Flaws in Protestant Thought: A Response to Steven Nemes pt. 1

Dr. Steven Nemes has pioneered a distinctively Protestant way of thinking about theological issues. He argues in his original blog post that “many Protestants find [the case for Catholicism] convincing. I think that is because Protestants tend to think in a fundamentally Roman Catholic way, even if they do not always believe the same things Catholics do.” This is especially evident in the way Protestants defend their interpretation of scripture from the backdrop of claritas scripturae, attributing, as it were, infallibility to their hermeneutical venture. Steven summarizes his new approach like so: “So, how to be and think like a Protestant? I think there are a few central ideas: the power of Gospel as the proclamation of salvation; Christian faith as personal fellowship with God; and the fallibility of human beings.”

I will issue a two-fold response.

First, I wish to defend here those Protestants who are discerning Catholicism in light of four identifiable flaws in Protestant thought, including Steven’s.

My second post will argue that the New Testament’s emphasis on absolute obedience to the Messiah undermines Steven’s ecclesiology and soteriology, especially given the identity of the Messiah as the New Moses. There are clear scriptural passages that teach that misinterpreting or believing the wrong things about Jesus and the Bible lead to destruction.

Flaws in Protestant Thought

There are five distinctive flaws I wish to highlight, although I will save the fifth for the next post. The first is the blinding conviction that we should not declare an assembly of Christians who believe in the Gospel of Jesus crucified and resurrected invalid or heretical. The second is the decontextualization of scripture necessary to sustain Protestantism. The third is the fallacy of great expectations where Protestants already presuppose an inappropriate burden of proof rather than fairly assessing the available evidence. The fourth flaw is inconsistency in the Protestant apologetic.

i. Conviction. In many of my interactions with Protestants, one of the most difficult beliefs to accept is what I shall call “exclusivism” wherein the Catholic Church claims to be the one true Church. Many Protestants are of the moral conviction that such a claim is downright offensive — although they do not mind exclusivism when applied against Islam, Judaism, Mormonism, etc.

This moral conviction is a bias that needs to be left at the door when assessing the evidence, because in order to hold that conviction one must also already accept other controversial ecclesiological doctrines on what constitutes the body of Christ. But, it is precisely those controversial ecclesiological doctrines that are the subject of investigation in the Protestant-Catholic debate. Thus, if this bias is not checked, then argumentation becomes an exercise not in the pursuit of truth no matter where the evidence leads but confirmation bias with a moral flare.

One way to avoid this issue is if the interlocutors can agree from the start on common ground, such as the authority of scripture, the infallibility of Jesus, the historical context of the New Testament documents, a shared historiography, and so forth. This is why in my published and other public works, I almost exclusively (if not totally) cite from Protestant New Testament scholarship and bind myself to only using Church Fathers within living memory of the apostles.

After all, as a young Baptist, I actively watched William Lane Craig, Craig Evans, Daniel B. Wallace, Michael R. Licona, Peter J. Williams, Richard Bauckham, and other eminent New Testament scholars in order to deepen my study and love of the Bible. It was precisely this love of scripture that helped me in my conversion to Catholicism, as I already had a decent grasp of how to approach the New Testament and check for bias, or what Dr. Licona calls “horizons” in his book The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach. In short, this Protestant moral conviction must itself be assessed against the evidence of the New Testament and not question-beggingly presupposed. It must be able to survive the scrutiny of objections.

ii. Decontextualization. The Biblical scholar John H. Walton once said, “The Bible was written for us but not to us.” This simple maxim is pivotal in my hermeneutical approach, especially when I was fixated on the Creationism debate as a Protestant. My friend Michael Jones (Inspiring Philosophy) debated Kent Hovind on whether or not the Bible supports young earth creationism, and I remember Hovind saying multiple times, “We don’t need gurus and experts to understand the Bible.” and several other comments disparaging the Catholic Church. Michael was engaging in a thorough word study and historical analysis of the creation narratives, whereas Hovind was insisting that God would write the Bible in a way that wouldn’t require us to do such a deep study.

Some Protestants complained to me in person after my first debate with Ty Nienke, “Do we all need to be as smart as you in order to understand the Bible?” In my third and final debate with Ty, I explained that individual Catholics don’t have to be “as smart as me” in order to arrive at the beliefs I was claiming were correct. This is because Catholics who hold firm to the traditions handed down from the apostles and through the magisterium end up holding the correct beliefs despite not always knowing the precise justifications for their position.

On the other hand, since Protestant epistemology is heavily individualistic, many insist that if God were to reveal Himself in scripture then it ought to be in a way that bypasses cultural or historical contingencies and reaches the person directly. Thus, the Bible is sufficiently clear about the physical resurrection of Jesus, the necessity of faith in justification, His crucifixion under Pontius Pilate, His self-understanding as the Messiah, the Apocalyptic Son of Man, and the Son of God. Isn’t this enough?

