The Uniqueness Of The Judeo-Christian Scriptures

"There are no other "sacred" books that anywhere nearly come up to the Scriptures in the character of their contents and the unity of their plan. Speaking of the Mohammedan, Zoroastrian, and Buddhist Scriptures, James Orr says, they are "destitute of beginning, middle, or end. They are, for the most part, collections of heterogeneous materials, loosely placed together. How different everyone must acknowledge it to be with the Bible! From Genesis to Revelation we feel that this book is in a real sense a unity. It is not a collection of fragments, but has, as we say, an organic character...There is nothing exactly resembling it, or even approaching it, in all literature."4

Henry Clarence Thiessen, Introduction to the New Testament, p. 86

The Uniqueness Of The Biblical Answer To Human Sin And Suffering

"We naturally turn to the so-called "sacred" books of the world for an answer to our problems. But we cannot find any logical or adequate solution of the sin-question in the five Classics of Confucianism, the Vedas of Hinduism, or the Koran of Mohammedanism. When Joseph Cook, many years ago at the Parliament of Religions in Chicago, challenged the priests of the ancient religions to answer Lady Macbeth's question: "How cleanse this red right hand?" all the priests were dumb. They had no answer to this question. But when we turn to the Bible, particularly to the New Testament, we get an answer that satisfies both the mind and the heart. In substance it is this: Christ "bare our sins in his body upon the tree; by whose stripes ye were healed" (1 Pet. 2:24). God has found a way by means of which He can remain just and justify the sinner that believes in Jesus (Rom. 3:26)."

Henry Clarence Thiessen, Introduction to the New Testament, p. 84

Examining The Treasury Of Merit In Light Of Scripture

          The spiritual goods of the communion of saints are referred to as the “church’s treasury” to denote not a repository of material wealth, but the infinite value of Christ’s redemptive merits. According to Catholic teaching, these merits, which include Christ’s atoning sacrifice as well as the prayers and good works of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the saints, are inexhaustible and can be applied to believers for the remission of sins and their temporal consequences (CCC #1476, #1477). Such a formulation, however, invites closer scrutiny from both scriptural and historical perspectives.

          Scripture presents a clear picture: no human action can substitute for the singular, all-sufficient atonement of Christ. Passages like Isaiah 53:4–6 and 1 John 2:1–2 underscore that the shed blood of Christ is the sole propitiation before God, leaving no room for additional “merits” to cover the guilt and consequences of sin. The notion that the merits of Mary or other saints could add to, or somehow supplement, Christ's work contradicts this fundamental biblical principle. As the Apostle Paul reminds us in Romans 3:9–23, no human being is righteous enough to secure salvation through works. This scriptural stance challenges the very basis of a system that envisions a “treasury” to be tapped into by the faithful.

          In Philippians 3, Paul emphatically declares that he counts all his past achievements as loss compared to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:7–8). This radical revaluation insists that nothing, no personal credential nor any derivative merit, can add to the unique, all-sufficient righteousness conferred by Christ’s sacrifice. If even Paul’s own accolades are rendered worthless in the light of Christ’s redemptive work, then the idea that any supplementary merit (be it from Mary or the saints) could enhance one’s salvation is fundamentally at odds with this teaching. By devaluing all human accomplishments, Philippians 3 reinforces that salvation rests solely on Christ’s finished work, leaving no room for an additive treasury of merit.

          If we accept that Christ’s merits are indeed infinite, then they should, in principle, atone comprehensively for both the guilt and the temporal punishment of sin. Yet, the Roman Catholic Church teaches that while the benefits of this treasury address eternal sin through Christ’s sacrifice, they do not extend to the temporal consequences entirely—requiring, instead, supplementary acts such as good works or suffering in purgatory. This dichotomy introduces a logical tension. It implies that Christ’s one and only act of redemption is insufficient, thereby necessitating human participation through additional merits. In effect, the teaching straddles a hybrid model of salvation—one that oscillates between the absoluteness of divine grace and the conditionality of human performance—which ultimately undermines the doctrine of imputed righteousness.

