In defence of doctrine

My article In Defence of Doctrine has just been published in The Briefing - you can purchase on-line as well as hard copies from Matthias Media here.

Love to have your feedback!

Driscoll skewers Sydney

Reports have filtered back to me about Mark Driscoll's session with Sydney ministers at St Andrew's Cathedral. Sounds like potent stuff. Mike Jolly reports here on the 18 points of critique Driscoll levelled at us. Hearing criticism is a great opportunity of course, and it will be interesting to see how the debate goes from here. I don't buy the whole Driscoll schtick, but, boy, he has courage.

From my point of view, the most interesting and telling of the critiques was no. 13: "There us a lack of missiologists. Your theologians are poor missiologists. You need more missiologists that evaluate culture and be missiologically aware."

Ouch. But, yes: I think that it is imperative that theology and missiology relate themselves better. Not of course so that missiology completely overwhelms theology, but so that theology is actually true to its own evangelical nature. There's work to do...

The theological task

Alistair McFadyen (I have been re-reading his work for reasons that will become apparent after September 11 ;-) ) writes this of the theological task:

The theological task...has two poles: to understand and critically reflect upon Christian doctrine, tradition and history on the one hand, and the social, cultural and intellectual world in which we are living on the other. Christian reality is always nbound up with its social world, and that is one very important reason why, even when the theologian is attending to the understanding of faith through its past, theology should always involved critical reflection on the wolrds of which the Church is and has been a part. These are not two tasks but dual elements of a single task... (The Call to Personhood, p. 10-11).

I think this is one way of saying that theology has a missionary calling.

Theology as repentant humility...

Theology is an act of repentant humility…This act exists in the fact that in theology the Church seeks again and again to examine itself critically as it asks itself what it means and implies to be a Church among men…The Church, too, lives under the judgement of God, as does the world. So, it cannot be otherwise but that the Church must critically examine itself, not according to its own wishes and standards but according to the standard which is identical with its basis of existence which is God’s revelation, which, concretely, is the Holy Scriptures. It is this constant and ever-recurring necessity and demand for self-examination of the Church by the standard of the divine Word which is the peculiar function of theology in the Church.

Karl Barth, ‘Theology’ in God in Action (Edinburgh: T.&T. Clark, 1936), pp. 44f

What need is there of theology?

…there is [among Biblical scholars] an unwillingness to accept the existence and the significance of theology as a discipline in its own right. One of several roots of this unwillingness is, perversely, the popular Protestant insistence on sola scriptura. When one has the Bible, what need is there for the subtleties and sophistries of theology?
Francis Watson, Text and Truth, p.4

Well, quite. I don't think it is a good understanding of sola scriptura that leads to this difficulty though...

From Text to Doctrine

In thinking recently about the doctrine of the church I have been led to reflect further on the standard evangelical method of doing theology.


It is not too much of a caricature to say that much evangelical theologising is no different from a Bible Dictionary article. Or, that we are content with what such a dictionary article might say about a word.

So, asked to give an account of 'the doctrine of the church' we fly off to our Greek dictionaries and look for the word 'ekklesia'. How is it used? What does it mean? Or more often: what DOESN'T it mean? By this process we also hope to pick up - and correct - distortions in the tradition.

But of course, the NT usage of the word ekklesia and the Christian doctrine of the Church are two different (though related) things. We have other words, for example, that are used to describe the people of God in the NT (I don't think anyone denies this). What's more, this is not limited to words: we have a number of different texts doing different things that contribute to our knowledge. What's more, I think it is properly evangelical to give consideration to traditional answers to the questions we are asking.

That's not to say that this kind of process of checking how the Bible uses its terms isn't a necessary and useful one: merely that it isn't enough to do theology.

