Timothy 3:15-16, are still valid to demonstrate what has been called the inspiration of the Bible” (12). “The concept of Biblical inspiration is confusing to some because ‘inspiration’ has a variety of meanings not only in the church but also in common parlance” (12-13). Instead of carefully delineating the scriptural doctrine and defining the words theologically, Scaer revels in the linguistic ambiguity, creating room for a new theory of scriptural authority—which he promotes as rationally better than inspiration.
Scaer runs through some uses and misuses of the term ‘inspiration.’ “Much of what the Bible says about the Spirit’s activity is not applicable to what we call the inspiration of the Bible, except maybe in an indirect way” (15). He finds problem after problem: “Lutheran theology has called that section of its dogmatics which deals with the origin of Bible ‘inspiration,’ but since this term has other legitimate meanings, both in religious and secular vocabularies, there are inevitably some difficulties connected with it” (16). Another bold statement is made concerning the word ‘inspiration’: “Luther and the Confessions also do not use the term. They do, however, adhere firmly to the Scripture as the work and the words of the Holy Spirit” (16). That is a curious and unsubstantiated statement, one that seems to bolster his case, but in reality it is lazy, wishful thinking. A more careful later scholar, who cites Luther’s writings, wrote:
The theological concept “inspiration” (and its derivatives) occurs 96 times in the writings of Luther. Most frequently the concept appears in the two first Psalm lectures (Dictata super Psalterium, 1513— 1516, and Operationes in Psalmos, 1519— 21, twelve times) and in the Great Genesis Commentary (1535-1545, twenty times). Also Praelectiones in prophetas minores (1524-1526, six times) and the two sets of Lectures on Isaiah (1527-1530, seven times) contain several occurrences of the concept. The rest of the appearances are evenly spread throughout Luther’s writings. (Miikka Ruokanen, Doctrina divinitus inspirata: Martin Luther’s Position in the Ecumenical Problem of Biblical Inspiration. Helsinki: Luther-Agricola Society, 1985, 49.)
As evident from this detailed quote, Scaer displays poor scholarship, who does cite Luther in other works but is objectively in error in saying Luther does not hold to the inspiration of Scripture. But inspiration is only brought up to dismiss it and move on to his pet theory. “For the Christian the importance of an apostle lies in his relationship to Jesus Christ, as such relationship is recorded in the various books of the New Testament” (19). Scripture’s narrative and facts are used but not in a dogmatic or doctrinal way, but from below and more rationally. In one of his strongest written statements, Scaer shows he despises the classic Lutheran teaching: “The Scriptures are not an isolated product of the Holy Spirit; their significance for the church, then and now, rests in their connection with the apostles and their churches” (47). The caricature presented is that the authors of Scripture were not involved at all in inspiration—despite the evidence we can readily observe; yet the problem is actually with the Spirit’s miraculous intervention and authorship.
What Kind of Authority?
Scaer posits a delegated authority for the apostles: “Because they are writings associated with the apostles, they are as authoritative today as they were in the early church. They are the writings of men appointed by Jesus to be religious authorities over God’s people, just as Jesus Himself had been given teaching authority by the Father” (24). The analogy given does not work, though, since Jesus is true God, while the disciples were conceived and born in sin. They do not have authority by their very nature, nor were they joined to the Godhead apart from faith. Scaer is trying to ground authority not in the words of the apostles but in their office connected to the historical Jesus. They do have an office, but that office cannot bear the weight of a church that confesses Scripture alone as its sole authority. He even tries to subsume inspiration under the apostolic office:
The church has always taught that the Holy Spirit inspired the writing of the Scriptures after Jesus’ departure. This is indeed true. What is also significant is that even before His death Jesus prepared these men for their work and promised them the full measure of the Holy Spirit. Their writing of the Scriptures by inspiration is thus to be seen in the context of their apostolic office. The inspiration of the Scriptures is closely associated with the office that Jesus committed to the apostles and that the Holy Spirit enabled them to carry out (26).