          The concept of the treasury of merit has deep historical roots and was used to justify practices such as indulgences—practices that were forcefully repudiated during the Protestant Reformation. Reformers like Martin Luther argued that salvation is a gift of grace, incontrovertibly apart from any human work or intercessory merits. Invoking additional merits not only contradicts this foundational scriptural stance, but also compromises the clarity of the gospel: that grace is a free, complete, and unearned gift.

          Another concern arises from the mediatory role attributed to figures such as Mary and the saints. By elevating their prayers and good works to a status that contributes to the treasury, the church implicitly grants them a salvific function that should belong exclusively to Christ. This elevation not only diminishes the uniqueness and sufficiency of Christ’s mediation but also introduces the risk of a pluralistic system where multiple intercessors dilute the integrity of the singular, redemptive sacrifice of the lamb of God (1 Timothy 2:5).

          When examined in the light of both Scripture and historical reformative insights, the doctrine of the treasury of merit appears both unscriptural and conceptually flawed. If the merits of Christ are indeed infinite and sufficient, there is no logical necessity for additional merits from Mary or the saints, nor for any human effort to supplement what is already complete. This teaching risks undermining the foundational Christian belief that salvation is entirely the result of Christ’s redemptive act—a gift freely given and received by faith.

Manuscript Variants In The New Testament Text

Perhaps you have heard that there are 150,000 to 200,000 variant readings in the New Testament, so how can anyone trust anything it says? This is true but misleading, as the phrase variant reading is a technical term. Each time a manuscript of an ancient work is discovered, its text is compared with some standard printed edition. At each place it differs from the standard, a "variant reading" is recorded. If ten manuscripts differ at the same place from the standard,ten variant readings are recorded. Thus, the more readings which survive for a particular work, the more variant readings it will usually have. Thus our only real concern then is what fraction of the text is debatable.

Professor F.J.A. Hort of Cambridge, in his classic work on New Testament text, notes that seven-eights of the text is accepted by all as preserved just as penned by its original authors. The remaining one-eighth consists largely of matters of spelling and word order, both relatively trivial in ancient Greek. If scholars are correct in their consensus that the Alexandrian family of manuscripts preserves the best text, this area of doubt is reduced to about one-sixtieth of the text, from which Hort estimates that substantial variants make up only about one-one thousandth of the text.16 Other estimates have been made; for instance, Professor Abbot of Harvard suggests that only one-four hundredth of the text is doubtful.17

Detailed statistics on the classical texts are hard to come by. Remember that three of our ten secular histories have not even been preserved over substantial portions of their text. For Homer's Iliad, 750 to 1000 lines are in dispute out of a total of 15,600.18 This makes for about 6 percent disputed material. By contrast, Hort's estimate of "substantial variation" for the New Testament is one-tenth of 1 percent; Abbot's estimate is one-fourth of one percent; and even Hort's figure including trivial variation is less than 2 percent. Sir Frederick Kenyon well summarizes the situation:

"The number of manuscripts of the New Testament...is so large that it is practically certain that the true reading of every doubtful passage is preserved in some one or other of these ancient authorities. This can be said of no other ancient book in the world.

Scholars are satisfied that they possess substantially the true text of the principal Greek and Roman writers whose works have come down to us, of Sophocles, of Thucydides, of Cicero, of Virgil; yet our knowledge depends on a mere handful of manuscripts, whereas the manuscripts of the New Testament are counted by hundreds or even thousands."19

Evidence for Faith: Deciding the God Question, contributor Robert C. Newman, p. 283-284

Church Infallibility Is A Burden For Catholic Apologists

        Roman Catholic apologists routinely object to sola scriptura on the grounds that it results in doctrinal anarchy. It has been claimed by them that an infallible teaching authority is a requirement in order to obtain unity in the church. That may sound like a good and reasonable proposal at first, but the idea itself is also a subtle, yet serious, problem for Catholics.

         If one and only one of Rome's dogmas are refuted by Scripture, logic, or by any other means, then it follows that the entire system falls apart. If the Catholic Church can be shown to not be infallible in teaching, then its claims to authority are not binding on us at all. In that scenario, faithful Roman Catholics would have no choice but to give up Christianity altogether.