Williams on Wiles II

Williams is not, however, happy with Wiles’ take on the way in which the transforming impact of Jesus is to be described and applied. On Williams’ account (and this is why I say rather cheekily that there is a generational dispute between the two) Wiles comes very close to the profession of a ‘very full-blooded abstract universalist rationalism’.[1] While professing agnosticism about the veracity of Christian truth-claims, in reality his stance is positively skeptical. In other words, Wiles does tend to favour the settling of issues of truth while at the same time he appears to eschew them. Like the more conservative Pannenberg, Wiles assumes for his criticism in practice the standpoint of a universal tribunal in a quasi-legal paradigm. Williams reminds us of the Kantian orgins of the idea of ‘criticism’ in this mode; and of the post-Enlightenment turn against such ‘legal’ universalism. Willaims writes:
To say that there is no universal tribunal, that pluralities of perception cannt be settled by ‘legal action’, is not necessarily to doom ourselves to irrationalist relativism. It is, though, to acknowledge that what is sustainable, what can be asserted without arbitrariness…has more to do with how particular perceptions cope with and absorb contesting claims and maintain elements of critical ‘listening’ provisionality within their own frameworks than with meeting foreordained universal conditions of legality.[2]
For Williams it is axiomatic (he uses the word ‘commonplace’) that neutrality is not available in the assessment of traditional doctrinal statements. The alternative is not, however, hopeless nihilism. Rather, it is the process of ‘coping with’ and ‘absorbing’ the various transitions along the line of Christian tradition that requires attention ­– a process that actually serves to ‘extend and outgrow’ even the pots in which it is planted. That is: one can’t posit beforehand the terms by which the validity of doctrinal statements ought to be judged, not least because these statements themselves exist in a dialectical relationship to the conventions of making sense, and involve, repeatedly over the course of history, the transformation and renewal of theological discourse.
[1] Ibid., p. 260.
[2] Ibid., p. 259.

Williams on Wiles I

Rowan Williams’ contribution to the festschrift for Maurice Wiles[1] sketches out, with characteristic elegance and urbanity, some aspects of shared commitment to a critical approach to the study of the truth and adequacy of doctrinal statements. Though the two theologians were colleagues at Oxford during the 1980s, what becomes readily apparent is that they were of different generations. Wiles, as Williams presents him, was to be thanked for asking the right questions about Christian doctrine ­– inquiring, for example, as to the production and rhetorical purpose of doctrinal statements.[2] Wiles was raising the pertinent problem of how traditional doctrinal statements, concieved as they were in particular historical and intellectual conditions that are nigh on unrecoverable from the contemporary standpoint, might now be received. For Wiles, the propositional truth of the doctrinal formulae was only of secondary interest: he argued that the real focus ought now to be in the ‘experiential impulse’ (Williams’ phrase) that generated them. Doctrinal claims (such as the incarnation) in the patristic era arose rather haphazardly out of a impulse to find an ontological ground for the dramatic experience of the transforming impact of Jesus. Whatever else, Wiles affirms that Jesus does make a difference. The challenge of doctrinal criticism (offered by Wiles, and which Williams accepts) is to ‘read’ this difference, and, furthermore, to read properly the first and subsequent ‘readings’ of him.

[1] Maurice Wiles (d. 2005) was Regius Professor of Divinity at Oxford University from 1970-1991; and was most famous for being a part of the publication in 1977 of The Myth of God Incarnate
[2] ‘…Wiles has succeeded in placing on the map of Anglophone theology a set of issues of the first importance’. Rowan Williams, "Doctrinal Criticism: Some Questions," in The Making and Remaking of Christian Doctrine : Essays in Honour of Maurice Wiles, ed. Sarah Coakley, David A. Pailin, and Maurice F. Wiles (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993), p. 240.

Rowan Williams on Maurice Wiles

Yesterday I went to a cafe and read an essay that Williams wrote in 1993 on his former Oxford colleague Maurice Wiles. In the 1970s, Maurice Wiles made quite a stir by challenging the incarnation, among other orthodox Christian doctrines.

The essay represents an intriguing generational shift, however. Williams is highly critical (in a very polite British way of course!) of Wiles because, in his re-appraisal of Christian doctrines, Wiles applies a kind of Kantian 'abstract universalist rationalism.' Williams, the child of the 60s, and more of a neo- Nietzchean, suspicious of power claims and special interests, wants to question this whole method: why is this rationalism immune from critique? What methods can settle the legitimacy of doctrinal claims? Even though Wiles claims to have recovered a pre-dcotrinal Jesus, he has done so by de-historicising and universalising him. Williams rightly disputes this procedure:

If Jesus is constitutive for Christian language about God and for the present reality of the believer’s relation to God, in such a way that what is said, done, and suffered is strictly unintelligible without continuing reference to Jesus in a more than historically explicatory way, doctrine will be an attempt to do justice to the way in which the narrative and the continuing presence (or presence-in-absence, if you want to nuance it further) of Jesus is held actively to shape present horizons, in judgement and in grace. The disagreement is not over whether doctrinal utterances are or are not to be received uncritically, but over whether any kind of critical method can settle the legitimacy of the distinctively doctrinal enterprise itself as generally conceived by Christians, an enterprise resting as it does on the conviction, variously and often very confusedly articulated in our primary texts, [note the doctrine of scripture here! MJ] that our world of speech and corporate life has been comprehensively remade, so that new conceptualities are brought to birth. Kritik can look hard at those conceptualities, with a wide variety of suspicions; but not all Wiles’s reasoned eloquence should persuade us that it is in a position to disallow the underlying unsettlement of our thought: the question, ‘What is it that is true of Jesus of Nazareth that would make some sense of the Church’s commitment to new imaginings of God and humanity and of the possibility of new relation to God and humanity?’ I believe that this is in fact the question that arises from taking with full seriousness the notion of parable which Wiles finds so attractive – an event which interrupts us and compels us to take up new positions by showing us quite unexpectedly where and what we are in respect of an unforeseen reality set down before us; something more than an extended simile. Wiles is far from insensitive to this priority of krisis over Kritik; but how can his model of doctrinal criticism allow it its proper weight?

The answer is no! See how Williams gets from Ricoeur this idea of parable interrupting and compelling new and unforeseen ideas: and how vague Williams is because he is speaking of what may yet come about in an unpredictable way.

John Webster on philosophical theology

I breathe a sigh of relief when I read John Webster, because he is brave in defying the dominance of philosophical 'theology' with its mystifying speculations and its second-rate dabblings in fields far from the camp... as he puts it:

...the distinctiveness of a trinitarian dogmatics of the holiness of God will shown in its lack of interest in making use of religious phenomenology as a foundation for positive Christian teaching, or in correlating its findings with inquiries into the phenomena - cultural, anthropological and religious - of 'the holy'.

Trinitarian dogmatics will necessarily make ontotheological claims, though in its own particular way. When theology addresses the matter of God's attributes,

it is attempting a rich set of conceptual enlargements upon God's concrete simplicity, the rendition of his identity which God gives as the one who is.

Such a breath of fresh air to read in this city of dreary speculations!

The Holiness of Theology - or otherwise

In a recent discussion with friends, this passage from John Webster's Holiness book came under particular focus:

...talk of the sufficiency of Scripture is a warning against allowing theology's imagination to be enticed into giving attention to all manner of sources of fascination; for however enriching and fruitful they may present themsevles to , in the end they nearly always constitute a distraction. Theology cannot be and do and say everything; when theology does strive to relate itself to all kinds of other fields of intellectual and cultural activity, then - however much it may do so in good faith and with praiseworthy intentions - it risks losing its determincy, integrity and stability as the attempt to hear and repeat the one Word of God. (p. 21)

This comment was debated on the grounds that it allowed no room for prevenient or common grace (depending on whether you were a Wesleyan or a Calvinist!); and conceded far too much to secular disciplines such that it could not call them to account or be informed by them at all. We speculated as to what vices Webster was excoriating. What I think he has in mind is the Tillichian correlation of theology to culture, which of course within a decade becomes no more than a curiosity of history. Personally, I am stirred by Webster's vision here: I think theology's inattentivity to its own singular and decisive source - the Word of God - and its own task leaves it incapable of saying anything credible about these other disciplines in any case. At least I guess Milbank is trying: but I think he leaves far too much space for a philosophy which, like a cuckoo in the nest, soon ejects the true children and grows to become bigger than its 'parents' (see photo...)

The ascension

The exaltation of Jesus to the right hand of the Father is a basic component of the NT preaching of the person and work of Christ. In fact, the gospel declaration – “Jesus is Lord” – is a declaration of Jesus ascended: that the story of Jesus did not finish with his bodily resurrection but is ongoing, for he reigns. The ascension is the counterpart to the incarnation as we see in passages like Philippians 2:5-11. This was a favourite theme of our old friend, Irenaeus (A.H. 3.1, 18.2, 19.3.)


