LCA Point 5: The Necessary Object is God

This is our third post in a series on Leibniz’ Cosmological Argument. You can find the first post here and the second here. The full argument is:

(1)               Every contingent fact has an explanation.

(2)               There is a contingent fact that includes all other contingent facts.

(3)               Therefore, there is an explanation of this fact.

(4)               This explanation must involve a necessary object.

(5)               This necessary object is God.

Today we will be examining…

(5)               This necessary object is God.

This is much like the first point, in that it’s not obvious and requires some argumentation. First, let’s talk about what it means to be a necessary object. A necessary object is an object that explains its own existence. It does not “depend” on any other object to exist. Using the possible world terminology we introduced last post, a necessary object is an object that exists in every possible world. 

So what properties can we deduce about the necessary object? Well it’s clearly not material, as material objects depend on matter to exist and are contingent. In fact, it’s not composite at all, since composite objects depend on their components to exist. So the necessary object must be entirely simple.

Whatever necessarily exists must always exist, since the fact that it necessarily exists is true no matter what time period you are in. So the necessary object is everlasting.

The necessary object must be unchangeable. Suppose that the necessary object were to change. That change must either be caused by the necessary object itself, or something else. It cannot be caused by something else, because that would make the state of the necessary object contingent on that thing that caused it. So if it changes, it must cause that change itself. If something changes itself, either part of it changes another part, or the whole changes the whole. Since the object in question has no parts, the whole necessary object must change the whole necessary object. But if this were the case, it would have already been the thing it was going to change into. So it cannot change.

Now Leibniz presents an argument that the necessary object has understanding, a will, and power. He argues that it has understanding, as it can survey all possible worlds it can create. It has a will, as it selected one possible world. And it has power, as it actually created that world.

Is this argument reasonable? Consider first the understanding argument. Can the necessary object survey all possible worlds? A possible world is a world that could exist. If such a world contains any contingent objects, then the necessary object must exist. And if it doesn’t contain any contingent objects, and only the necessary object, then the necessary object must still exist.

Our necessary object explains all contingent objects. That means it must in some way contain information about those objects. And it contains information not only about contingent objects that exist, but also all possible contingent objects, since it would also explain them. And clearly it contains information of itself, since everything does. This kind of containing information is understanding.

Does it have a will? Of all the possible worlds, it chose one. Is simply choosing one possibility out of many having a will? Probably not, since my computer also does this and does not have a will. Instead, it seems more reasonable to say that having a will, or maybe a free will, is choosing an option apart from any outside compulsion. My computer chooses what it was programmed to choose, and so doesn’t have a will in this sense. But the necessary object is not compelled by anything external to it, and its choice comes entirely from within. So it seems it has a will.

And power? This one is more clear: it did in some sense create the world. It chose this possible world, and actualised it over other possible worlds. That is power.


Since the understanding, will, and power are directed towards all possibilities, they are infinite. The necessary being understands all possibilities, can will to create any of them, and has the power to carry out that will, whatever it may be.

And since choosing is to judge that the thing you choose is the best thing among the alternatives, and since the necessary object has full knowledge (knowledge of all possible worlds), it judges which is actually the best among infinitely many alternatives. This means that it is in a sense infinitely good.

Another argument can be made for a more general agency of the necessary object. As far as we understand explanations, there are three types: scientific, conceptual, and agential. The necessary object is clearly not a scientific explanation, since it cannot be material, due to simplicity. Further, science only explains things in terms of contingent things, or at least it has in every case we know of.

Nor is it a conceptual explanation. Among the contingent things we find substances, the stuff that other things are made from. Dualists will argue that the soul is a different kind of substance to matter, for example. Matter/energy is the substance that physical objects are made of. But the activity of a substance cannot be conceptually explained by the activity of something other than that substance. A conceptual explanation can tell us why things behave the way they do, in terms of what they are. But a conceptual explanation cannot give an account of why they are in the first place. So a conceptual explanation is insufficient for the big contingent fact.

So the only option remains is an agential explanation: an explanation in terms of some agent. So the necessary thing must be an agent in some sense.

We can also demonstrate uniqueness: every property the necessary object has must be a property it necessarily has, by a similar argument to the simplicity argument above. So if there are two necessary objects, they have the same properties. But two objects with identical properties are actually just one object. So there is only one necessary object.

At this point, we have proven that there exists a necessary object, which has infinite knowledge, infinite power, is infinitely good, is simple, eternal, unique, immutable etc. I know no name we could give this object other than “God”. And of course we have not yet arrived at Christianity. But I claim that after proving that this God exists, we may go looking for it in the world.