        In Protestantism, one has to use Scripture and reason to discern truth from error. The ability to make independent decisions exists, with there being options to choose from. That comes with the advantage of a person being able to change his viewpoints in accordance with available evidence, which is not the end of the world for one because we all make mistakes. It is not an all or nothing scenario.

        If, however, one wishes to defend the Roman Catholic Church's claim to infallibility, then he must be entirely consistent. The idea must be defended at all costs. That would place an excessive apologetic burden on one to believe ideas that are potentially absurd beyond all measure. This framework would make any thinking person susceptible to apostasy from Christianity.

The Old Testament And Doctrine Of Hell

        Throughout history, God has gradually revealed Himself and His truth to humanity. This process of progressive revelation is evident in the Bible, where God's nature and His doctrines become clearer over time. One such doctrine is the concept of hell, which is hinted at in the Old Testament and fully elaborated on in the New Testament.

        In the Old Testament, the Hebrew term "Sheol" is used in various ways. Often, it refers to the grave or the place of the dead, a shadowy existence where all souls go regardless of their moral standing. However, Sheol also carries a more negative connotation, especially in relation to the wicked. For example, Psalm 49:9 mentions Sheol in the context of the fate of the unrighteous, and Isaiah 38:17 speaks of Sheol as a place from which God rescues the righteous.

        Further, the motif of divine judgment is prevalent throughout the Old Testament. The prophets frequently warned of impending judgment and the consequences of sin. This divine judgment was not limited to the afterlife but often included temporal punishments, such as exile, plagues, and destruction. These warnings laid the foundation for the doctrine of hell, presenting a consistent theme of retribution for wickedness and disobedience.

        The New Testament provides a more detailed and explicit understanding of hell, largely through the teachings of Jesus Christ. Jesus often spoke about the reality of hell, using the term "Gehenna" to describe it. Gehenna was originally a valley outside Jerusalem associated with child sacrifice and later a refuse dump where fires constantly burned, making it a vivid metaphor for eternal punishment.

        In Mark 9:47-48, Jesus quotes Isaiah 66:24 to underscore the severity and eternal nature of hell: "where the worms that eat them do not die, and the fire is not quenched." This depiction highlights the continuation and amplification of the Old Testament themes of divine judgment and retribution. Jesus' teachings on hell serve as a stark reminder of the consequences of sin and the urgency of repentance and salvation.

        Jewish literature also contributes to the understanding of hell. The Babylonian Talmud and other Jewish texts provide various insights into the afterlife and divine judgment. They describe categories of people and their fates, with the wicked facing severe punishment.

        For example, according to the Babylonian Talmud (Rosh Hashanah 17a), those who lead others into sin suffer the most severe punishment. Similarly, the Book of Enoch speaks of the joy of the righteous as they witness the punishment of the wicked in hell. These texts illustrate a complex and nuanced view of the afterlife, emphasizing both justice and mercy.

        The Talmudic descriptions offer a vivid portrayal of Gehenna, where the wicked endure various forms of torment. Interestingly, some Jewish teachings suggest that sinners may eventually be purified and released from Gehenna after a period of punishment, reflecting a belief in the possibility of redemption. However, those who have committed particularly grievous sins, such as leading others astray, face eternal punishment.

        The development of the concept of hell reflects a broader understanding of God's justice and mercy. While the Old Testament introduces the idea of divine retribution, it is in the New Testament that the doctrine of hell is fully developed. Jesus' teachings emphasize the reality of eternal punishment for the unrepentant, reinforcing the seriousness of sin and the necessity of seeking God's forgiveness.

