@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.