But man’s authority, even if delegated by Christ, is not Christ’s own, personal authority. Inspiration, as we confess in the Nicene Creed, is the Holy Spirit’s own speaking “through the prophets” and apostles. Man’s word is not a valid substitute for God’s Word. “After His [Jesus’] departure they became the ultimate available authorities in the church, and their former hesitancy to act was replaced by a confidence which the Holy Spirit had given them in their apostolic offices” (27). The Scriptures are painted to be merely human records of their delegated (human) authority, not the true Word of God, which Luther was willing to base his earthly life and soul upon. The actual power in Christ’s church is Christ’s actual Word—the same Christ who is one with the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit who conceived Christ also gave birth to the words He recorded for us. The human author is not a “problem” if the divine author is confessed (for example, the anonymity of the book of Hebrews). God is the ultimate and most significant Author, according to the scriptural doctrine of inspiration. One less miracle is demanded of us in disregarding inspiration, but the divine authority we have access to is dissolved.
There is no Word of God Present and Accessible
A delegated authority does not mean the speech or writing of one delegated to is the actual words of one in true authority. Authority is never perfectly exercised by sinners. “The words in his [Paul’s] letters are to be accepted by the congregations as the Word of God, because God has chosen him as an apostle” (27). This theory of apostolic authority, in effect, distances the Word of God from man, making it inaccessible. We only have the words of those who have been delegated Christ’s authority, that is, man’s words.
This theory is an attempt to ground the authority of the Bible (and therefore the church today) in the incarnation of Jesus. But in this assumption we do not have any actual authority to lay our hands on presently. But Scripture is truly God’s mouth (Luther) and the living voice of Christ when inspiration is not dismissed but confessed—God’s words have been breathed out through sinful men, yet they are fully God’s Word that we handle and read in the absolute sense.
The question which forces itself upon every reader who takes the New Testament seriously is not only whether a given writing is inspired but whether it adequately reflects the apostolic message. This is reasoning in a circle, to be sure. But an apostle never possesses his office in a vacuum. He possesses the office to preach the Gospel. This Gospel nourishes the faith and life of Christian congregations (29).
What is of the Holy Spirit cannot be in error or separated from Christ Himself, since they are one God with the Father. The Gospel in this scheme, though, is detached from its source: the Scriptures. We cannot judge what is true Gospel apart from the words and doctrines revealed in Holy Writ. By assuming a Gospel, apart and before the Bible, we end up rationalizing the Gospel content and making it in our own image—a mere idea without a formal criterion and substance.
Scripture witnesses to itself, since it is the Spirit’s work and current instrument for salvation. Scripture cannot be logically proven or deduced. But Scaer posits,
All of the apostles possess this office equally. None is before or after another. They all bear witness and testimony to Jesus, but each in his own style. From this it follows that their testimonies cannot contradict each other, as their office is one. Regardless of this circular reasoning to determine the apostle’s office, the argument has merit. New Testament Scriptures must in every instance prove themselves to be apostolic. Where there is doubt about apostolic association, there the question of Gospel content may be asked as a criterion. The pseudo-gospels of Peter and Thomas possess firm apostolic self-confidence, but their content is hardly in harmony with the extant apostolic message in the Scriptures which has always been available to the church (29).
If the content comes from Scripture, how can that derived content then be used to determine Scripture? In another writing, Scaer assumes that a Christian teaching must be utterly unique and therefore rationally convincing: Robert “Preus engaged in the circular reasoning of the autopistia [the self-convincing authority of Scripture] and testimonium Spiritus Sancti internum [the internal testimony of the Holy Spirit] in demonstrating the Bible’s authority”; “the autopistia argument for biblical authority is not without problems. It is not an exclusively Christian argument. Other religions use it.” (Scaer, “Theology of Robert Preus,” CTQ 74, 2010, 82, 85, 89). By dismissing inspiration, based on extra-textual factors, Scaer tries to avoid any conflict with modern, academic rationalism but invites a legion of problems in its place.
This is not to say Scaer does not use Scripture or take it seriously. But the focus is merely on the human aspect, such as grammar and stylistic considerations, and not sedes doctrinae (seats of doctrine in specified verses) or its doctrinal content. As the saying goes, freedom comes at a cost. However, the cost of granting this exegetical license is immense: the Bible is not actually and literally the Word of God in Scaer’s scheme. Only indirectly may it be called so, because of delegated apostolic authority: “These letters had force and validity in the early churches because of their apostolic authorship. This is not to deny but to affirm these letters as the Word of God. They are the Word of God because the Spirit’s supervision of the entire apostolic task applied in a special way to their writings” (33). The words, though, are not God’s own, actual words, but only by metonymy or relational association, may we call them such. This is the major problem with apostolic authority—which is fine as far as it goes. But it cannot make the words of sinful men divine. But that is the modern viewpoint: the Bible is called the Word of God by its connection to God’s works and chosen men, but the words are not confessed to be truly and really God’s. It leaves us quite lacking, if apostolic authority “is the only basis for the church and for its theology” (34).