I submit, however, that many core elements of scriptural teaching and meaning are lost in such a process. Rather than recovering these lost components, some Protestants insist that they were not relevant in the first place. For instance, Ty insisted that “the seat of Moses” or “binding and loosing” were irrelevant terms, whereas I was arguing that a Palestinian Jewish audience would have known what Jesus meant and so we necessarily need to enter that cultural-historical context in order to understand the Lord’s teaching. Upon understanding those terms, especially binding and loosing, one finds where the idea to declare doctrine, issue anathemas, excommunicate, demand ordinal succession, etc. arose from.

The Apostolic Fathers and later Bishops did not invent these ideas, and so if one is to judge the claims of the fathers fairly then one must try and understand where their beliefs originated. I’ve summarized my research into the Semitic origins of New Testament ecclesial structures here.

Nonetheless, some Protestants after my debate with Ty insisted that it would be unwise for the New Testament writers to use such cryptic Semitic terminology, as they (the Protestants) had engaged in intercultural evangelism and would never use phrases distinct to their culture. Perhaps it would be imprudent if the New Testament were written for individuals and not for an enduring historical community. The Biblical data coincides well with the hypothesis that the Bible was written for us but not to us.

This is why it surprised me when Steven entertained the possibility that Jesus was not like other Palestinian Jews. In our discussion (not our PWA debate) on infallibility, I responded with an explanation of why Jesus says in John 4 that “Salvation is of the Jews” and the seemingly condescending phrase “You Samaritans do not know what you worship.” My more recent conversation with Daniel Suazo (The Jewish Catholic) on my channel also illuminated even further how Jewish Jesus was as He kept the Jewish feast days, followed Kosher, went to Synagogue, and demonstrated Jewish piety.

One of the chief reasons why we cannot decontextualize the Bible is because we often then give ourselves license to fill whatever we want in the vacuum. To account for culture and context is a responsible check on bias. Not to mention that the Jewish context of the scriptures could have also blunted Christian anti-Semitism, especially Christian interpretations of Jesus’ critique of the Pharisees or Paul’s view of “the works of the Law.”

iii. Expectations. It should be evident now that much of my critique of Protestant thought focuses on its prior commitments often brought to the text of scripture. My third critique will be the final kind of this species.

The fallacy of great expectations occurs when an agent rejects a belief that is contrary to their belief system for failing to meet an idealistic burden of proof as opposed to a sober assessment of the evidence itself. For example, some Muslims will ask where in the New Testament does Jesus say, “I am God. Worship me!” Although there are multiple scriptural evidences of the divinity of Jesus, even in the Gospel of Mark, there is typically dissatisfaction that Jesus did not speak their preferred words verbatim. But, that’s precisely the problem: unfair standards taint our assessment of the evidence. Jesus doesn’t have to say “I am God. Worship me!” in order for that doctrine to be His authentic teaching.

Nonetheless, it is understandable why some Muslims would insist on such a explicit declaration from Christ — the idea of the incarnation is so contrary to what they believe about God and man.

Similarly, it would be ideal if the New Testament explicitly gave us the doctrine of apostolic succession. But, the best evidence we have of such a teaching comes from the apostolic fathers, especially Clement of Rome in the first century in 1 Clement 44:1–3 and Irenaeus of Lyons in the second century in Against Heresies bk. 4 ch. 26. Both of these sources are within living memory of the apostles, meaning they either had access to the apostles themselves (Clement) or those who knew the apostles (Irenaeus). Craig S. Keener notes in his book Christobiography that most scholars would not even call this period “oral tradition” but oral history to recognize its characteristic uniqueness. Clement, recalling his memory, writes:

So too our apostles knew through our Lord Jesus Christ that strife would arise over the office of bishop. For this reason, since they understood perfectly in advance what would happen, they appointed those we have already mentioned; and afterwards they added a codicil, to the effect that if these should die, other approved men should succeed them in their ministry… Indeed, we commit no little sin if we remove from the bishop’s office those who offer the gifts in a blameless and holy way.

Irenaeus articulates more forcefully:

Therefore it is necessary to obey the elders who are in the Church; those who — as I have shown — possess the succession from the apostles. [They], together with the succession of the episcopate [i.e., the bishops], have received the certain gift of truth, according to the good pleasure of the Father. And [it is necessary] to hold in suspicion others who depart from the primitive succession, and assemble themselves together in any place whatsoever. [Consider them] either as heretics of perverse minds, or as schismatics puffed up and self-pleasing, or again as hypocrites, acting this way for the sake of money and pride. For all these have fallen from the truth.

I have argued in my own work that Irenaeus’ doctrine of apostolic succession is not simply a polemical device against the Gnostics but the continuation of a first century Jewish practice of the Sanhedrin: “Ordination was conferred by three, of whom one at least must have been himself ordained, and able to trace up his ordination through Joshua to Moses…”[1]

I have also found multiple parallels between the Apostles and Rabbis that strongly indicates that Jesus did not end the courts of Moses but rebuilt them for New Covenant halakha.

Given a commitment to Protestant ecclesiology, perhaps this evidence is not enough: sources within living memory of the apostles and practices from the first century! But, as I mentioned originally, it is precisely that ecclesiology that must be held against the evidence and not used as a hidden standard.

