@slimboyfat
Thank you for your
response, and I appreciate your effort to clarify your approach to citing
scholars and the role they play in shaping your arguments. While it's good that
you're being careful to defer to experts in areas outside your expertise, I
think there are still significant issues with the methodology you're
presenting. Let me explain more thoroughly why, despite your best intentions,
quoting certain scholars doesn't necessarily bolster the case you're trying to
make, especially concerning doctrinal matters like the Trinity.
One of the most important
points to grasp about theology is that it's not just a matter of collecting a
few proof texts or pulling out isolated academic quotes. Doctrinal theology
develops over time and involves a holistic synthesis of Scripture, Tradition,
and theological reflection, all rooted in the lived faith of the Church. So
when you refer to the scholarly consensus on the Trinity "not being in the
Bible," you're conflating a modern, often skeptical, historical-critical
approach with a theological one.
For example, when scholars
like Bart Ehrman claim that the Trinity isn't explicitly "taught" in
the Bible, they're typically referring to the fact that the Bible doesn't use
the term "Trinity" or systematically lay out the doctrine as
the Nicene Creed does. However, this doesn't mean that the concept of the
Trinity isn't there in seed form or that it doesn't emerge naturally from the
text. Rather, the early Church Fathers recognized the deep and complex unity of
God as revealed in Scripture, culminating in the development of the doctrine to
clarify the faith against heresies like Arianism and modalism. It wasn't
"invented" at Nicaea but formally articulated to defend what had been
consistently taught from the time of the apostles.
You argue that quoting
certain scholars who support JW positions shows that their views are at least
"legitimate." The issue here is that scholars can have a wide range
of views, some of which are influenced by modernist or revisionist tendencies
that aim to reinterpret early Christianity through the lens of later
skepticism. The fact that some scholars reject the Trinity or propose
that early Christians saw Jesus as a mere angel doesn't make those views
correct or legitimate within the framework of historic Christianity.
For instance, Bart Ehrman
is not a neutral observer; he's a self-declared agnostic who has made a
career out of challenging traditional Christian doctrines. The fact that some
scholars agree with his conclusions does not mean those conclusions are
supported by the entire scholarly community, much less by the broader Christian
tradition. Moreover, there are many competent scholars—both evangelical and
Catholic—who would argue strongly for the opposite positions, affirming the
Trinity and the deity of Christ as consistent with both the New Testament
and the beliefs of the earliest Christians.
Quoting a few liberal or
skeptical scholars isn't proof of legitimacy; it's simply a reflection of a
particular interpretative school. It also risks falling into the trap of
authority-based arguments rather than engaging with the broader theological and
historical context that shaped Christian doctrine.
A key distinction between
our approaches lies in how we view tradition and the authority of the Church.
As a Catholic, I see the development of doctrine as guided by the Holy Spirit,
with the Magisterium (teaching authority of the Church) safeguarding the truth
passed down from the apostles. The creeds, councils, and the Church Fathers
aren't just additional sources but are essential in interpreting and preserving
the faith once delivered to the saints (Jude 1:3). When I refer to the writings
of early Christians like Tertullian, Athanasius, or Augustine, I do so because
they represent the faith lived out and defended in the face of heresies that
threatened to distort it.
You seem to dismiss the
role of tradition and the development of doctrine as unnecessary or even
suspect. However, it's important to realize that the earliest Christians
weren't isolated Bible interpreters like modern scholars but part of a
community of faith with teachings passed down through generations. Doctrines
like the Trinity emerged from the need to clarify these teachings in the face
of challenges and to protect the integrity of the Christian faith.
While it's true that the
Bible doesn't present the doctrine of the Trinity in a systematic
theological treatise, the elements of the doctrine are clearly present
throughout the New Testament. The Great Commission in Matthew 28:19 speaks of
baptizing "in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Spirit." The language here isn't merely symbolic or titular; it places
all three persons on equal footing in a way that doesn't make sense if Jesus
and the Spirit were created beings or merely lesser entities. Similarly, the
high Christology of John's Gospel, especially John 1:1 and John 20:28 (where
Thomas calls Jesus "my Lord and my God"), provides clear
evidence that the early Christians saw Jesus as God, and not as Michael the
Archangel.
Moreover, the letters of
Paul frequently emphasize the relationship between Father, Son, and Spirit in a
way that points toward their unity in essence yet distinction in personhood. In
passages like 2 Corinthians 13:14 and Ephesians 4:4-6, we see clear Trinitarian
formulas being used in worship and benediction.