In a very weak confession of inspiration, Scaer concludes a chapter with these words: “The critical question which the earliest Christian congregations asked of these writings was one of apostolicity. What was apostolic was a product of the Holy Spirit. The reverse was not necessarily true” (37). The delegated authority is said to be more real and forceful than the direct authority, speech, and “product” of God the Holy Spirit. Is a second-hand human reflection better than the divine original?
Delegated Authority is Diluted
The reasoning of many moderns in denying inspiration and calling it “mechanical” (as if all mechanisms are bad) is that the Spirit’s activity in speaking is thought to deny the personality and agency of the human being inspired (making it robotic). Inspiration to moderns is viewed as degrading, reducing man to a mere instrument rather than a god-like being with rational autonomy. But David in Ps. 51 does not consider it debasing to be moved by the Spirit: “My tongue is the pen of a ready writer,” but fitting and proper to joyfully participate in the Spirit’s monergistic work of eternal salvation. Scaer leans into modern notions of freedom as being independence from God and His Spirit.
Rather it means that these men are God’s representatives, somewhat in the sense of the shaliach, the one who is sent. The idea in shaliach puts the stress on the man’s authority and even freedom in carrying out his assigned task. The designation “servant” puts the stress on the man’s relation to God. In the last analysis God’s servants are responsible to Him; they will be held accountable for all their words and actions. They are under limitation. As God’s servants the prophets and apostles cannot transgress the boundaries established by God Himself (42-43).
But servants and those with delegated authority are free to disobey and transgress limits. Judas had the apostolic office and delegated authority for a time, yet did not exercise his office in accord with his calling. All the apostles and prophets were still sinners, born children of Adam. Jonah does not want to preach the Gospel, and Peter has to be corrected publicly for his manifest action of denying the universality of the Gospel to Gentiles. No matter how conservatively it is viewed, man’s authority is fallible and never perfect. If the apostles are “accountable,” then that happens after the fact. A delegated office is not the same as having Christ’s holy Word. A potentially properly used authority is not a completely authoritative and unquestionable authority.
This fact is shown in the rather absurd proposition of Scaer that “In their own way the prophets, Jesus, and the 12 disciples are ‘apostles.’ As such they have in common that they act with the full authority of God, who sent them” (44). But men are not God, even with a divinely given office. They cannot create new worlds or remake this sinful one. They have specific authority—which still remains the Lord’s—who is not inactive and distant from our world today. The apostles speak Christ’s Word, not their own. When one moves away from the Spirit’s involvement in Scripture, one must also move away from Christ and His power, since His authority is present for us today in words inscripturated for us to actually use. Derived authority distances Christ as a result. This focus on divinely sanctioned acts and words is not enough to salvage a faulty replacement for inspiration. “The salvation history took place in time only once, but it would have a continued effect wherever the apostolic Word would go. It would in a sense be repeated in the hearing of all those who heard the Word for the first time” (45). A reverberating historical effect is no replacement for the living and spiritual Word of God. Jesus does not focus on the human office or author but joins God the Spirit intrinsically to His words, which we are to handle in submission and faith: “The words that I speak to you are spirit, and they are life” (Jn. 6:63).
Authority without a Foundation
Scaer is very conservative in his overall aim, it appears, in this early writing.
The apostolic authority is not open to any type of dissection when used in the name of Jesus. The apostles are authorities only in their relationship to the church. All their words are totally authoritative in the church. Their exclusion from other spheres should not be interpreted to mean that the apostolic message and task can be divided into spiritual and secular spheres, as though they are reliable in the first but not in the second. In Christianity the sharp distinction between spiritual and secular in the above sense is not possible. If the incarnation means anything, it means that salvation took place in our history (49).
Good intentions do not mean his theological program succeeds. In fact, it undermines all theology, ultimately, since theology without a divine basis is mere human froth—with or without delegated authority. Luther teaches that “Our reason cannot know the divine nature but still wants to judge concerning that about which it knows nothing” (“Die drei symbola order bekenntnis glaubens,” 1538, quoted in: J. M. Reu, Luther and the Scriptures, 36.) Theology without a truly divine message is not only impossible but also inherently blasphemous. In the words of Bo Giertz: “Only he who submits himself to the Word can properly understand the Word” (The Springfielder, March 1970, 10).
