In prior posts, we’ve discussed the fact that there are several different variations in the manuscripts containing the Biblical text. If you’ve ever used one of the modern versions of the Bible, you’ve probably seen a footnote referencing “the oldest and best manuscripts.” We’ve explained that the scholars’ views on this contradict the clear teachings of scripture, and that the readings they prefer are actually corrupt. But we’ve not yet done them the justice to explain why they believe the Alexandrian manuscripts are the oldest and best, and why their thinking is so wrong. In this post, that’s what we’ll do.
Textual Criticism #
As we’ve explained before, the scholars have not come to these conclusions for scriptural reasons, but rather through human philosophy. Specifically, the philosophy of textual criticism.
If you know little about textual criticism, I recommend you read through the entry on textual criticism in the Encyclopedia Britannica. It provides a good look into the discipline from a favorable perspective, and since it is an unbiased source, I will quote from it extensively here.
Basically, textual criticism is a technique of restoring texts as nearly as possible to their original form.
Assumption of Corruption #
From the start then, we see that textual criticism is based on the underlying assumption that a text has been changed, and that the original has been lost, and thus must be restored. Indeed:
The premise of the textual critic’s work is that whenever a text is transmitted, variation occurs. This is because human beings are careless, fallible, and occasionally perverse. Variation can occur in several ways: through mechanical damage or accidental omission; through misunderstanding due to changes in fashions of writing; through ignorance of language or subject matter; through inattention or stupidity; and through deliberate efforts at correction. The task of the textual critic is to detect and, so far as possible, undo these effects. His concern is with the reconstruction of what no longer exists.
We should point out the implicit denial of any divine action here. A text to which this discipline applies itself is assumed to be wholly the result of human exertions, and its transmission wholly subject to human whim.
Of course, this is true of every other text known to man, but it is not true of the Bible. As we have previously shown, the Bible not only declares divine authorship, but a promise of divine guidance of transmission. God has promised that not one jot or tittle shall pass away. (Matthew 5:18, Luke 16:17)
As such, the discipline of textual criticism has absolutely no application to scripture whatever. It is only relevant to any manuscripts of the Bible corrupted by man. The text preserved by God is not subject to reconstruction, because it cannot be altered from its original form. God himself has promised that it will endure to all generations. (Psalm 12:6-7) It is not, never has been, and never will be “that which non longer exists.”
Yet if men must insist upon such a misguided mission as applying textual criticism to scripture, we would do well to at least understand why they are lead to the conclusions that they are. Let us pull back the curtain on the principles employed by the textual critic. We may even find that, when applied to scripture, textual criticism leads to different conclusions than the scholars suggest.
Historical Inquiry #
The methods of textual criticism, insofar as they are not codified common sense, are the methods of historical inquiry. Texts have been transmitted in an almost limitless variety of ways, and the criteria employed by the textual critic—technical, philological, literary, or aesthetic—are valid only if applied in awareness of the particular set of historical circumstances governing each case.
This is very important to understand. One must first have an idea of the history of a text before he can make judgments about what the original text ought to look like, what should be expected from it, and therefore what criteria are indicative of the original, and what is indicative of later variation.
Even from a secular point of view then, it is only valid to apply textual criticism to scripture after first creating a framework of history in which to interpret the variations within the text. As Christians, we must of course confine any such framework to be consistent with God’s own promises in regard to his word. There is much history of the texts which we do not know, but we do know what God has promised, and therefore, for such an ancient text, we are in an exceptionally good position. We know that there was One watching over the text during its transmission, and that he is fully in control of its history. While we may sometimes have no idea of what may have happened to create the varieties of biblical manuscripts found in the past, we do nonetheless have a basis for a historical framework: the promises found in the word of God itself.
Since he has promised to preserve it to all generations (cf. Psalm 12), we know that only a variant of the text that has been available to all generations, and current among his people, can possibly represent the original. This means that in searching for the original, we do not need to go out looking for new discoveries of ancient manuscripts. We can begin simply with the variations that are extant. Any variation which must be discovered can be safely disregarded. If it hasn’t been preserved, we know that it cannot be representative of the original form of the text.