We find this: there exists a religious tradition spanning thousands of years who claim to worship something with all of these properties. They record centuries of interactions with this thing, who behaves exactly as we’d expect God to behave, including giving and fulfilling prophecy. And in the end we see the man Jesus who comes claiming to be God come in the flesh, who behaves as we’d expect God to behave, with a supremely good moral character, who fulfills prophecy given over the last few thousand years. I believe Him.

LCA – Points 2 to 4

In our previous post on Leibniz’ Cosmological Argument, we examined the first premise, the PSR. I would summarize the PSR with the claim “reality is fundamentally intelligible”, though we go into more technical detail in that previous post. To remind you, here is the full argument:

 

  1. Every contingent fact has an explanation.
  2. There is a contingent fact that includes all other contingent facts.
  3. Therefore, there is an explanation of this fact.
  4. This explanation must involve a necessary object.
  5. This necessary object is God.

 

Here we will examine points 2 to 4. These are reasonably simple, and although they are sometimes disputed there shouldn’t be anything too controversial here. Most skeptics who deny this argument will take issue with premises 1 or 5.

(2)               There is a contingent fact that includes all other contingent facts.

It is at this point that we must define what a “contingent” fact is. Briefly, a contingent fact is a fact that does not explain itself. For example, we might say “a cat exists”. Is that self-explanatory? Can we coherently ask “why does a cat exist?”. In the case of my cat, explanations may include: me and my brother asked my parents for one, and also the cat has parents, and also the cat is composed of molecules, and also the species “cat” was created by God. These are all partial explanations for the contingent fact “my cat exists”. Here, a contingent fact is any fact like this, any fact X that has an explanation Y, where Y and X are not identical.

This definition is a bit vague, and purposefully so. There are multiple conceptions of precisely how we cash out contingency, and I want my argument to be general enough to cover all of them. But if you are after a more specific definition, try this one: a contingent fact is a fact that is true in some possible worlds, but not all possible worlds. There are some worlds in which there is no cat (or no matter), and some that include a cat. Note that I am not talking about a multiverse here, some worlds contain one universe, some contain multiple, some contain none. A possible world is a way that reality could have logically possibly been, but isn’t. A possible state of affairs that could have attained, but didn’t. If this is a new idea for you, perhaps study this SEP article. We will occasionally make use of this definition during our argument, but I will attempt to stay as general as possible.

Some of you are necessitarians and reject possible worlds. I am. If that is you, then we will need a different notion of contingency. I intend to publish my thoughts on that once we have completed the entire LCA series.

The actual premise is relatively easy. If it’s true that “x is a fact” and “y is a fact”, then it’s true that “both x and y are facts”. So we can construct a true statement such as “x is a fact and y is a fact and……..” and so on until we’ve covered every contingent fact. This fact that we’ve constructed is contingent because all of the incorporated facts are contingent. If any of them could possibly be different, then so could the constructed fact. In some other literature, this fact is called the BCF or BCCF (Big Contingent Fact, or Big Collected Contingent Fact).

There is a minor concern here that the BCF could be self-referent. That is, the BCF includes the BCF. Some of you will be familiar with Russel’s Paradox, which relies on this kind of self-reference. So there are two solutions, I think either works. Either we say that this isn’t a set, and we call it a “collection” or something, and then we aren’t bothered by self-reference. Or we construct the BCF by including every contingent fact that isn’t the BCF, we include every other contingent fact. This is a relatively minor issue, it is in a sense just nitpicking. But it seems important to include it so people don’t get grumpy at me.


(3)               Therefore, there is an explanation of this fact.

 

This follows from (1) and (2). Every contingent fact has an explanation due to the PSR, so the fact we just constructed has an explanation

(4)               This explanation must involve a necessary object.

Let’s suppose it isn’t true, suppose the BCF is explained by a contingent fact. Given the PSR, then this explanation still has to exist. We’re supposing it’s not necessary, which means it must be contingent. But if it’s contingent, then it’s part of the fact that we’re trying to explain.

This means that the explanation is its own explanation. It doesn’t depend on anything else to be true. This means it’s not contingent, and is instead necessary. So by reductio, the explanation for the constructed contingent fact must be necessary.

Some complain that I’ve equivocated between “fact” and “object” here. But this is not a big problem, like the self-reference above. Every fact refers to at least one object, and for every object X we have the fact “X exists”. We can travel between “facts” and “objects” freely. I choose the term which best primes the intuition of the person reading it.