In a key section, quoted below in its entirety, Scaer makes logical objections to Scripture being fully and absolutely God’s Word:
The Word As God Speaking
The problem which must be solved here is whether the direct speaking of God with individuals in a type of conversation can be separated from the apostolic word. Prophets in the Old Testament are frequently pictured as holding conversations with God (Exodus 3; Isaiah 6). In many other places there is the reference that “the Word of the Lord came” to a certain prophet. This is a clue that, as there must be a distinction between the prophetic word and the direct Word of God to the prophet, so there must be a similar distinction between the direct Word of God and the apostolic word.
If the prophetic or apostolic word is always the Word of God in the same sense as the direct speaking of God in His Word, then in every conversation between God and a prophet God would be speaking with Himself. This is not only a somewhat ludicrous thought but it also overlooks that the Scriptures in every case teach clearly the individuality of the prophet or apostle in his dealings with God. Frequently the passages speaking about the Word of God coming to a prophet are used to demonstrate that the Scriptures are the Word of God. Certainly the Scriptures are the Word of God, but the use of such passages has sometimes served to cloud the issue and to obscure a distinction which the Scriptures themselves make (50-51).
The true Word of God is made to be ineffable, since direct speech is a higher Word of God than directly inspired speech, or its recording in Scripture, according to one sinner’s claims. This subtlety makes Scripture no more holy or important than anything else the apostle or prophet does. But cannot God author what He wants? This reasoning from below—our biased perspective—and not the doctrine of Scriptures, is purely speculative and proves nothing. To posit levels in the Word of God is nothing but rationalism. What is reasonable to us is often of the devil’s whore, the sinful flesh, as Luther taught.
The conclusion of Scaer shows the Bible to be a conglomerate with varying strains of authority:
A plea is made here for the distinction between the direct Word of God to prophets or apostles and the authoritative proclamation of this Word to God’s people by these men. Many of the direct commands of God to His spokesmen are repeated authoritatively in the apostolic Scriptures. It might be safe to hazard the opinion that God spoke more to these men than what is recorded. In repeating these words from God, the writers expressed them in the idiom most common to them. The Scriptures therefore repeat direct words of God along with the authoritative explanation of these words. The application of these words is the task of an apostle (51).
In reality there are not different types or species of the Word of God—God is one. What is not the direct Word of God should not be falsely called “God’s Word,” even out of traditional deference. Our opinion of the Word cannot establish the divine Word nor distinguish between hypothetical levels of authority within it (critically). In practice, Scaer assumes that there is no difference in the apostles’ recorded words in Scripture and other things they did within their apostolic sphere (which we don’t have access to). God Himself, in this view, is not the true author of Scripture but a more distant cause and approximate source of its indirect authority.
Scaer mentions an orthodox Lutheran father, Martin Chemnitz, but does not actually cite him or let him speak for himself:
One of the criteria for an apostle is not that he wrote or, for that matter, that he could write. Defining New Testament apostles as writers is not only reasoning in a hopeless circle but also does not tell us anything. To explain two synonyms by each other tells us nothing. Chemnitz suggests that a special authority, outside of apostolic authority, was given to men like Mark and Luke. The New Testament knows only of apostolic authority; thus this theory is not satisfactory.
Who determines what is “satisfactory”? In the modern era, each scholar and reader demonstrates his own theological program creatively. “Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but the Lord weighs the heart” (Ps. 21:2). Chemnitz’ writing has stood the test of time, while Scaer’s impact has been limited, despite being gifted many talents, because he bent to the times, relying on his own feeling of what is reasonable.
Upside to Apostolic Authority
“The purpose of the gospels was to tell the church who Jesus is and what He did. But as the apostles and their assistants retold their experiences with Him, their own authority and reactions shine through clearly” (20). By allowing human differences in the authors, with only theoretical authority, the door is cracked open to doctrinal variation in biblical books:
In John’s Gospel the Spirit assists, but in the three synoptic gospels the Spirit (or Jesus) actually gives the words to the apostles. This intensification of the Spirit’s assistance in the synoptic gospels is especially noteworthy, since it is the shibboleth of contemporary New Testament scholarship to say that John’s is the most theologically developed of all the gospels. The earlier-written synoptic gospels, constituting what is said to be the older tradition, really have a “stricter” doctrine of verbal inspiration than does John. As mentioned above, this concept has been faithfully reproduced in the classical theology of Lutheran orthodoxy (21).