On The Reliability Of Oral Tradition And The New Testament Text

Our earliest Christian literature, the letters of Paul, gives us glimpses of the form in which the story of Jesus and his teaching first circulated. That form was evidently an oral tradition, not fluid but fixed, and evidently learned by all Christians when they entered the church. This is why Paul can say, "I myself received from the Lord the account that I passed on to you," I Cor. 11:23. The words "received, passed on" [1] reflect the practice of tradition—the handing-down from one to another of a fixed form of words. How congenial this would be to the Jewish mind a moment's reflection on the Tradition of the Elders will show. The Jews at this very time possessed in Hebrew, unwritten, the scribal interpretation of the Law and in Aramaic a Targum or translation of most or all of their Scriptures. It was a point of pride with them not to commit these to writing but to preserve them

[1] paradidonai = tradere, traditio

unwritten but unaltered.[1] In such circles it would be entirely natural to treat the earliest account of Jesus' deeds and words in just this way. It is to this practice that Paul unmistakably refers, quoting from the Christian tradition our oldest account of the institution of the Lord's Supper, I Cor. 11:24, 25. It will be noted that he speaks of having previously passed this account on to the Corinthians. He speaks in a similar way in I Cor. 15:3-7 of the resurrection accounts which he had communicated to them: "I passed onto you as of first importance, the account I had received."

Acts similarly speaks of "remembering the words of the Lord Jesus," 20:35, and quotes words of Jesus that have never been found in any written gospel. Clement of Rome, in writing to the Corinthians about A.D.95, in two places—13:1 and 46:7, 8—quotes sayings of Jesus not quite like any in our gospels, admonishing his readers in both passages to "remember the words of the Lord Jesus." Polycarp of Smyrna in his letter to the Philippians, about A.D. 107-17, does the same, introducing the quotation with the words, "Remembering what the Lord said," Phil. 2:3. It seems clear that all four are quoting an Oral Gospel.[2]

This is internal evidence. Is there any external evidence,

[1] This attitude is clearly reflected in the story that Gamaliel the First, about A.D. 50, seeing a written copy of an Aramaic translation of Job, immediately had it destroyed. The Targum was not to be written but remembered; cf. Meyer Waxman, History of Jewish Literature (New York, 1930), II, p. 113.

[2] All these writers quote written documents in quite another way: I Cor 7:1; Gal. 3:13; Acts 1:20; I Clem. 47:1, 2; Pol. Phil. 3:2.

any possible reference to such a work, in out earliest Christian writings? It was, of course, the Jewish practice to preserve in oral form the sayings of the great rabbis, as the Pirqe Aboth ("The Sayings of the Fathers") shows. Conditions among the earliest Christians, who thought of Jesus as among other things a "rabbi"—Mark 9:5; 10:51; 11:21; 14:45, etc.—or a "teacher" (twelve times in Mark), favor such a way of preserving his teaching; it would, in fact, have been inevitable; and subsequent quotations seem to show its use, as we have seen. But is there anything that looks like an actual ancient mention of it by name?

In the early years of the second century there lived in Hierapolis, in Asia, a Christian bishop named Papias, who made it his business to interview any Christian of the previous generation who came near and to record these memorabilia in a book, which he called Interpretations of the Lord's Sayings. Though the book existed in convent libraries in Europe until the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, [1] it seems now to have disappeared, except for a few fragments of it quoted by ancient or medieval writers. One of these was Eusebius, who in his famous Church History, finished in A.D. 326, quoted this sentence from Papias:

"So then Matthew composed the Sayings in the Aramaic language and each one translated them as [best] he could."[2]

[1] A. Harnack, Geschichte der altchristlichen Litteratur: Die Ueberlieferung, und der Bestand (Leipzig, 1893), p. 69.

[2] Church History iii. 39, 15.

Edgar J. Goodspeed, An Introduction to the New Testament, p. 126-128

http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/goodspeed/ch10.html

Roman Catholic Religious Iconography Is Irreverent Toward The Biblical God

          According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, images of Jesus Christ, Mary, and various saints serve as a means of veneration rather than objects of worship themselves (CCC # 2132). On the contrary, this rationale encounters significant theological problems, particularly when scrutinized against the fundamental characteristics of God.

          The Prophet Isaiah powerfully illustrates the divide between the divine and created images: "To whom then will you liken God? Or what likeness will you compare to Him?" (Isaiah 40:17-25). Here, Isaiah underscores the futility of attempting to represent the Creator, who occupies an exalted and transcendent position. By suggesting that physical, man-made images can capture or reflect the essence of God, we trivialize His majestic nature. Such comparisons, far from honoring God, undermine His incomprehensible glory by confining Him to the limitations of human creativity. As such, using icons in worship fundamentally misrepresents God's nature.

