“So, inerrancy was in essence adapted and used by enslavers?”
“Yes.”
I was sitting in Stephen Ray’s office working on my Ph.D. at Garrett Evangelical Theological Seminary. I had asked if I could take a directed study on Reformed theology with him, a Black Reformed scholar. In another class, I had said something dismissive about Calvinism, only to be called out by another classmate who herself was ordained Presbyterian.
I had equated “Calvinist” with “inerrant.” Realizing that just like there are multiple expressions of Baptist faith, so too could multiple streams of Reformed faith exist. The class wasn’t related to my dissertation, but I needed it for my own faith.
Kate Hanch
That wasn’t my first, nor last, faux pas in the classroom. When I took a class on the Holy Spirit, I was equally dismissive of another text, implying the author saw the Bible as inerrant. This time, my professor admonished me, claiming inerrancy was a particularly United States phenomenon and the British author took the Bible seriously, but not literally.
Growing up in a moderate Baptist context, this was essentially how I approached Scripture. While in high school, I remember our youth pastor paving the way for thinking differently about creation rather than a literal six days. I struggled but knew it had to be true. I memorized the popular Bible verses: Philippians 4:13, Psalm 23, Jeremiah 29:11. I turned to the Bible after breakups and for tests and laughed at the names and cities that sounded like curse words (for reference, it was the city “Shittim” in Joshua 2-3. Do not read that passage with teenagers.)
When I got to college for a degree in religion at a private Baptist university, I encountered neo-Calvinist Southern Baptists who insisted on biblical inerrancy as a test of orthodoxy. I heard a lecture on why women could not be pastors (despite me being the only student who consistently offered to pray at the beginning of that class). As we translated Ephesians from the Greek and Jonah from the Hebrew, we learned about verbal plenary inspiration and how the original “autographs” were inerrant. I learned the Bible never contradicted itself, and one must look at a parallel passage should one encounter an apparent contradiction.
But I always felt uneasy when looking at the “fruit” of believing and affirming inerrancy. Embracing inerrancy did not make us more welcoming of students from other countries. Inerrancy didn’t cause us to address the white supremacy that led to racial tensions present on campus. Inerrancy helped us be confident in our beliefs but reflect little of Jesus’ life.
“I always felt uneasy when looking at the ‘fruit’ of believing and affirming inerrancy.”
As I unpacked the harm this doctrine caused in seminary and graduate school, I learned how faith in God does not mean worshiping the Bible. Further, I realized how inerrancy had nothing to do with Christian orthodoxy, but rather a desire for certainty. I realized many Christians cannot have faith in God without having an inerrant Bible. And many Christians don’t know how to be Christian when it isn’t culturally ingrained.
As multiple states introduce and pass bills related to posting the Ten Commandments in public school classrooms, I can’t help but wonder the motivation behind such proposals. Do they help us be better citizens? Do they align with our First Amendment rights of the separation of church and state? For those who identify as Baptists, how does this align with our Baptist identity? Do these laws help us become more faithful followers of Christ?
From my observation, no. These Ten Commandments mandates seem to connect with the same motivations that promote inerrancy of Scripture: a certainty of one’s own belief in a changing world.
I eventually realized how nebulous inerrancy seems to be. I’d begin to define it, then read an alternative definition. Inerrancy did not, and does not, equate literalism and accounts for literary genres and poetical metaphors. Simultaneously, biblical scholars and theologians do not always agree on what counts as “historical fact” versus what tells a story that has a truth element to it.
Although inerrancy claims to offer certainty, we realize ultimately it’s a power move.
As Texas SB-10 goes into law this week, we can realize this political move is a long line in U.S. history to wield the Bible as a weapon, whether it’s in the form of espousing an inerrant hermeneutic or in blurring the lines between church and state. How we respond is determined by who be believe the Triune God to be and how that God interacts with the world — and within our own selves.
May our witness reflect God’s abundant love, and may our faith not rely upon certainty of our own opinion or interpretation.
Kate Hanch serves as director of the Baptist House of Studies at Perkins School of Theology of Southern Methodist University. She earned a Ph.D. from Garrett Evangelical Theological Seminary and a master of divinity degree from Central Baptist Theological Seminary. She was ordained at Holmeswood Baptist Church in Kansas City, Mo. Her first book, Storied Witness, explores the theology of Sojourner Truth, Zilpha Elaw and Julia Foote.
Related articles:
Thou shall not? Schools in Texas and Arkansas caught between rulings
Texas schools given conflicting advice on Ten Commandments
Federal judge strikes down Texas Ten Commandments law
I’m a Christian teacher who opposes posting the Ten Commandments | Opinion by Rebecca Johnson
Why I’m a pastor who opposes a Ten Commandments bill | Opinion by Preston Clegg
Court strikes down Louisiana Ten Commandments law