Rather than all of Scripture being God’s unitary Book, the human authors are contrasted, making doctrine a (human) vantage point on a continuum, rather than a fixed revelation from God. This is not to say Scaer runs wild or makes extreme claims, but it does give room for the scholar to find new things, apart from what is actual spoken and inspired by the Spirit.
Elsewhere Scaer writes: “Scriptures for the exegete are fenceless prairies where he may roam, and so he is the envy of those whose goals are predetermined by tradition and official boundaries” (“Reformed Exegesis and Lutheran Sacraments: Worlds in Conflict,” CTQ 64:1, 2000, 5). Theological creativity is stifled by God’s direct Word in his view, but since sinners cannot think holy or good thoughts on their own, this is not the brag that Scaer thinks it is. Scripture was given for doctrine, not only for that, of course, but inventiveness is not the result of faithful interpretation of Scripture. The difference between reading between the lines of God’s Word and proclaiming it with “Thus saith the Lord” is massive. The analysis of the human aspects of biblical differences permits speculative theologizing but undermines the certainty of Scripture. It ultimately must erode the entire foundation of Christianity, since doctrine is based upon God’s direct authority, as the various biblical books are considered a unitary product of the Spirit, allowing the present hearer to transcend all human chasms of personality, time, and culture.
When the clear words of the Bible and their meaning are made human products of personal affects of their sinful personalities, based on only human authority, the door is left open to reading into Scripture. Speculations upon what is not stated are no longer simply open questions but the place of real theology in the mind of critics.
The literary style of the Pauline letters may have been influenced by those assisting Paul at the time. Timothy appeared so frequently with Paul that it might be safe to hazard the theory that more of his own stylistic and terminological imprint can be found in the epistles than was previously recognized, for surely Paul conferred with his assistants before writing his epistles. What they discussed together may well have found its way into the epistles Paul wrote. Some have sought to explain the drastically different styles between First and Second Peter by saying that the influence of Silvanus is noticeable in the first letter, while Peter did the second one by himself. These are all thoughts that should rightfully be developed by the science of New Testament Introduction (56).
But human authorship is secondary; it is clear that the Spirit used men to write, even if don’t know their names or historical context. “Hebrews has presented more problems concerning authorship than any other New Testament writing. …With Hebrews there is not even a name to reject” (57). But the author of Hebrews is consistent in his citation of the Old Testament. The Spirit does not even mention the human author of Hebrews, yet it provides the strongest supports for inspiration when its words are taken seriously. Psalm 95 is introduced in Hebrews, “Therefore, as the Holy Spirit says (3:7).” The divine authorship is all that truly matters. The eternal and omniscient Spirit overcomes all silly modern concerns for human agency: “By this the Holy Spirit indicates that the way into the holy places is not yet opened as long as the first section is still standing (9:8);” The Spirit actually speaks, according to the biblical witness, “And the Holy Spirit also bears witness to us; for after saying,” ascribing Jeremiah’s words entirely to the Spirit (10:15). The Bible itself does not make the distinctions that modern rationalists demand. Reasonableness to sinful men does not make for divine authority but rather makes it seem impossible. Scholars and their opinions lower the Scriptures to messy, complicated human products, overshadowing the simple, inspired words we actually possess. But Christ works through what is despised and ridiculed. Since the Enlightenment, scholars have felt great pressure to accept the academic narrative that gives human authority weight in theological matters, rather than rely upon God’s revealed Word.
Criticism is Unbelief
Chapter 8, titled “The Apostolic Scriptures and Literary Criticism,” begins,
Practically all New Testament studies today are concerned with the literary criticism of New Testament documents, particularly the gospels. Does the view that the New Testament carries and perpetuates apostolic authority to the church today allow for contemporary literary criticism? This question can be answered both positively and negatively.
This is the true starting point for Scaer; he is a product of his times. I wish he had been more of a contrarian, despite his shtick in public. To be relevant to other scholars in the matter of interpreting Scripture, you cannot simply hold to inspiration and refer to God’s absolute written authority. A lot of the harm in the Lutheran church has come under the guise of scholarly “exegesis” and the pretension of being ‘scientific’ and academic. So the emphasis on the human side of Scripture reigns in modern theology. “Regardless of all claims to the contrary and the elaborate safeguards notwithstanding, the impression given was that of a mechanical inspiration” (61).