This will conclude the middle section of the LCA. Next time, we will investigate what the necessary explanation is, we will work out what properties and attributes it must have, and end up concluding that it is God.

 

 

Discipleship in the age of Dawkins, Gaga, and Amazon

This podcast from TGC is one of the best I’ve heard in a while. Explaining discipleship in the context of a biblical eschatology vs. three competing modern eschatologies of enlightenment, sexual revolution, and consumerism. The focus on eschatology was extremely interesting and perceptive. If you want to think about how the church can engage modern culture, this may be very useful.

Laying the Groundwork for the LCA: The PSR

The Leibnizian Cosmological Argument is one of my favourite arguments for God. The LCA can be summarised in this way:

  1. Every contingent fact has an explanation.
  2. There is a contingent fact that includes all other contingent facts.
  3. Therefore, there is an explanation of this fact.
  4. This explanation must involve a necessary object.
  5. This necessary object is God.

 

Today we are only going to discuss point 1. And this will probably not be our only discussion of this point, as there are many levels of counter arguments and responses to those that we will need to discuss at some point. This premise is called the Principle of Sufficient Reason.

A more general formulation (Taken from the SEP) is given as: For every fact F, there must be an explanation why F is the case. There are several good arguments for accepting the PSR, but so far there’s no proof of it.

First, if we do not accept the PSR, I would argue that we must accept some unfortunate consequences. I believe that I’m currently sitting in front of my laptop typing things into it. I believe this because I can see it. Because there are photons bouncing off my laptop (or emitted from the screen) and entering my eyes. But if the PSR is false, then there’s no reason to think that anything actually caused those photons to exist. Not just that I might be a brain in a vat being fed sensory information, or deceived by an evil demon like Descartes might suggest, but that there may be no explanation for the sensory information at all.

If we don’t take the PSR, then we can’t look at facts and try to work out the best explanation. Sherlock, for example, takes in a lot of details and provides usually a good explanation for why the facts are that way. But he never includes in his reasoning the option that there’s no explanation. Neither should we. We should look for explanations, and so we must always assume that there is one.

If the PSR is not true, why don’t we see lots of violations of it? If I saw a soccer ball materialize in front of me, I’d probably look for an explanation. But if the PSR weren’t true, there’d be no reason to look for an explanation. It could just be a brute fact that the soccer ball exists there. No explanation for why it is there.

Which brings me to the next argument: even if there’s not always an explanation, we ought to believe that there is one and look for it. Consider the example of the theory of evolution: what is the explanation for the variation of species? Normally, we’d say something like evolution via random mutation and natural selection. We’d justify that claim by pointing out the large number of observations that confirm it. But how do these observations confirm it? They confirm it via the PSR: we believe that evolution is true because it is the best explanation for our observations.

But how did we determine that there was an explanation here? The fact is that we didn’t, and we would have no way of doing so. We assumed there was, and we looked for it. But a Creationist who responds to the evidence for evolution with “Perhaps there’s no explanation” would be rightly ridiculed. We value explanations over no explanation, even if we can’t conclusively show that there is no explanation. We ought to believe there is one, even if there isn’t.

A more complex argument comes from Della Rocca. I link his paper below, and I will give a summary (and occasionally steal parts verbatim) of his argument here. First, he establishes that in every-day reasoning, we use something he calls “explicability arguments”. Something like this: no explanation for a state of affairs means that state of affairs cannot attain. Consider this: we have a scale with a weight on either side. If the weights are equal (and the scales are fair, and there are no outside influences), we know the scale will be balanced. How do we know this? Because there is no reason the scales would be unbalanced, there is no explanation as to how that would happen, so it cannot be the case. We reject the possibility of an unbalanced scale because it has no possible explanation. Or another example: suppose we have two substances. Suppose they are identical in every way, that they have the same chemical makeup, same structure, etc. One dissolves in water. We know that the other will dissolve in water too. Why? Because there is no reason why it would not, if one has the disposition to dissolve in water, how would the other fail to have this disposition? If they are identical, nothing could ground this difference, so we reject the possibility of them behaving differently.

In fact, it seems like avoiding inexplicability is a main motivator to naturalism or physicalism or materialism. We want to avoid believing in things that can’t be explained (such as the supernatural). The naturalist says that if it cannot be explained naturally, it does not exist. Again, they affirm the PSR in this context.