          Furthermore, the incarnation of Jesus, a significant aspect of Christian theology, does not provide a justification for the veneration of images. While it is true that Jesus took on human form (Colossians 2:9; Hebrews 1:3), this reality does not sanction the creation of physical representations for worship. Indeed, the very act of making an image of Christ, as a mere depiction of His humanity, can detract from the profound mystery of the incarnation. That is about God fully engaging with humanity in a way that transcends physical limits. To relegate the divine to an object of craftsmanship risks reducing Him to mere aesthetics, detracting from the reverence He deserves.

          Historical precedent strongly cautions against the creation of religious images, as evidenced by the significant backlash against idol worship in the Old Testament. The Israelites’ creation of the golden calf (Exodus 32:8) serves as a powerful reminder of God's disapproval of physical representations intended for worship. This incident illustrates the persistent human tendency to seek a tangible form of the divine, which can lead to grievous misunderstandings of God's nature and intentions. Why, then, would we presume that our modern practices would yield a different outcome? The trajectory of biblical history shows that attempts to represent God through images often result in misdirected worship and idolatry.

          Moreover, even if images are intended as reminders or aids for devotion, the risk remains that they could become focal points of worship, leading adherents away from a direct relationship with the living God. The New Testament condemns any form of idolatry, regardless of intention (1 John 5:21). Engaging with images in worship introduces ambiguity regarding the true object of devotion, which must be God alone.

Blasphemy Against The Holy Spirit

        The Jewish anticipation for a Messiah was deeply rooted in their scriptures, with prophecies that painted a vivid image of a savior endowed with divine power. These prophecies, like Isaiah 35:5-6, spoke of miraculous healings and transformative acts that would herald the Messiah's arrival:

        "Then the eyes of the blind will be opened and the ears of the deaf will be unstopped. Then the lame will leap like a deer, and the tongue of the mute will shout for joy. For waters will break forth in the wilderness and streams in the Arabah."

        These verses encapsulate the hope for a new era marked by divine intervention and restoration. However, when Jesus Christ performed such miracles, some Jewish leaders, particularly the Pharisees, responded with skepticism and hostility. They accused Him of deriving His power from demonic sources, as recorded in Matthew 12:24:

        "But when the Pharisees heard this, they said, 'This man casts out demons only by Beelzebul the ruler of the demons.'"

        This accusation was not merely a denial of His miracles, but a profound rejection of His divine identity. According to Christian theology, this deliberate and persistent denial of the Holy Spirit's work through Christ constitutes the unpardonable sin. It reflects a hardened heart that refuses to acknowledge God's manifest truth.

        Today, this specific form of blasphemy cannot be replicated. Jesus is no longer physically present performing miracles. He sits at the right hand of the Father. Therefore, the direct and public rejection of His miraculous works, as witnessed in the first century, is not possible. However, the principle behind the unforgivable sin remains relevant. A person who consistently rejects the Holy Spirit's conviction, remaining in a state of voluntary unbelief until death, commits a sin that, by its very nature, separates them eternally from God. The remedy, as underscored in John 3:16, is repentance and faith in Christ's redemptive work:

        "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life."

Can Astronomy Explain The Biblical Star Of Bethlehem?

"To understand the Star of Bethlehem, we need to think like the three wise men. Motivated by this “star in the east,” they first traveled to Jerusalem and told King Herod the prophecy that a new ruler of the people of Israel would be born. We also need to think like King Herod, who asked the wise men when the star had appeared, because he and his court, apparently, were unaware of any such star in the sky.

These events present us with our first astronomy puzzle of the first Christmas: How could King Herod’s own advisors have been unaware of a star so bright and obvious that it could have led the wise men to Jerusalem?

Next, in order to reach Bethlehem, the wise men had to travel directly south from Jerusalem; somehow that “star in the east” “went before them, ‘til it came and stood over where the young child was.” Now we have our second first-Christmas astronomy puzzle: how can a star “in the east” guide our wise men to the south? The north star guides lost hikers to the north, so shouldn’t a star in the east have led the wise men to the east?