Literary criticism of course would have little or no place in such a closely-defined process. If the Scriptures were direct words from God in an absolute sense, then any attempt to arrive at meaning through the study of historical circumstances is insignificant and relatively unimportant (61-62).
Applying his concept of apostolic authority, the result is (surprise!) more engagement in and use of modern critical methods:
When the Scriptures are regarded as authoritative not only because of their inspiration, as rightly understood, but also because of their apostolicity, a greater amount of freedom is allowed for responsible literary criticism. The inspired Scriptures of the New Testament are to be considered by-products of the apostolic age. Through the Scriptures God continues to exercise authority today (62).
But not all authority is the same. This freedom of interpretation comes at the expenses of God’s full divine authority. By limiting the Scripture to human authority and words, the historical situation becomes more significant—“the apostolic age” becomes the actual birthplace of Scripture. A history we don’t have access to reliably, except in the Scripture, coincidentally.
While the St. Louis seminary moved on from the old liberalism of Seminex to more modern ideas like postmodernism and narrative criticism in the 1980s and 90s in its exegetical department, Fort Wayne retained the ‘stodgy’ redaction criticism, which followed form criticism in the 1960s and 1970s of Scaer’s formative years after it was discarded by the academy. This was in large part to Scaer’s dominant personality on the Fort Wayne campus. While perhaps it could be called deceitful, Scaer only uses the German word, avoiding the “critical” appellation in English:
“Redaktionsgeschichte”
One of the most popular forms of New Testament criticism today is Redaktionsgeschichte as it is applied to the gospels. Many of its claims are purely speculative. Like many other theories, they will not stand the test of time. However, there is about this method a feature that fits well with the idea of the Scriptures as apostolic authority. Redaktionsgeschichte puts the emphasis on the writer, somewhat in the sense that the concept of the apostolic Scriptures does. Willi Marxsen has developed this theory with Mark’s Gospel and Hans Conzelmann with Luke’s. While these men do not work the idea of apostolicity into their theories, they do place the emphasis on the writers. They do regard these gospels as productions of individual men who deliberately set forth their material in such a way as to teach a given theological position.
The idea of the apostolic Scriptures allows for such a position, so long as the theologies of the different gospels are not held to contradict each other. In other words, the writers wrote with different purposes in mind. They selected and arranged their materials to attain a certain end. Since the office of an apostle is one shared by several like-minded men, contradictions in the basic theology as taught by Marxsen and Conzelmann cannot be allowed. But differences can be allowed. In other words, it can be said that historical occurrences serve theological purposes.
The extreme position held by Marxsen and Conzelmann that history (Geschichte) was changed and even invented for the sake of theology is certainly a reversal of God’s entire plan in Jesus Christ. The office of an apostle rests on the premise that his authority flows from a historical (historischer) Jesus, who represented and revealed the Father to His disciples. The life of Jesus is the basis of apostolic preaching, as is quite evident from the requirement that the apostles must have been with Jesus during His entire ministry. It will not do to reverse the terms and say that preaching is the basis of the life of Jesus as recorded in the gospels. Such an approach eventually dissolves the entire Christian message into words and makes its connection with real events tenuous at best. Marxsen, Conzelmann, and, of course, Rudolf Bultmann would all acknowledge the possibility that the events in Jesus’ life, especially His resurrection, could have actually been invented to serve the early church’s theology and preaching (62-63).