The received text fulfills this criteria, because by definition it is that text received from past generations. It is the text which we know the church has used for at least one thousand years. And because the texts in the Alexandrian manuscripts were either unknown, or at least not in use at all, until about 150 years ago, they can be disregarded.
Thus, by constructing a biblical historical framework for the history of the text, based on the promises of God, we find that we are lead to the conclusion that the received text represents the original form.
Each Case is Special #
So why do so many scholars not share this conclusion? Simply put, because they do not begin with a scriptural framework. Rather than applying textual criticism as it properly should be, with special consideration for the case at hand, they apply it as if the Bible were just any other generic book. Their historical framework is one that they make up as they go along based on the variations that they have or discover. Just like the secular textual critic, even those Christians who study the history of the New Testament do so under the implicit assumptions of corruption and an absence of divine interference.
In this these scholars make fools of themselves, because they are neglecting the primary principle of textual criticism:
From the preceding discussion it is apparent that there is only one universally valid principle of textual criticism, the formulation of which can be traced back at least as far as the 18th-century German historian A.L. von Schlözer: that each case is special. The critic must begin by defining the problem presented by his particular material and the consequent limitations of his inquiry. Everything that is said below about “method” must be understood in the light of this general proviso. The celebrated dictum of the 18th-century English classical scholar Richard Bentley that “reason and the facts outweigh a hundred manuscripts” (ratio et res ipsa centum codicibus potiores sunt) is not a repudiation of science but a reminder that the critic is by definition one who discriminates (the word itself derives from the Greek word for “judge”), and that no amount of learning or mastery of method will compensate for a lack of common sense.
A severe lack of common sense on the part of critics of the New Testament text is apparent when they refuse to deal with the divinity of its Author and Preserver. No matter how fully they may comprehend “methods” of textual criticism, no matter how much knowledge of manuscripts they may posses, if they do not properly frame their inquiry, they may deftly prevent themselves from coming to the correct solution.
A Matter of Conjecture #
From this we must also understand the often arbitrary nature of the textual critic’s work. It is an exercise of the human intellect, a philosophy more than a science. It deals not with proofs, but with conjectures.
The best critic is he who discriminates best, whether between variants or between transmitted text and conjecture.
Conjectures as a rule occur to the mind spontaneously or not at all; diagnosis and prescription often present themselves at the same moment. This instinctive process is not under the critic’s control, though he can sharpen and regulate it by constant study and observation.
As you can see, textual criticism is a process very heavily influenced by the human mind. Ironically, our ‘fallible and sometimes perverse’ minds are called upon to discern between textual variants that are themselves deemed products of human error or corruption. The critic must hold to two seemingly contradictory axioms: that men cannot faithfully transmit a text, and yet that they can faithfully reconstruct it.
It is an exercise in conjecture, exalting the wisdom and mind of the critic above any other consideration. He must use the utmost of his intellect and knowledge of the text and its history to convince himself of the text’s original form.
The process of examination calls upon the critic’s full range of knowledge as well as his innate powers of taste and discrimination. The criteria applied must be those appropriate to the particular author (supposing his identity to be known), the period, the genre, and the particular character of the work. The opposing demands of analogy and anomaly must be weighed according to the circumstances. Many of the older generation of critics based their decisions on aprioristic or rigidly analogical principles of elegance and propriety, while the canons of modern criticism are based on historical studies of language and style. It is here that the circularity inherent in the whole operation is most evident, for the linguistic and stylistic criteria employed are themselves based on inductions from texts, probably including the one under examination. There is no escape from this difficulty; as the German philologist Karl Lachmann observed, it is precisely the task of the critic “to tread that circle deftly and warily.”