If we can use these arguments in general, then the PSR follows easily. Clearly we want to take a limited PSR in some local contexts. But can this kind of reasoning apply in general? Someone who denies the PSR might claim that it applies to some situations, but not others. But we claim that there is one example where we use inexplicability arguments where we can’t appeal to a local PSR without doing so arbitrarily and question-beggingly. And it is precisely the case in question in this argument.

What is it in virtue of which something exists? The existence of each thing that exists must be explicable. When we have causation, we ask why it is that this is a case of causation. So when we have something that exists, we ask why it is the case that this thing exists. The denier of the PSR attempts to draw a line somewhere, and explain why we can use a PSR in some contexts, but not in the existence context.

The denier of the PSR must draw this line in a principled, non-arbitrary way. This is because to draw the line in an unprincipled, arbitrary way is to say that there is no explanation or no reason why the law is drawn in this place. But to say that there is no explanation is to say that the PSR is false. And surely people cannot be allowed to assume the PSR is false when they are trying to argue against the PSR. That would be circular, I may as well assume God exists when trying to argue that God exists.

So of course, this line must be drawn in a principled, non-arbitrary way. And of course there is no such way. If you and I want to use the kind of explicability arguments above, then you and I need to come up with some reason why they work in some cases and not others. And unless we do come up with such a reason, we must accept the full PSR.

Further reading:

1 Week Offer: All Credo Courses Free

Some of you may be familiar with the website Credo, if you’ve spoken to me on discord you will have heard of other free offers from them. Probably Gary Habermas’ course on the Resurrection.

Today they’re advertising that you can “purchase” all their courses for free, offer valid for a week. I recommend you do so, some of it is very useful for apologetics.

Their website seems to be having a bad day, I am having trouble getting in. But some people have managed, and we have a whole week to get in and buy them.

I am not affiliated with Credo in any way, I just think this is a good resource.

John 1:3, NA28, and the Deity of Christ

During a recent discussion with a Jehovah’s Witness, I deployed the standard argument for the deity of Christ from John 1:3. The argument is one that I use in my previous summary of scriptural support for the Trinity. Here is the passage in question, from the NASB;

All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being. In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men.

The argument briefly is this: Here the Logos (Christ, clearly, from v14) is the mechanism by which all things came into being. All things which came into being did so through Him. We create two categories of things: Things that didn’t come into being, and things that came into being through Christ. The non-Trinitarians here believe that Christ is something that came into being, so they can’t put Christ in either box. And so Christ cannot have come into being.

However in the most recent edition of the critical text, the NA28, we see that the Greek is rendered slightly differently. You can see the new Greek here, but since this isn’t a textual criticism blog I won’t go into many details. It concerns the placement of some grammatical marks that didn’t exist at all in the original Greek. So the underlying Greek text (no spaces between words, no grammar) remains unchanged, but the scholars now believe that the sentence division should be two words earlier. I am also no Greek scholar, but I will offer a tentative amateur translation of the new Greek here:

All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him, not even one did. What emerged in Him was life, and the life was the Light of men.

You can see here the difference right at the boundary between the two sentences. And my interlocutor claimed that this difference invalidated my argument. They claimed that since the ὃ γέγονεν is connected to the second sentence, we immediately are given an exception to the “all things”: the life and light. And since that exception exists, then we have grounds for thinking that Christ Himself is another exception.

I do not think this is a good counter-argument. I think even the new sentence 1 is very clear: It not only says “All things”, but it still contains the phrase “not even one” (οὐδὲ ἕν). John is doubly emphatic here: all things emerged through Him, and not even one emerged apart from Him. It doesn’t seem like John is leaving a lot of room for exceptions here.

So can the life and the light be an exception? First, notice that the previous sections discuss what emerged through the Logos, but here we are talking about what emerges in the Logos. For us to have an exception, we’d have to have that the light and life emerged in the Logos but not through the Logos. Is that reasonable?

Certainly not, especially when we consider that the life and the life are the Logos Himself. He Himself is the Light, He Himself is the Light. But John describes Him this way because they emphasize two aspects of the Logos: the Light because He opposes the darkness and shines on men, so that we may see God. And the Life, because not only is He the origin and source and guiding principle of all life, but also because by Him we may “have life, and have it to the full”, that we may have true life in this life and eternal life in the next.

The life and light emerged in Him, they became apparent, they were unfolded, because He came down to us. The Logos being the Life and Light are related to the Incarnation. This doesn’t get the Unitarian out of the “not even one”. Through Christ, everything was made. Without Christ, not even one of them was. The clear, natural, obvious reading is that Christ is unmade. Otherwise, there would be no “not even one”.