So scriptural differences and contrasts are allowed, but contradictions are ruled out. The unity of God’s Word is destroyed, though. No longer can passages from all parts of the Bible be collated and compared, being united by a single divine author—the human author takes precedent in this historical situation. Scaer was correct; redaction criticism has not stood the test of time, so it is interesting that his aims seem so aligned with the results of a historical-critical school. The emphasis on the human writer as a redactor (editor) editing his sources with a precise theological program in mind destroys the unity and clarity of Scripture. Scaer demonstrates this approach in practice, in a revealing footnote almost three decades after setting forth his paradigm of apostolicity, which allows for hidden, unprovable literary development and seeming theological improvement of Jesus’ own words by the later apostolic ‘redactor’:
Some contemporary critical scholars, in distinguishing between the event and later theological interpretations of the event, attempt to identify the steps from the event, which for them is often unrecoverable, and the final form in the Gospels. Much of this is speculation and rests on the unproven assumption that Jesus and His immediate followers were not as theologically advanced as those who came later. Such methods are not without value in that the earliest church reflections on the Lord’s Supper are seen to resemble closely what later became the classical Reformed view of a symbolical meal. Texts in their final form, as we have them in the Bible, were encrusted with views now associated with Lutherans and Catholics. Because the Gospels preserve both earlier and later reflections on the Last Supper, Lutherans and Reformed justified their accommodation as biblical with each other on the Lord’s Supper in the Formula of Agreement. Though the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod rejected this kind of method, especially because it produced no certain knowledge about Jesus and divorced His teaching from that of the church, the biblical texts in their final form according to these scholars often supported a high Lutheran sacramentology. By assuming that the Gospels are written after the Epistles, some conservative Lutheran scholars perhaps unwittingly buy into this developmental concept of doctrine. It does support the general neo-Evangelical understanding that hesitates in recognizing sacramental texts. (“Reformed Exegesis and Lutheran Sacraments: Worlds in Conflict,” CTQ 64:1, January 2000, 18-19; emphasis added.)
Emphasizing the writer’s status as a mere human being with only delegated authority allows for various human investigations highlighting supposed theological contrasts. But God’s direct, inspired Word cuts off all digging behind the text by requiring direct submission and faith before the Lord of all. “Speaking of apostolic authorship, literary criticism, when responsibly conducted, allows for greater freedom of investigation in determining the actual writer of a document” (63). The question, often repeated at Fort Wayne during my time there, was “what was the author thinking when he wrote this?” This psychoanalyzing and speculation is uncertain but attractive to professional exegetes who want to say something new and get published and recognized by their academic peers but becomes blasphemy when it is done to God’s actual words. We have the words of Scripture God the Spirit gave; to try to get behind them to some non-written thought or history is not only fruitless—it is unbelief to ignore the clear words the Spirit has actually given to us to believe.
With odd Trinitarian logic, Scaer seems to push the apostolic label as more convincing than God’s immediate action.
First Jesus through the Spirit gives the office of the apostle to the church to direct and guide it, and then through this office the Spirit gives the church the Scriptures. Since the Spirit establishes the office of the apostles, the Scriptures written by them are inspired. All gifts in the church from Pentecost to the end of time are in a sense inspired by the Holy Spirit, but only the gift of apostolicity carries with it Christ’s own authority (65).
But Christ’s Word is the only true authority in the church. The Lutheran Confessions state:
Truly, it is amazing that the adversaries are in no way moved by so many passages of Scripture, which clearly ascribe justification to faith, and, indeed, deny it to works. Do they think that the same is repeated so often for no purpose? Do they think that these words fell inconsiderately from the Holy Ghost? (AP IV:107).
This is not merely a rhetorical move; it is the reliance on God’s own authority for their doctrinal position. Theology without a divine warrant and concrete Word is mere speculation to be dismissed, debated, and dissected. But divine proclamation has authority when it conveys and communicates God’s Word, following the words and teaching of God in the Holy Scriptures. This allows for a single divine theology rather than an indefinite theological spectrum punctuated by many erring human authors. “Pure doctrine” makes little sense if the apostles do not speak God’s singular holy Word but simply their interpretation and version of that prior, unobtainable Word.
Delegated Infallibility and Inerrancy are Meaningless
Although this document was authored before the split in the LCMS, it is surprising to hear a “conservative” Lutheran theologian paint inerrancy in such a negative light.
The apostles’ task of defending their office and Word against the charge of falsehood is gathered under the general heading of inerrancy. The word “inerrancy” might not be the best and the task an unfortunate one, but even the apostles had to defend themselves against the charge that they were lying (67).
It is still “unfortunate” to some today because that is where the modern conflict is fiercest. So-called scientific knowledge and the biblical worldview based on clear passages cannot peaceably coexist. But where Satan is attacking most viciously is not the point at which to give in! This apologetic approach is weak and ineffective. It is the actual doctrine of Christ that is being undermined. Retreating to unspoken and unwritten apostolic history and seeming editorial differences in the gospels is not a courageous confession of God’s Word—it is majoring in minutiae while denying the clear teaching of the Spirit.