“In biblical terms the ascension involves a real departure of Jesus of Nazareth. That is the basis on which we find ourselves compelled to speak of two histories rather than one. Covenant history and world history have divided in this departure, for in and with Jesus the former has already reached its goal. In the resulting gap a place has opened up for the Eucharistic community as a genuinely new entity within world history, albeit a peculiar one with its peculiar view of the way things are.” (D.Farrow, Ascension and Ecclesia p. 40)




“Doctrinally, then, the Ascension … marks the culmination of the resurrection gospel – the universalizing of Jesus’ relevance to all aspects of human life, individual and global; the present possibility of a share in Jesus’ loving union with his Father, i.e. a life of both trustfulness and authority; the crowning of the purpose of Jesus’ life and death in the restoration of fellowship between heaven and earth. It represents both the call to witness (and to recognize Christ in the world of which he is declared Lord) and the promise of transformed – ‘deified’ – life, as the ground and source of that witness.” (R. Williams, 1983)

And heaven? What is that?

“’Heaven’ in biblical language is the sum of the inaccessible and incomprehensible side of the created world, so that, although it is not God himself, it is the throne of God, the creaturely correspondence to his glory, which is veiled from man, and cannot be disclosed except on his initiative.” (K. Barth, C.D. III/1. 453)

Rowan Williams and Orthodoxy

Of course in thinking about heresy (see previous post), it is worth thinking about what orthodoxy is. Rowan Williams has a very influential view which he established in his book about Arius: that heresy actually arises from the attempt to go further than our talking about God ought to go; that it results from rationalism - any 'attempt to clean up or rearrange Christian language which results in a major reduction of available resources of meaning.' It usually results when theologians value 'conceptual economy and precision over richness of symbolic resource' (as Higton puts it) 'when they make the attempt to tie things down too neatly, to control the various and excessove language of worship and devotion too closely.'

So, orthodoxy for its part is actually a refusal to go further in explaining, a deliberate drawing of the doctrinal circle in a wide rather than a narrow way. It is a victory for poets over bureaucrats: for those who want language that generates new possibilities of meaning over against those that would close them down and specify and deaden. The Nicene formulae (and their later Chalcedonian counterparts) refuse to explain how their may be a Son and Father who are equally God; or a person who is God and man. For Williams, then, the job of doctrine is to teach us silence as well as to circumscribe and guide our speech. Orthodoxy becomes then the steel framework around which Christians in each generation must build and rebuild, with considerable effort and not a little pain.

Now, parts of this vision strike me as problematic and a kind of postmodern retrojection back on the 4th century (he does this, bizarrely in my opinion, with Cranmer as well!) It could easily be caricatured as a very Anglican, very English approach to doctrine - i.e., the English are happy for minimalist view of the role of laws and constitutions because so much of their culture proceeds by convention and agreement. Notably, in the US, the opposite is true: laws and conventions have to do what they say on the packet. Americans (and other colonials!) find the vagueness of the English not liberating but rather frustrating, and a little dishonest (it isn't, but that is how it is perceived). Williams (showing his Hegelian colours) does rather focus on the agonising process of deliberation as an end in itself over against the decision/s of any such debates, too.

BUT: there is also something very appealing about Williams' notion of orthodoxy too. Earlier, for example, in talking about the atonement we struck an attempt to exclude the very old and certainly biblical idea of sacrificial substitution from an orthodox understanding of the atonement; and on the other side, Vanhoozer's warnings about rationalism and reductionism as tendencies in evangelical theological thinking. Both pitfalls are avoided if orthodoxy is practiced as Williams would have us practice it, certainly.

Gerrish on Calvin's Eucharistic Theology

Gerrish's great book Grace and Gratitude is one I have owned for many years and only now begun to read. Oh well...

He gives a terrific account of Calvin's pastoral concern in the Institutes - something he learnt from Erasmus; but that in addition, as his work progressed, he was concerned to show the thematic (if not 'systematic')coherence of his theology. The doctrines are not isolated entities, but mutually conditioning of one another.

Hence Gerrish's study of Calvin's Eucharistic theology is a useful introduction (well, so far!) into Calvin's work as a whole.

What becomes clearer in the final edition of Calvin's Institutes is that the father's liberality and his children's answering gratitude, or lack of it, is not only the theme of the Lord's Supper but a fundamental theme, perhaps the most fundamental theme, of an entire systeme of theology. It conveys, as nothing else can, the heart of Calvin's perception of God, humanity, and the harmony between them that was lost by Adam and restored by Christ...Piety and its renewal as faith in Christ - that is the subject of Calvin's pietatis summa. The holy banquet is simply the liturgical enactment of the them of grace and gratitude that lies at the heart of Calvin's entire theology... (p. 20).