While I respect your
caution in deferring to scholars, I would encourage you to take a broader view
of the theological landscape. The fact that some modern scholars reject
traditional doctrines like the Trinity does not mean those doctrines lack a
solid foundation in Scripture or early Christian belief. Theologians throughout
history—both ancient and modern—have affirmed the Trinity based on a deep and
careful reading of both the Bible and the lived experience of the Church. To
dismiss this rich tradition in favor of a few skeptical voices is to
misunderstand the nature of Christian theology and its development over time.
So, while quoting scholars can
be helpful, it’s important to recognize that not all scholarly opinions are
equally valid when it comes to interpreting the central doctrines of the
Christian faith. The testimony of the Church, guided by the Holy Spirit and
shaped by centuries of faithful witness, remains the most reliable foundation
for understanding these profound mysteries.
@Earnest
Thank you for your detailed response. You’ve raised some valid points about
the development of nomina sacra, and I appreciate the opportunity to
engage further with the topic. However, I believe there are some critical
aspects that need to be clarified and addressed to fully assess the
implications of the practice of nomina sacra in early Christian
manuscripts.
You mentioned that my interpretation of nomina sacra is subjective,
and to a degree, I understand this concern. However, while it’s true that we do
not have a contemporaneous record explicitly stating the reasons for the
development of nomina sacra, the context in which they were used can
help inform our understanding. Early Christian scribal practices were often
theological in nature. Many scholars, including Larry Hurtado, have extensively
argued that the use of nomina sacra reflects the early Christian desire
to show reverence for the sacred names of God and Christ. This reverence was
not merely a later innovation but rooted in early Christian worship and
Christology.
Although we do not have an explicit explanation from the original scribes
themselves, the patterns observed in the manuscripts give us clues about the
theological motivations behind the use of nomina sacra. The fact that nomina
sacra were consistently applied to names like Theos (God), Kyrios
(Lord), and Iēsous (Jesus) shows that these titles were regarded as
uniquely sacred, set apart from mundane uses of the same terms.
It is not entirely accurate to assert with certainty that the original
writers of the gospels and apostolic epistles did not use nomina sacra
(sacred names). The claim that nomina sacra developed later by copyists
is just a hypothesis but not an established fact. We do not possess the
original autographs of the New Testament writings, only copies made by later
scribes. Therefore, we cannot definitively say whether the original writers
used nomina sacra or not. The earliest manuscripts we have, some dating
to the 2nd century, already contain nomina sacra.
The practice of using nomina sacra (abbreviations for divine names,
such as Jesus (ΙΗΣ), God (ΘΣ), Christ (ΧΣ), etc.) is attested in some of the
earliest Christian manuscripts. For instance, papyri such as P52 (circa AD
125-150) and P66 (late 2nd century) already exhibit this convention. This
suggests that the use of nomina sacra was an established practice very
early in Christian manuscript tradition—at least within the first or second
generation of copying.
While some scholars propose that the practice of using nomina sacra
was introduced by later copyists to show reverence or to economize on space in
manuscripts, this remains a theory. The practice may have originated even in
the very first copies of the New Testament texts, and perhaps even during the
lifetimes of the apostles or their immediate followers.
The use of abbreviations for sacred words was not unique to Christianity.
In Jewish scribal traditions, the Tetragrammaton (YHWH) was often written in
special ways, and this likely influenced early Christians to adopt similar
conventions when referring to sacred names.
In conclusion, it cannot be said with certainty that the original authors
of the New Testament did not use nomina sacra. The practice is seen very
early in the manuscript tradition, and without the original autographs, it
remains speculative to claim they were introduced only later by copyists. We
must remain cautious in making definitive statements about what the earliest
Christian authors did or did not do. Early scribal traditions were deeply
theological and reflected the beliefs of early Christian communities. The
development of nomina sacra was not merely a mechanical or aesthetic decision
but was informed by understanding of Christ’s deity and the need to venerate
sacred names.
Moreover, while it’s true that later manuscripts generalized the use
of nomina sacra, the earliest manuscripts—such as Papyrus 46 and Codex
Sinaiticus—were more selective and consistent in their application,
particularly regarding names associated with the divine. This selectivity
points to a deliberate choice to emphasize the divine nature of Jesus Christ,
in line with emerging Christological doctrines. The early Christian community
was wrestling with the identity of Jesus, and the consistent application of nomina
sacra to both the Father and the Son strongly suggests that they viewed
Jesus as sharing in the same divine nature.