At this juncture, I know some Protestants will object that this doctrine is not found in scripture. I respond to this in my Heythrop journal paper “Roman and Catholic”:

Although not explicitly stated, scripture supports this codicil when Paul states in 2 Thess. 2:15, and elsewhere (3:6; 1 Cor. 11:1–2, etc.), ‘So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by our letter.’ Clement appears to be revealing an apostolic oral teaching that was left unmentioned in the canonical epistles. Regardless, scripture expects adherence to such traditions.

Moreover, John 21:25 tells us that not everything Jesus did or taught could be written down: “But there are also many other things that Jesus did; if every one of them were written down, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.”

Scripture opens the door for authentic sayings of Jesus and teachings outside of the Bible, and they therefore bear real authority. Apostolic succession as found in Clement and Irenaeus is one of the best candidates given their proximity to the apostles and the first century Jewishness of this doctrine, which coincides well with the apostles’ tendency to use the Jewish traditions of their day to organize the Church.

If you believe we can use the Dead Sea Scrolls, archeology, official Roman documents of the era, and other surrounding historical material to unearth Early Christianity, then I see no reason why Clement and Irenaeus are exceptions to understanding the historical Jesus.

iv. Inconsistency. My final critique of Protestant thought specifically concerns some of Steven’s arguments against infallibility.

For example, Steven and I both concede that humans beings are fallible but Jesus is infallible. We believe that Jesus is infallible despite our fallibility; despite not being in direct phenomenological acquaintance with the historical Jesus; despite not directly accessing the original New Testament documents. Though we have not seen Him, we believe. On what grounds does Steven place His faith in Jesus’ infallibility? A necessary part of the answer will be trust — that there is something about Jesus as presented by His followers that draws us to Him. And so we obey Jesus from this position of trust that He is the Messiah. After all, Steven agreed in the debate that anyone who denies who Jesus claims to be is in danger (John 8:24)— even given Steven’s fallibility! Notice here that in spite of his own fallibility, Steven is willing to grant infallibility to Jesus. The infinite what-ifs that one might ask seem to not have dissuaded him from this conclusion. Why should what-ifs or mere conjectural hypotheticals detract from the historical evidence available to us on Jesus and first century Palestinian Judaism?

The question then boils down to what kind of Church did Jesus build in the New Testament? Did Jesus issue a promise to the apostles and their successors that they would have the backing of heaven behind their teaching authority? If so, then what makes the Church infallible is not whether she experiences herself as infallible but whether or not the God-man made a promise to secure her from error, gave the objective means by which we can identify who she is and when she’s teaching, and we may thereby extend the same faith we place in the infallibility of Jesus to His Body, the Church.

The inconsistency on Steven’s part here is two-fold. Either Steven will say he trusts the New Testament by using the historical method and New Testament scholarship, meaning he will have to engage my research directly and not entertain that Jesus was not like other Palestinian Jews. For example, New Testament scholars pride the Gospels precisely for how Jewish they are, because they reveal details that only an authentic first century Jew would know, hence counteracting skepticism from the 1800s-1900s that the Gospels were second century legends. The kind of historical skepticism Steven forwards as a possibility is not only unnecessary, but I would argue undermines the historical credibility of Christianity.

On the other hand, Steven might appeal to his experience of reading scripture as scripture. But, as I mentioned in a previous post, what is the limiting principle here?

Consider first a general problem with Steven’s emphasis on experience. Experience also tells us that there are good, gentle, self-sacrificing people of various religious or even non-religious backgrounds. Their religious systems or philosophies might closely mimic central Christian truths, and so their lives manifest what we would consider fruits of the Spirit. Perhaps they even have remarkable inner-experiences of something spiritual — or even experiences in the external world — confirming their beliefs.

The follower of such a religion could ask, “How can Steven say that my religion is false, because it contradicts the central claims of Christianity, when my experience has told me otherwise?” Or, even another Christian could ask Steven, “How can you say their religion is false, when I have experienced what appears to be Christlikeness from them?” Steven might reply, “Although their religion is false, that does not mean that they will not be saved as noted by their/your experiences” or he could say, “Their religion is false, and therefore they will not be saved despite their/your experiences.”

I’m inclined to say that Steven sides with the former option rather than the latter. If that’s the case, then Steven would have to concede that it is possible for someone’s religious system or philosophy to be false and nonetheless have experiences that would at least compel us to consider the possibility for those visibly outside of Christianity to be saved. Let us now swap the word “Christianity” for “Catholicism”, and one arrives at a suitable analogy for the position I defended.

Second, Steven acknowledged in our PWA debate that God can choose who can speak for Him, whether it be a donkey or the High Priest Caiaphas in John 11:51–52. Not only does scripture say that Caiaphas had prophesized while serving as High Priest of that year, but Steven provided a counter-example to his own epistemology by insisting that Caiaphas did not know he was speaking prophecy. In other words, Caiaphas did not experience himself as infallible and yet God used him to speak the truth about Jesus. This is because infallibility is not found within man but given to men as a gift by God. Steven and John 11:51–52 appear to provide us with a direct counter-example to Steven’s objections to infallibility.

[1] Edersheim, Alfred. The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1993, pg. 856. cf. Jacobs, Louis. A Concise Companion to the Jewish Religion. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999, pg. 172.