Although in this conversation I didn’t get a chance, in previous similar conversations I asked my colleague what John could have possibly written here to indicate that Christ really was uncreated and created all things. And their answer was that if the sentence division really was in the traditional place, rather than in the place indicated by the NA28, then that would do it.

Consider what that means. John didn’t write a full stop. John didn’t write using any grammatical marks. John only wrote the Greek letters. My Unitarian friend says that if John had written “…οὐδὲ ἕν ὃ γέγονεν. ἐν αὐτῷ ζωὴ ἦν…” instead of “…οὐδὲ ἕν. ὃ γέγονεν ἐν αὐτῷ ζωὴ ἦν…” then that would be sufficient proof that Christ was uncreated. But think about that, that’s just untrue. Because if John *did* write the first case, then they’d still read it as the second, because John didn’t write with any punctuation!. I ask them what would possibly convince them that they’re wrong, and they answer by telling me that what already exists would be enough. But the fact is that even if John did write precisely what the Unitarian says would convince him, the Unitarian would just move the sentence division around until it didn’t say that. Because that’s precisely what they have done.

And notice that for this entire argument, I have simply accepted the NA28 reading, because I don’t think it helps the Unitarian case at all. In the discussions where this has come up, the Unitarian has, even after I’ve granted the NA28 for the sake of discussion, spent much time trying to justify it. But that’s not the point. I am no Greek scholar, I’ll just accept whatever the experts say. Which at the moment is probably the NA28. But even granting that, we still deduce that Christ is the Uncreated Creator. 

Sola Scriptura: Can Rome Save Us?

Yesterday we had a discussion about Sola Scriptura, and the challenge of coming to a canon under this doctrine. And some of what we said might make people uncomfortable: that we have to rely on recognising it, something that might seem subjective and vague.

Given this, one might be tempted to say that Rome offers us a solution. We have no quick and easy way of coming up with a canon, but Rome might. Perhaps an appeal to the Tradition or Magisterium can give us not only an infallible scripture, but an infallible contents page.

This is however not the case. Putting aside all of the good reasons we have to stay on this side of the Tiber, reasons about salvation by grace alone, Rome still has no good solution.

Yes, it is true that Rome has infallibly defined a canon.  But they didn’t do this in the first century, or the second, or the third. They did it int he fifteenth. For fourteen hundred years, Christians had no infallible declaration of the canon. For fourteen hundred years, Roman Catholics (though if we are precise, I would argue that Roman Catholics haven’t existed for that long) haven’t had an infallible declaration of the canon.

Yesterday we had an important question: how can the faithful first century BC Jew know what the scriptures are? With Rome, this is exacerbated: if an infallible canon list is necessary, then how did a believing 10th century Christian know what it is? Rome doesn’t help the situation here.

But I think there is an even deeper problem here, a problem that is endemic to authority in general. No matter what our authority is (Scripture, Tradition, Magisterium), then the man of God has to be able to recognise that it is an authority. And it’s no good for that authority to tell us that they are an authority. Yesterday we avoided the accusation of circularity, but that would be circular.

Suppose that soon, the current Pope speaks ex-cathedra and says something which is heretical. Many Roman Catholics would claim that this immediately causes him to become an antipope, and he immediately anathematizes himself. Suppose that the Cardinals agree, but the Pope does not. Suppose that the Cardinals elect a new Pope. Now there are two claims.

Who are we to believe holds the authority of the Magisterium? (Permit me to simplify a bit here). Each claims to. It comes down to the individual to investigate (under the advice of wise friends and clergy) and decide who is the true Pontiff and who is not. The recognition of authority eventually always comes down to the individual, and in principle, no authority can ever get around that.

So while we may have some work to do, and perhaps some uncomfortable conclusions to accept, when it comes to the formation of the canon, we cannot appeal to Rome. Rome doesn’t make our problem any easier, or our situation any more comfortable.

Sola Scriptura: The Bible Doesn’t Define Canon

I am a Reformed Baptist, so I regularly find myself in debates with Roman Catholics. When discussing the pillar of the Protestant Reformation Sola Scriptura, Roman Catholics often make this claim: Sola Scriptura must be false, since scripture doesn’t tell us what scripture is. But Sola Scriptura requires that all necessary Christian doctrines be found in scripture. The canon is a necessary Christian doctrine, not found in scripture, therefore Sola Scriptura is false.