Pierced for our transgressions

In response to some very silly books attacking Penal Substitutionary Atonement, including those by Steve Chalke and Joel Green, the Oak Hill trio of Mike Ovey, Andrew Sach and Steve Jeffrey have produced a book I am looking forward very much to reading: Pierced for our Transgressions - Rediscovering the Glory of Penal Substitutionary Atonement.

The table of contents looks fascinating: they give exhaustive answer to the many objections raised against PSA. Their account of the heritage of the doctrine is very interesting: the attacks on it have tried to relativise it by making it a product of particular medieval or renaissance conditions. (I would also say that particular conditions of modernity and the way in which we deal with criminality in our culture - ironically because of our Christian heritage - have lead to the doctrine being seen as distasteful and immoral: Foucault's Discipline and Punish is fascinating as an account for the genealogy of punishment in Western liberal society.)

However: there is a tendency in evangelicalism to make the doctrine under attack loom larger than it ought, or to make it the sine qua non of the preaching of the gospel. (PSA is not the gospel, though it is (I believe) a glorious doctrine explaining how exactly the gospel is good news.) This leads in practice to a trotting out of PSA formulae at every point, even when it isn't warranted by the text.
As
K.J. Vanhoozer writes (and his evangelical credentials are sound!):

the economy of covenantal grace is not exhausted by the logic of penal substitution even though the latter has a legitimate place.

Rowan Williams on speaking parabolically

In an essay entitled 'The Judgement of the World' Rowan Williams proposes the intriguing idea of parabolic speech as a catalyst for a new kind of life: for conversion. The parables that Jesus told have the capacity to tranform people's perceptions: of themselves and of their communities. And indeed, his own life was a larger parable of the gospel of challenge and transformation. Jesus' telling of parables and teaching his disciples how to receive them is a preparation for us of the pattern of loss and recovery of the self that we will see in his death and resurrection story.

He goes on:

The transfiguring of the world in Christ can seem partial or marginal if we have not learned, by speaking and hearing parables, a willingness to lose th eidentities and perceptions we make for ourselves: all good stories change us if we hear them attentively; the most serious stories change us radically....And if we can accept a very general definition of parable as a narrative both dealing with and requiring 'conversion', radical loss and radical novelty, it may not be too far-fetched to say that the task of theology is the exploration of parable, and so of conversion.

Calvin and the Calvinists?

For me, an intriguing question still persisting in historical theology relates to the relation between John Calvin and those Reformed thinkers that followed in his wake. The classic Barthian-influenced account, repeated many times, is that Calvin - as the normative Reformed theologian - represented a genuine break in content AND method from the medieval scholastic theologians. Calvin for his part was committed both to biblicism and to not speculating.Later scholars returned to the things he had repudiated, distorting and unbalancing Calvin-ism from then on. Basil Hall's landmark article in this and other ways set 'Calvin against the Calvinists'.

Richard Muller supported by Carl Trueman in recent years have returned fire. As Trueman writes:

The account of the development of Reformed theology which this definition of scholasticism promotes is one whereby the pristine, non-metaphysical, exegetical theology of Calvin is slowly replaced by a speculative, metaphysical, overly-rational, and hair-splitting dogmatism, as represented by later theologians such as Voetius, Turretin, and John Owen.

I myself have believed and passed this on: and especially the more Barthian thinkers will assume this narrative. Trueman's argument in response is that 1) Calvin isn't the normative figure everyone assumes - rather the great Reformed confessions hold that place; 2) the name 'Calvinism' is actually unhelpful and polemical; 3) we need to look to the occassion and nature of each of the texts under question to fairly evaluate them. 4) Scholasticism as a method (the use of syllogisms and so on) has had a bad press and in fact was just the pedagogical method available for working in the university of the time; 5) Aristotelian metaphysics and rationality were used by everybody because this was the rationality of the day: it is not in itself proof of distortion...

I am not yet convinced. I heed the warning about the complexity of the historical picture and the breadth of Reformed dogmatic theology. However, when we read Calvin we are breathing a different air from that we later breathe. Calvin's humanist background gave him a pedagogical method and style altogether different from the Paris of his youth. It was not an accident that this style liberated him as a theologian. In the Institutes he is quite polemical about exactly the vices you find displayed in the later Protestant Orthodox, because that method and style had produced such skewed results in the past...