Human authority is no guarantee of inerrancy, in fact, quite the opposite. Sinners cannot refrain from sin, on their own. So general apostolic authority, to say nothing of how the Old Testament prophets had authority before Christ’s incarnation, is not a replacement for God’s work in giving us the very Scriptures.
Scriptures are infallible not only because of their inspiration but also because they are a product of the apostolic office which is not allowed to be questioned in the church. This office speaks the authoritative Word of God. To speak against the infallibility of the Scriptures or even to question their inherent truthfulness is not only inane but blasphemous (67).
To be “inherent” speaks of what the Scriptures actually are, but in this contrived scheme of delegated authority, that charge to be faithful that may or may not have been fulfilled. Inerrancy cannot be a forgone conclusion based on the handing off of Christ’s authority to the weak and ineffectual sinners he called to be apostles. I hope Judas was not infallible in his apostolic theft and betrayal of the Lord—that would make God morally equivalent to Satan! So the result of Scaer’s program may be palatable in its aims to a conservative-minded theologian, but its reasoning undermines all theological conclusions, making them non-authoritative in the divine sense. Theology, then, is merely a collection of human attempts to represent what even Scripture does not fully convey.
The distancing of the Spirit can only have harmful consequences for the church and proclamation of God’s Word, since Scripture itself is not said to be the direct Word of God but merely a historical reaction and man-made record. “The Spirit’s activity was not direct or immediate as it provided the New Testament writings” (68). Scaer makes bold conclusions based on his personal authority. He misrepresents and contradicts Luther and the Confessions of the Lutheran Church. This only further illustrates that we cannot trust men absolutely, even the chosen apostles picked directly by Christ, whose mistakes and weaknesses litter the Gospels. Only Christ’s own authority in the Spirit’s authorship of Scripture will suffice as the foundation for a divine, binding theology that will sustain the church until He returns.
Conclusion
Scaer re-imagines the purpose of the Scriptures: “The purpose of the gospels was to tell the church who Jesus is and what He did. But as the apostles and their assistants retold their experiences with Him, their own authority and reactions shine through clearly” (20). But mere human authority is not divine, nor for all eternity. The actual Word of God is distanced from the present reader in this scheme, making the Gospels reflections upon God’s Word, not the unshakable truth we may rely upon doctrinally. “But the personality of each disciple, especially Peter’s, is woven as golden thread throughout the fabric of the gospels. The church has always recognized the clues that the apostles left behind in the gospels” (23). What is unsaid—to the creative exegete—takes on greater significance than what the Spirit actually recorded for us through the human authors. This approach undermines the true authority upon which our doctrine is derived.
Scaer readily admits there is possible conflict between apostolic truth and worldly knowledge, in a way that inspiration will not admit (his full paragraph is cited):
In secular matters, that is, in concerns not incorporated in or connected with the Gospel and having nothing to do with the church, the words of Peter, Paul, and their colleagues did not possess apostolic validity. The apostolic office functioned only in regard to the church. Human sciences and knowledge, as long as they are separate from religious and revealed truth, do not necessarily have to be judged by the apostolic Word. The apostles’ commission did not extend beyond their ecclesiastical functions (46).
This is precisely why the doctrine of inspiration is hated. I do not have the impression Scaer wanted to promote evolution or blur male/female roles, but it is hard to fit into the academy and rely on “God said in the Bible, so we must believe it.” It seems irrational because it does not bend to man’s sinful reason. It will mean persecution and some humiliation to simply confess God’s Word.
Great scholars are practically worshipped (for their genius and wordsmithing) even if they are actually not helpful to the church. This is the modern pinch-point everyone must face: humility before the Word or some other way than simple faith and dependence upon God’s Word. By positing two realms of knowledge and limiting Scripture’s sphere of authority, the battle of modernism is seemingly avoided. Even partial surrender to the satanic temptation to worship the demands of sinful reason is not Christian, nor will a theology or theory tied to critical capitulation endure. To be called a fundamentalist or biblicist is a heavy charge but a false one we must be willing to bear joyfully in obedience to Christ. Worldly reactions to the divine truth should not sway the Christian who rests solely on Christ’s written Word as the true voice and Word of Christ. The apostolic writings, like the prophetic ones, “never came by the will of man, but holy men of God spoke as they were moved by the Holy Spirit” (2 Pet. 1:21). Amen. —ed.