And we have yet a third first-Christmas astronomy puzzle: how does Matthew’s star move “before them,” like the taillights on the snowplow you might follow during a blizzard, and then stop and stand over the manger in Bethlehem, inside of which supposedly lies the infant Jesus?The adoration of the Magi, after they followed that ‘star in the east’ to Jesus.

What could the 'star in the east’ be?

The astronomer in me knows that no star can do these things, nor can a comet, or Jupiter, or a supernova, or a conjunction of planets or any other actual bright object in the nighttime sky. One can claim that Matthew’s words describe a miracle, something beyond the laws of physics. But Matthew chose his words carefully and wrote “star in the east” twice, which suggests that these words hold a specific importance for his readers.

Can we find any other explanation, consistent with Matthew’s words, that doesn’t require that the laws of physics be violated and that has something to do with astronomy? The answer, amazingly, is yes.

Astronomer Michael Molnar points out that “in the east” is a literal translation of the Greek phrase en te anatole, which was a technical term used in Greek mathematical astrology 2,000 years ago. It described, very specifically, a planet that would rise above the eastern horizon just before the sun would appear. Then, just moments after the planet rises, it disappears in the bright glare of the sun in the morning sky. Except for a brief moment, no one can see this “star in the east.”

We need a little bit of astronomy background here. In a human lifetime, virtually all the stars remain fixed in their places; the stars rise and set every night, but they do not move relative to each other. The stars in the Big Dipper appear year after year always in the same place. But the planets, the sun and the moon wander through the fixed stars; in fact, the word “planet” comes from the Greek word for wandering star. Though the planets, sun and moon move along approximately the same path through the background stars, they travel at different speeds, so they often lap each other. When the sun catches up with a planet, we can’t see the planet, but when the sun passes far enough beyond it, the planet reappears.

And now we need a little bit of astrology background. When the planet reappears again for the first time and rises in the morning sky just moments before the sun, for the first time in many months after having been hidden in the sun’s glare for those many months, that moment is known to astrologers as a heliacal rising. A heliacal rising, that special first reappearance of a planet, is what en te anatole referred to in ancient Greek astrology. In particular, the reappearance of a planet like Jupiter was thought by Greek astrologers to be symbolically significant for anyone born on that day.

Thus, the “star in the east” refers to an astronomical event with supposed astrological significance in the context of ancient Greek astrology.Was the star visible just briefly before dawn?

What about the star parked directly above the first crèche? The word usually translated as “stood over” comes from the Greek word epano, which also had an important meaning in ancient astrology. It refers to a particular moment when a planet stops moving and changes apparent direction from westward to eastward motion. This occurs when the Earth, which orbits the sun more quickly than Mars or Jupiter or Saturn, catches up with, or laps, the other planet.

Together, a rare combination of astrological events (the right planet rising before the sun; the sun being in the right constellation of the zodiac; plus a number of other combinations of planetary positions considered important by astrologers) would have suggested to ancient Greek astrologers a regal horoscope and a royal birth.

Molnar believes that the wise men were, in fact, very wise and mathematically adept astrologers. They also knew about the Old Testament prophecy that a new king would be born of the family of David. Most likely, they had been watching the heavens for years, waiting for alignments that would foretell the birth of this king. When they identified a powerful set of astrological portents, they decided the time was right to set out to find the prophesied leader.

If Matthew’s wise men actually undertook a journey to search for a newborn king, the bright star didn’t guide them; it only told them when to set out. And they wouldn’t have found an infant swaddled in a manger. After all, the baby was already eight months old by the time they decoded the astrological message they believed predicted the birth of a future king. The portent began on April 17 of 6 BC (with the heliacal rising of Jupiter that morning, followed, at noon, by its lunar occultation in the constellation Aries) and lasted until December 19 of 6 BC (when Jupiter stopped moving to the west, stood still briefly, and began moving to the east, as compared with the fixed background stars)...

Matthew wrote to convince his readers that Jesus was the prophesied Messiah. Given the astrological clues embedded in his gospel, he must have believed the story of the Star of Bethlehem would be convincing evidence for many in his audience."

https://theconversation.com/can-astronomy-explain-the-biblical-star-of-bethlehem-35126