You raised an interesting point about non-divine words like mother, Israel,
or Jerusalem also being treated as nomina sacra. This, however,
does not undermine the argument for the theological significance of the
practice. The inclusion of these words as nomina sacra can be understood
in a different light. For example, "mother" (meter) was often
associated with Mary, the mother of Jesus, in Christian tradition. Therefore,
when referring to Mary, it is possible that scribes treated the word with
reverence due to her unique role in the Incarnation. Similarly,
"Jerusalem" and "Israel" carried deep theological
significance in the biblical narrative as the city of God and the chosen people
of God, respectively.
In other words, not every single use of nomina sacra necessarily
implied deity, but it did reflect a sense of sacredness or importance within
the Christian theological framework. However, this does not detract from the
fact that when applied to terms like Theos (God) or Kyrios (Lord)
in reference to Jesus, the scribes were clearly making a theological statement
about His divine status.
You correctly pointed out that in some manuscripts like P66 and P75,
contractions of words like Kyrios (Lord) and Pater (Father) were
applied even to mundane references, such as "the father of lies"
(referring to the devil). This observation is valid, but it reflects a later
stage of scribal practice, where the use of nomina sacra became more
standardized and less selective.
However, in the earliest Christian manuscripts, there is a clear
distinction between the use of nomina sacra for divine or sacred names
and the full spelling of words when used in a mundane context. The fact that
early scribes were more discerning in their application of nomina sacra
indicates that the practice originally served a theological function,
emphasizing the deity of Christ and the Father. Later generalization of the
practice does not negate its original theological significance.
Just to clarify, my original point regarding John 1:1 was that those earliest manuscripts that did distinguish between the positive and affirmative use of terms "God" and "Lord" for the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and their use among, for example, pagan deities, they all treated as nomina sacra those places where the expressions "Lord" and "God" are applied to the Son. Since the distinction between lowercase and uppercase letters did not exist at that time, what else could we take as the closest practice to this, other than the nomina sacra? And if the earliest manuscripts that carefully made the distinction referred to the Son as "God" as a nomen sacrum, why wouldn't we capitalize it?
When the Son is called "God" (Theos), it is marked with the same reverence and sacredness as when it is applied to the Father. This practice underscores that the early Christians did not see a clear separation in terms of reverence when referring to the deity of the Father or the Son. Hence, early Christians using this scribal practice recognized the Son as fully divine, worthy of the title "God" (Theos). The shift to lowercase and uppercase letters in modern languages, especially English, is an attempt to mirror the reverence that was originally conveyed by nomina sacra. When we capitalize "God" for the Son in translations like John 1:1 ("and the Word was God"), we are continuing the tradition that reflects the sacredness applied in those early manuscripts. This capitalization signals the reader that the term is being used in a divine, absolute sense, rather than in a generic or lesser sense. The choice to capitalize "God" when referring to the Son reflects not only fidelity to early Christian scribal practices but also the theological conviction rooted in the texts. The identification of Jesus as Theos in John 1:1 and elsewhere is understood by Trinitarian Christians as a clear affirmation of His fully divine nature. Thus, the capitalization reinforces that belief in modern translations.
You mentioned that later generations of Christians who accepted the
Trinitarian doctrine may have understood the use of nomina sacra as
signifying shared deity, but you also suggest that the earliest scribes may
not have intended this. However, it is important to recognize that the
development of Christian doctrine did not happen in a vacuum. The early
Christian community was deeply engaged in theological reflection on the
identity of Jesus from the very beginning. The use of nomina sacra for
both the Father and the Son reflects the early Christians' understanding of
Jesus as divine, even much before the formal articulation of the Trinity at
Nicaea in 325 AD.
As early as the second century, Christian writers like Justin Martyr and
Ignatius of Antioch were already affirming the deity of Christ in their
writings. The use of nomina sacra is consistent with this early high
Christology, which recognized Jesus as more than just a created being. The
theological trajectory that led to the formal doctrine of the Trinity was
already present in the early Christian understanding of Jesus as Kyrios
(Lord) and Theos (God).
In conclusion, while it is true that we do not have a contemporaneous
explanation for the development of nomina sacra, the evidence from early
Christian manuscripts suggests that the practice was deeply theological in
nature. The consistent use of nomina sacra for both Christ and the
Father reflects the early Christian belief in Christ's deity, a belief that
developed organically within the Christian community before being formalized in
later creeds.
The presence of nomina sacra for non-divine terms like
"mother" or "Jerusalem" does not undermine this argument
but rather reflects the broader reverence for sacred concepts in Christian
theology. Ultimately, the use of nomina sacra in early manuscripts
points to a theological understanding of Jesus as sharing in the divine essence
with the Father, which laid the groundwork for the later doctrine of the
Trinity.