Rahner on doctrinal boundaries

In the light of the Anglican Communion's drawing of a line in the doctrinal/ethical sand - well, kind of - I was interested to read this from our old friend Karl Rahner:

...a church cannot be a church if it would never have the courage to declare something anathema, if it could tolerate absolutely everything and anything as an equally justified opinion among Christians. (p. 382 Foundations of Christian Faith)

However: has there ever been such a church? Even the ultra-liberal revisionists have anathemas. They are forced to show where and who they would definitely exclude in order to meet precisely this criteria.

Immediately we have to ask about specifics. What are the core and basic truths? What are the negotiables? Rahner won't admit, as he goes on, that the dogmatic propositions of the faith are so easily detatchable from one another. They have a structure, which may be dislocated if even a small part is changed.

One Faith – JI Packer and Thomas C. Oden

Evangelicals seem to be great squabblers. They divide over all sorts of issues: from creationism to the millennium and all the bits in between, it seems. The word “evangelical” itself seems particularly rubbery, implying “fundamentalism” to some, “charismatic” to others, referring to a liturgical style at one point or to a right-wing social programme at another. It can appear that to be an evangelical is to live in a lonely world. What I mean is: there just aren’t that many amillennial paedobaptist four-point Calvinist theistic-evolutionist episcopalian congregationalist non-charismatic complementarians out there...[and if you are out there, could you please give me a call?]

The thesis of One Faith-the Evangelical Consensus by J.I. Packer and Thomas C. Oden is that a comparison of statements of faith from across the evangelical world in fact reveals a remarkable consensus of belief. The evangelical movement, much derided in some quarters as an aberration or a dinosaur, is in fact a growing cohesive global entity. The creeds compared show that this unity is founded on an orthodox doctrine of God in three persons, and on the evangelical distinctives of the authority of scripture, the necessity of the atoning blood of Christ for the forgiveness of sins, justification by grace through faith alone, the work of the holy spirit in conversion and the hope of Christ’s return.

After an interesting introduction, the bulk of the book is a list of creeds garnered from evangelical organizations world-wide and compared on various topics. It isn’t exactly a scintillating read, I have to say, and never quite rises to the dizzying heights its editors promise. The worth of the book is more as a reference with an essay attached. Disappointingly, while doctrinal statements from Canada, Belgium, Japan and South America are used, not one Australian statement made it into the lists. Left off again!

The listing of the extracts from the statements offers, however, heart-warming evidence that evangelicalism is a vibrant world-wide movement with a remarkable consensus of belief shared by its adherents - despite denominational, national, linguistic and other differences. Our theological views cannot be dismissed as eccentric, novel or aberrant; in fact, they are biblically and historically grounded and intellectually robust.

The section on “the People of God” reveals very little on church order and sacraments – it is characteristic of evangelicalism that matters ecclesiological are held to be second-order. The evidence presented in this book proves that evangelicals have always sought to work across denominational boundaries and are still seeking to do so without waiting for merely bureaucratic solutions. Here is indeed a true ecumenism. I was encouraged to remember that true agreement on the great truths of the faith is widespread.

However, I wonder whether the book concealed some of the deep differences among evangelicals, too. While the section on scripture contained some very strong affirmations of the authority and inerrancy of the Bible it is clear that this is worked out in vastly different ways among people who would own the name “evangelical”. Evangelical scholars need to continue to work hard at clarifying their doctrine of scripture. The section on “the Last Things”, also papered over some very wide cracks...

Rahner comments on verbal inspiration

I was intrigued to find sections in Rahner's book Foundations which support the inspiration and inerrancy of Scripture as doctrines of the Catholic church.

Rahner makes a telling comment I think about Protestant doctrines of scripture:

...the old Reformation doctrine of scripture alone, which was necessarily and intrinsically connected with the notion of a verbal inspiration of scripture, is untenable from a historical point of view, nor is it taught any longer in contemporary Evangelical (ie Lutheran) theology...Only when scripture is understood as the one and only product which comes immediately from God independently of any historical and very differentiated process of becoming can I ascribe to scripure an authority which makes it completely independent of the living testimony of the church. But basically, one cannot abandon the principle of an absolute verbal inspiration of scripture, as in fact has happened, and still maintain the principle of scripture alone in the sense which it had in the time of the Reformation.... p. 362

I think this is quite perceptive. Verbal inspiration is quite a costly doctrine to jettison if you are trying to hold to a principle of scripture alone...