Treading the Circle #
If you have detected a bit of circular reasoning in textual criticism, you have now had that suspicion confirmed. Because textual criticism relies on the finite human mind, it is impossible for it to avoid circularity when dealing with the past. We cannot know the past directly, and therefore we must ultimately trust information transmitted to us by our antecedents. Thus, for the average text, we must rely on the transmission of information fraught with human error in order to attempt the restoration of another, or perhaps even the same text.
But once again we must remind ourselves that the Bible is not the average text. Its Author is able to know not only the past, but the future as well. And when he has so clearly declared that his word will be preserved, we know that we can trust him.
Rejecting a biblical framework for the history of the text of scripture, however, will inevitably lead to this circularity and self-confirmation. Indeed:
Two complementary principles originated by the New Testament critics of the 18th century are often cited as aids to decision: utrum in alterum abiturum erat? (“which reading would be more likely to have given rise to the other?”) and difficilior lectio potior (“the more difficult reading is to be preferred”). These are no more than useful rules of thumb; it has been suggested that in practice these and other such principles reduce themselves to the truism melior lectio potior, “the better reading is to be preferred.”
It is abundantly clear that when the history of a text is almost completely unknown, the textual critic’s job is to employ circular reasoning to the satisfaction of his own whim. He is, in essence, to be wise in his own conceit. (Romans 12:16)
Only to be Wrong #
And to what end is all this?
Remember that without a concrete history of the text’s transmission, the critic is left with his own conjecture. And, as we said above, why should human error or ignorance be any less on display here than in textual transmission? The Encyclopedia Britannica frankly admits that it is not:
The critic does not attack or defend the transmitted text; he asks himself whether it is authentic. How radically he treats it, and how many conjectural readings he substitutes for transmitted readings, depends not on his temperament but on the nature of the problem. If he has studied the history of textual criticism he will know that as a matter of demonstrable fact nearly all conjectures are wrong, and he will accept that many of his solutions are in the nature of things provisional. [emphasis added]
Textual criticism, when applied to a text represented by thousands of manuscripts, with an age of thousands of years, without a valid historical framework, is simply a mind game that can accomplish very little. It is an exercise in futility, which many critics of the New Testament have now come to admit.
No Original? #
A problem of particular difficulty and importance is posed by the Greek New Testament. Though the text appears to have been transmitted from the first in writing, the textual variations are in many ways analogous to those of an oral tradition, and it is commonly held that the essential task of the critic is not to try to reconstruct the “original” but to isolate those forms of the text that were current in particular centres in the ancient world.
As a last gasp of desperation, the modern day critic of the New Testament throws up his hands and declares that there simply was no original. Now they not only contradict the doctrine of preservation, but seemingly almost of inspiration itself. But of course, it could not be that they are simply too ignorant or lack the prerequisite common sense to discern the original reading. No, the text itself, and its manner of transmission, must be at fault, and not the critic. It is God’s negligence in preserving his word that has lead to its irreparable corruption, despite the best efforts of critics’ inviolable minds.
But Why? #
What convinces faithful Christian men (as well as a good number of less faithful, and even faithless and secular scholars) at our seminaries to embrace this way of thinking? It is simply because it is what they have been taught, and what their teachers have been taught. It is the way of thinking that they are inculcated with, by people that they see as authoritative, and who they look to as stewards of the word of God, and thus who (in most cases) they would not dare to question. (But see 1 Corinthians 4:2.)
Ultimately, it is because of men who held an explicitly different view of scripture, who refused the biblical framework for the history of the text, because they refused to believe what God had said. It is ultimately an outright rejection of scripture which lead us here, though many men now are only following what they are taught, without realizing the implications.
Some otherwise biblically sound men get caught up in this philosophy and vain deceit, after the traditions of men, after the rudiments of the world, an not after Christ. (Colossians 2:8) But it is time that we exhort our brethren, as Paul did Timothy, to avoid these oppositions of science, falsely so called. (1 Timothy 6:20)
Our faith should not be resting in such a fickle human endeavor as this. We should not trust the wisdom of men, but the power of God (1 Corinthians 2:5), who in his own wisdom and power has indeed preserved his word.
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