Perhaps more formally:

  • If Sola Scriptura is true, then all important doctrines are found in scripture
  • Canon is not found in scripture
  • Canon is an important doctrine
  • Therefore Sola Scriptura is false

 

This is indeed a valid argument. So to object, we must object to a premise. I think there are several avenues of attack here.

First, we can reject premise 1. Instead of claiming that all important doctrines are found in scripture, we can claim merely (as if this were a small thing) that scripture is the sole infallible rule of faith for the Christian. Other authorities may be good and useful, but scripture is the only infallible authority.

The problem with this is that it undermines a common argument for Sola Scriptura. That argument being from 2 Timothy 3:16-17. Scripture says (under this interpretation) that scripture is sufficient to fully equip the man of faith. And if we take a weaker view of Sola Scriptura, then we are open to the objection that scripture is not sufficient to equip us by telling us what is scripture. This indicates our interpretation is wrong. So we don’t want to deploy that argument. We want to affirm that scripture is the sole infallible authority, but we also want to affirm that scripture is sufficient to equip us.

We certainly don’t want to claim that canon is not an important doctrine. Although good work and theology can be done with an incomplete canon (as some of the church fathers had an incomplete canon), we would be foolish to say that it’s not important to know precisely what God has said.

So we find ourselves with rejecting this premise: “Canon is not found in scripture”. At first glance, this seems to be true. The bible contains no inspired table of contents, we can’t merely read it and get a list of all the books that are inspired.

We have some hope, however. First, consider the Old Testament only. We can derive an Old Testament canon from scripture, by considering the New Testament. Jesus and the Apostles treated the Old Testament they had, the full Hebrew canon, as being scripture and inerrant. They quoted sections of most books, but the unquoted books (like Song of Songs) remain part of the canon accepted by all Jews, and Jesus and the Apostles affirm this.

(Sidenote: if we use this process, we come up with the Protestant canon rather than the Roman Catholic canon)

But that doesn’t establish for us a whole canon, because it leaves out the New Testament. What the New Testament does do is affirm that we should hold to all the teachings of Jesus, and all the teachings of the Apostles. We do attribute Apostolic authorship to almost all of the New Testament works, so we have made some more progress. But we have a pretty big problem: Hebrews. Hebrews is of course anonymous, and there is no consensus on the author. What we do know is that the early church thought it was Pauline, but modern scholars (even conservative scholars) are now confident that it is not Pauline. There are some who think that it was a sermon from Paul transcribed by Luke, but that’s a very small minority. It certainly isn’t a Pauline epistle written by Paul like Galatians or Ephesians.

This is not the only problem with our approach here, however. We still are open to the objection: how can the faithful first century BC Jew know what God’s word is? They have no NT, which we have used. They must have some other methodology. So I do not think this approach is significant (though I think Apostolic authorship is important and sufficient to establish canonicity).

Does scripture offer us an alternative? I think it does, but I am not sure it is one that many will like. I think it is John 10:27

“My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me;

I think that this is true of the Christian: we hear God’s words, we recognize them, and because He has known (and regenerated) us, our ears are open to hear and follow. And we do that, and we keep Hebrews (and Jude, which we didn’t mention earlier). And the Jew in the 1st century BC can keep the Law and the Prophets. Why? Because (John 7:46b)

“Never has a man spoken the way this man speaks.”

And no-one has ever spoken like God has spoken. And in fact Jesus expects this of us (John 14:10-11):

 Do you not believe that I am in the Father, and the Father is in Me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on My own initiative, but the Father abiding in Me does His works. Believe Me that I am in the Father and the Father is in Me; otherwise believe because of the works themselves.

Jesus expects us to believe Him, not primarily because of His works, but because of what He says. His words. I think we can safely apply these to all of God’s words. The regenerate believer, having had their ears opened, recognizes God’s voice and follows Him.

(Note that we may be accused of circularity here. Since it might seem like we are saying that scripture is true because scripture is true, or that we are using scripture to prove scripture. That would be a misunderstanding of the topic in question. I and Roman Catholics already agree that all of scripture is God-breathed and inerrant. But my contention is: we need nothing outside scripture (more or less, as I’ve said above), and scripture agrees. The Roman Catholic here is questioning whether scripture does agree. We are not trying to show that scripture is true by assuming scripture is true)

There is much more to say on the topic of the formation of the canon, authority, tradition and revelation. I will not get into all of this now, but I would encourage anyone interested to continue studying.

Further Reading: