Urban Puritano • July 15, 2022

A Confessional Calvinist Approach to Biblical Interpretation: Butchers, Biblicists, or Bereans? Part 2

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How NOT to Butcher the Bible


       A Confessional Calvinist is many things. However, as one grows in conscientiousness and intentionality concerning their reading of Scripture, they certainly strive to eschew butchering the Text. They also strive to eschew ill-defined Biblicism. Perhaps biblicism is a naive view or approach to Scripture that seeks to explain Scripture without the help of external categories or resources. I don’t know. Some ill-define it one way, others ill-define it another way. Biblicism is a popular pejorative term among academically oriented interpreters of the Bible and their all too eager seminarian whipper snapper acolytes. But as was stated in the last installment, there is growth in a believer’s understanding of the interpretive task. Thankfully, the third option is a Biblical one: Berean believers!

         The Berean believers attended the voice of God in Scripture and confirmed the validity of the Apostle Paul’s conclusions by means of Scripture. In doing so, they merited the commendation of being noble or fair minded in searching the Scriptures daily to find out if the things Paul preached and taught were so. No need for confessional pearl clutching. We can do the same since we all have the same starting place.
 
The Bible: Our Starting Place

        The Bible is an extraordinarily normal, worldly book. Its familiarity and similarity to other world literature is undeniable. At the same time, it is an extraordinarily unique and supernatural book. Despite being written by over 40 authors over a 1500 year period, covering historical events in methodical, logical progression from diverse cultural viewpoints, the Scriptures consistently tell us about God and ourselves. Cornelius Van Til correctly observed that for the faithful reader, “sacred history becomes terrible and beautiful. It grips one in the inmost depths of his existence. There is no epic so sweeping, no drama so dramatic as the story of sacred history…”


        The Bible is also an other-worldly revelation. Its transcendent character and content is undeniable as well. Sacred Scripture reveals the God of whom it speaks and His Word’s universal applicability to man’s existence by revealing his true nature and plight. Throughout its diverse pages, its unity in message is sufficiently perceived, resulting in either humble embrace or judgmental rejection. The Bible reads the reader and demands response! 
   

         This is the revelation that will not be content merely being one among many. It unravels the reader while the reader wrestles with and attempts to unravel it. “Terrible and beautiful” indeed! 
 

         “Terrible” in the sense of knowing the weightiness of the subject matter. The Scriptures deal with no light matters. What or who is the God of whom it speaks? What or who is Man to whom it speaks? How can an utterly just and holy God commune with utterly sinful and rebellious people? Trembling is the appropriate response.
 

        “Beautiful” in the sense of the comfort proffered in His Word which details God’s gracious intention to ultimately display His refulgent radiance in His redemptive work and commune with His people. This is love in its ultimate possible expression. Not our love towards God, but the other way around. Omnipotent, immeasurable, undeserving love towards us made our salvation both possible and actual! In His Word, we find the only comfort in life and death, symmetry, vibrancy, every brush stroke, all the pieces to the puzzle, all the threads on the tapestry,  every note in the musical score, and every square inch of creation, providence, and redemption redound to His glory and, graciously, to our good. 
 

         This is nothing less than the posture of Confessional Calvinism.

 
Underlying Assumptions and Starting Points


         Where can the interpreter begin? No doubt, all interpreters begin somewhere and although there is an “interplay between broader principles of interpretation and particular texts” (Seeing Christ in All of Scripture, pg. 9), it would be fruitful to briefly delineate some of those assumed hermeneutical principles that underlie our interpretation of particular texts.
 

         Thus, the following underlying, general hermeneutical assumptions are a good place to start with before we concentrate our focus further. Some were previously alluded to. Now, they all will be expanded upon slightly and throughout the rest of this and future posts. The underlying, general hermeneutical assumptions are as interlocking links in a chain:


  • The Verbal and Plenary Inspiration of Scripture
  • The Perspicuity of Scripture
  • The Analogy of Scripture & the Analogy of Faith
  • The Unity and Diversity of Scripture

  1. The Verbal and Plenary Inspiration of Scripture


       The verbal and plenary inspiration of Scripture refers to the Scriptures being the product of God causing the various Biblical authors to write down everything exactly as He intended. This includes not only the big ideas or major portions of Scripture. This divine causation extends to the whole, inclusive of every word itself. Furthermore, this divine inspiration was neither mechanical nor in any way subversive of human authorship whatsoever. Whatever human effort was involved in the prewriting process and whatever style the authors employed in the writing process itself, God ensured by this divine inspiration that His thoughts and the writers’ thoughts interpenetrated such that a bona fide communication from God to His people was recorded by various authors exactly as He intended.


     The presupposition of the verbal and plenary inspiration of Scripture, like all the other underlying hermeneutical assumptions we will adduce, is not simply postulated by theological imposition. It emerges quite naturally from passages such as 2 Tim. 3:16, 2 Pet. 1:19-21, and 1 Cor. 2:7-13, among many other Biblical texts throughout Scripture. For further study, Louis Gaussen’s
Theopneustia and B.B. Warfield’s Inspiration and Authority of the Bible are recommended. Also, Greg Beale’s more recent Erosion of Inerrancy.


           Before moving on, I would be remiss in my Reformed duty if I failed to point out that this classical evangelical view of the verbal and plenary inspiration of Scripture is actually a major illustration and example of the Calvinistic understanding of concurrence between the will of God and the will of man. If divine causation results in man willfully writing down exactly what God intends (e.g., the writing of Scripture), is there any other area in which divine causation results in man willing something or other precisely as God intends? (Calvinists, mischievously or not, answer, yes).


          Let the careless reader beware if he comes to the Biblical text presupposing by default the concept of libertarian free-will, the principle of alternative possibilities (especially for genuine love to exist), or the pop-arminian notion that God is a “gentleman” who must always respect autonomous human choice in order to be able to hold us responsible for our actions. Sooner rather than later, the reader will collide with texts that are incompatible with such deeply erroneous notions. Neither the Biblical authors, much less the Biblical God, conform to the false assumptions bound up with libertarian free-will.


2
. The Perspecuity of Scripture


         The perspicuity of Scripture refers to the basic quality of clarity the Scriptures exhibit as a whole, but especially in regards to the question, “What must I do to be saved?” The Westminster Confession of Faith is most excellent in  this regard. Chapter 1, section VII of the WCF states:

“All things in Scripture are not alike plain in themselves, nor alike clear unto all, yet those things which are necessary to be known, believed and observed, for salvation, are so clearly propounded and opened in some place of Scripture or other, that not only the learned, but the unlearned, in due use of the ordinary means, may attain unto a sufficient understanding of them.”


 
By What Means?


          As R.C. Sproul aptly put it, “Biblical Christianity is not an esoteric religion” (Knowing Scripture, p. 16). The means of Biblical interpretation do not involve mysterious practices yielding mysterious meanings. There is no meaning in Scripture other than what the “due use of the ordinary means” will yield. Therefore, our fundamental concern is to remain so close to the text that only what is “expressly” (explicitly) written in Scripture or what “by good and necessary consequence may be deduced” from Scripture is privileged (WCF I, sec. VI  ).


          This interpretive guardrail is both rational and Biblical. It is
Berean! Remember, Biblical interpretation is attending to the voice of God present in Scripture. The burden of the believer is to rightly understand the words of Scripture, the communicative intent of both the Divine and human authors, and what can rightly follow from what is expressed and how it is expressed. A wonderful example of this Berean approach on display in a theological debate on a Biblical topic was when Dr. Joseph Pipa masterfully gave a reasoned defense for Limited Atonement and successfully attacked Dave Hunt's Unlimited Atonement view. Dr. Pipa did not clutch his confessional pearls, but he adduced Scripture and rightly divided the Word of Truth to be persuasive so that the confidence of everyone present could be in Sola Scriptura. To adduce Scripture and give the meaning through analysis and synthesis is not a naive stacking of verses. Who would be so arrogant or disingenuous as to ascribe solo or nuda scriptura to an Apollos-like defense of Biblical doctrine given by Dr. Pipa or any simple believer for that matter?


         The perspicuity of Scripture recognizes that some portions or texts of Scripture may not easily yield their meaning and may be difficult to understand. As mentioned earlier, the Apostle Peter said as much concerning some of the Apostle Paul’s writings that are among portions of Scripture (2 Pet. 3:15-16). But the solution to a charley horse between the ears is, as Gordon Clark would say, “a rational massage.” The perspicuity of Scripture, thus, does not demand that the meaning of Scripture “always lie on the surface” (Berkhof, Principles of, p.59). There is, after all, the legitimacy, if not the inevitability and indispensability, of logical implications in communication that the Scriptures themselves are not exempt from. What believer would argue against God’s Word having logical depth?


          This logical depth, however, is not something beyond the words of Scripture rightly understood. This is key. “Beyond” the words of Scripture cannot mean distinct or separate from the communicative intent revealed by the words themselves and their relationship with other words and portions of Scriptures. No text of Scripture is an island unto itself. This is, ultimately, because of Divine design.


       
Interpretations must always have a rational rationale. The whole enterprise of Biblical hermeneutics and exegesis is essentially a rational method applied to a rational revelation. Together, they are an artful science seeking to rationally and judiciously arrive at the correct meaning of the Biblical text. Its foundations, principles, methods are thoroughly rational and coherent within themselves and with Scripture.


By Whom?


         “The Bible,” Gordon Clark correctly notes,  “has a message intended to be understood.” By whom? By a select group of elite academicians, scholars, gurus, or clerics? By only a special class of people who alone are tasked with its interpretation and who are to dole out its meaning to the masses? Gordon Clark, in standard Protestant form, matter of factly states the
Reformation’s Dangerous Idea: “The Bible was addressed to the populace at large — the working men and slaves as well as to kings and those in authority.” 


          This does not preclude other individuals, the academy, or a community of faith from being of help to a person struggling with the correct interpretation of a Biblical text. This does not preclude interpretive tradition from being of help either. Tradition can be a friend. Remember, the Bible is of such a nature that if any contemporary believer arrives at a correct interpretation of a text’s meaning, especially regarding God and salvation, it was surely known and believed by the Church in the past. God’s Word is perspicuous to God's people. The perspicuity of Scripture simply recognizes that correct interpretation is within everyone’s reach and not dependent on a special class of official interpreters or only those who tap into tradition.


         Very pointedly, Clark drives the point home: “If you and I are so stupid as not to be able to understand the Bible, but need priests, bishops, and popes [or tradition, however great it may be] to tell us what it means, are we not also too stupid to understand what [they] say?” 


         Thankfully, and by grace alone, the Scripture’s content and overarching storyline composed of myriad “stories, examples, precepts, exhortations, admonitions, and promises” concerning God’s redemptive purpose and man’s salvation is sufficiently “clear and evident” (Ames, Marrow, pgs. 187-188). Both scholar and layman can, by the same means, arrive at the answer to how a holy and just God can bless rebellious, sinful mankind with salvation. 

       As it was before for shepherds, warriors, royalty, and fisherman; as it continued to be for monks, maidens, lawyers, and tinkers; so the Bible’s message continues to be now — sufficiently “clear and evident” to all who would apply “a due use of the ordinary means.” 



To be continued...For more on Calvinistic Hermeneutics, please listen to Episode 5 of Urban Puritano!



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By Urban Puritano August 23, 2026
The author of What Is a Reformed Baptist? gives baptism four senses — but the engine is allegory's, and his own confession already ruled on it. Tom Hicks — a confessional Reformed Baptist pastor whose very handle, @TomHicks2LCF, flies the Second London flag — recently offered on X what he weirdly called "the fourfold sense of Christian baptism." Four numbered senses, each pinned to a medieval label: immersion as a sign of union with Christ (literal); a sign of Christ's death and resurrection (allegorical); a sign of the believer's death to self and new life (tropological); a sign of the believer's passing from this world into the next (anagogical). Patrick Schreiner — author of The Four Senses of Scripture, the most prominent recent case for recovering the quadriga — welcomed it: a smile emoji and a "thank you" GIF. The gesture is light. It is also telling, and it is why this small thread from X repays a longer look. The author of the retrieval's flagship book has just cheered the fourfold method as it steps off the page. What was a claim about how biblical texts mean is now applied, with the movement's blessing, to how a sacrament means. I want to be careful not to pay this the wrong compliment. One could call the post creative and mean it warmly. It seems as if many confessional Reformed Baptists do. But the creativity is the whole problem, not a mitigating grace. A hermeneutic is a discipline: it constrains what a thing may be taken to mean and tells you when you have gone wrong. A heuristic is a generator: it prompts you to produce, and it never runs dry. The fourfold scheme, turned on baptism, constrains nothing. It generates — four slots, and an invitation to fill them. That a godly and able pastor can fill them so readily is not evidence the method works; it is evidence of what the method is. A scheme that can find its four senses in a text, in an ordinance, in a hymn, in a handshake, is not discovering four senses in any of them. It is running its apparatus, which will always yield four, because yielding four is what it was built to do. Not a bug — the feature. There is a name for the faculty at work. Pareidolia is the mind's readiness to see a face where there is only cloud; apophenia, its broader cousin, is the readiness to see connection where nothing is in fact connected. The quadriga laid over a sacrament is apophenia in its Sunday clothes — the familiar fourfold silhouette projected onto a subject that never asked for it. Baptism is not a text with a literal sense and three spiritual ones stacked above it. It is one sign, and it signifies richly: union, death and resurrection, new life, the hope of glory — all of it whole and undivided in a single thick redemptive-historical reading of the texts that give it (Rom. 6:3–5; Col. 2:12; 1 Pet. 3:21). Sorting that one meaning into four medieval bins does not enrich the meaning. It multiplies the bins. And then the thread did the argument's work for it. A reader, Mark Harrelson, noticed a gap: "5. For remission of sins. You missed that one." The fourfold scheme had left out something the Nicene Creed itself confesses of baptism — and a fifth item is an awkward thing to hand a fourfold sense. Hicks's answer has real theological content, and none of it is wrong: Christ procures remission at the cross, faith is the hand that receives it, and baptism asserts and confirms it to the believer. Hold that sacramentology; it is sound. Then watch what the method makes him do with it. Remission, he said, is "contained in the allegorical sense." The four senses did not produce remission; challenged, they absorbed it, folding a fifth doctrine into a slot already holding another. That is not a fourfold reading yielding its riches. It is an elastic container stretching to swallow whatever the objection supplies. If the allegorical sense can take on remission after the fact — remission, which has no quarrel with the "death and resurrection" already sitting in that bin — then the "senses" are not distinct compartments of meaning the sacrament yields. They are labels roomy enough to relabel. Press them and they expand; and a scheme that expands on demand has stopped dividing anything at all. Remission was never a missing fifth sense. It was already inside the one meaning of baptism, exactly where union and new life and hope already were. The category error is the surface. The deeper problem is confessional — and here the irony turns tragic. And the tragedy is only multiplied by however many Reformed Baptists it influences to downplay or contradict the this foundational confessional hermeneutic. Hicks is no bystander to the Second London; he wrote the book on it. In What Is a Reformed Baptist? he argues that Reformed Baptist identity is confessional identity — that to be a faithful Reformed Baptist is to hold the historic confessions, and the Second London above all. The man who taught a generation that being Reformed Baptist means holding this confession has now read baptism in a way the confession forecloses. He cannot wave the objection off, because it is his own standard, in his own book, that raises it. The Second London, with Westminster, declares that the true and full sense of any Scripture "is not manifold, but one." Those four words do logical work. "Not manifold" is a denial — not a ranking, not a subordination, but a denial — of multiple senses as such. It denies the genus. And the quadriga, a theory of four senses, is the most prominent species of that genus. The denial of a genus necessarily contains the denial of its species: deny that Scripture's sense is manifold, and you have denied, in the same breath, the fourfold scheme that is manifoldness's flagship. To confess 1.9 is to have already declined the quadriga — and having declined it for texts, one has declined it for whatever else the fourfold silhouette gets projected onto next. This is no novel reading of the phrase. It is the plain force of "not manifold," and it is how the confessional tradition treated the question. Tyndale, Perkins, Whitaker, Leigh, and Turretin did not say the spiritual senses must be kept subordinate to the literal. They said Scripture has one sense. The men who wrote "not manifold, but one" were denying multiplicity, not tidying it into a hierarchy. The confession does not only deny; it directs. Having called the true and full sense "not manifold, but one," the same paragraph says how the one sense is found: it "must be searched and known by other places that speak more clearly" — Scripture set beside Scripture, read under the analogy of faith. That is the confessional method for establishing a doctrine's full meaning, baptism included: not four bins to be filled, but the gathering of every text that bears on the sign into one coherent teaching. Remission belongs to the doctrine of baptism not because it can be tucked into an allegorical slot, but because Scripture, searched and known — Acts 2:38 beside Romans 6, and the creed's "one baptism for the remission of sins" — teaches it as part of the one thing baptism signifies. The analogy of faith is intertextual, not fourfold. What was offered under the name of depth is a medieval grid standing in for the confession's own method — and standing in for it poorly, since the grid had no slot for remission until someone pointed out the lack. There is a stock reply that this is simply not what the Confession means. But asserting that "not manifold, but one" leaves room for other distinct senses is not an argument; it is the very thing to be shown, and it owes three unpaid debts: an alternative reading of the actual words "not manifold, but one"; historical evidence that the framers meant to leave a door open for distinct senses; and some account of the genus–species relation on which a man may deny multiple senses and keep four of them. Until those are produced, the four words stand. So — allegorist? Not by conviction. Despite recommending allegory to frame a spiritual sense for the doctrine of baptism, Hicks would reject the label, and the confession he wrote a book to commend rejects it for him. The charge was never that he holds allegory's creed. It is that he has borrowed allegory's engine and set it running against the very standard he taught the churches to keep. The soft retrieval of the quadriga keeps arriving at the same wall, and it arrives now in a new field. Whether the fourfold sense is offered for a passage or for the ordinance of baptism, the confessional verdict does not move. The waters are rich — rich with union, death, resurrection, new life, remission, and the hope of passing through the last judgment into glory. But that is the fullness of one sense, not the sum of four. There is a leaven here, and it is spreading. The manifold sense of Scripture, long resisted among Baptists, has unfortunately found a welcome among some Reformed Baptist pastors and seminary professors — and now it has jumped the tracks a second time, from the senses of a text to the senses of a doctrine. A fourfold sense of baptism today; a fourfold sense of the Supper, the church, the covenants tomorrow. Each step is greeted as recovery, as depth. But none of it is the confessional framing of the analogy of faith, and a little leaven leavens the whole lump. What spreads here is not a retrieval. It is a grid mistaken for a method, and a fad mistaken for a tradition. It may be someone's tradition. But not ours. Heuristic, not hermeneutic. Not manifold, but one. We distinguish. POST SCRIPT... Pastor Tom kindly unblocked me and replied to my X article: "Thank you for the post and the generous interaction. Allegory in the medieval usage was often severed from the meaning of the text and generated fresh meaning independent of the what the Word of God actually said. When the Reformers opposed allegory, that is what they opposed. But at other times, the Reformers employed allegory, but only when it was anchored in the one meaning of the text. Benjamin Keach was a faithful English Particular Baptist pastor who signed the Second London Confession of Faith. He wrote a massive interpretive tome titled Tropologia in which he proceeded to open the allegorical/typological, metaphorical, and tropological senses of Scripture. You can research it using AI and Google. He did not believe the one sense of Scripture is limited to the literal sense but expanded to typology and allegory and tropology. The same method of interpretation is evident from the preaching of Charles Spurgeon (often maligned by literalists). But these Reformed Baptist brethren didn't see any conflict with our venerable confession because there isn't any. It is found throughout our Reformed and Particular Baptist heritage. Tolle lege. The procedure of looking for the meaning of the text, how it points to Christ, how to apply it, and how it gives us hope for the future, arises from studying the way that Jesus and the apostles themselves studied the Bible. While I don't have space to work it out fully here, consider just one example from the author of Hebrews which is Paul, in case you were wondering. :) See Hebrews 12:5-6 and the manner in which the preacher handles the biblical interpretation of Prov 3:11-12. Context shows a fourfold sense. First, there is the plain sense. This is the truth that God trains or disciplines His sons. Second, there is the Christ-centered sense. God led Christ to the cross (Heb 12:2), and Christ learned obedience through suffering (Heb 5:8). He did this for us as our substitute and example. Third, there is the applied sense. God loves us, Christ teaches us how to suffer in love; therefore, in light of Christ, we can embrace suffering and persevere in love without becoming weary or fainthearted, knowing we are being made like Christ (Heb 12:11). Fourth, there is the final or heavenly sense. The goal of our training in sanctification is ultimately to see the Lord (Heb 12:14). Many other such examples of the Bible's interpretation of the Bible in this way could be shown. There is only one sense of the text. But that one sense is often though not always multilayered with many necessary implications." To which I replied: "Appreciate you for unblocking me to exchange replies. While some people decry this app, i find you get what you invest in it. Your input is greatly appreciated. I understand you may write more wherever you choose is best. My good faith yet pointed response will be a short list of where I consider you unhelpfully and sloppily blurring the lines logically, biblically, and confessionally: The first and most obvious: the 4fold sense as a tool for reading texts, versus interpreting a doctrine (e.g., baptism). A figure of speech, versus a second sense. Typology, versus invented allegory. Preaching a text, versus interpreting a text. Rejecting a method’s abuses, versus rejecting the method; illicit to overlay even the quadriga’s structure on our confession. And a big one: the implications of one meaning, versus four different senses or meanings." Please, stay tuned and be on the lookout for an episode of the Urban Puritano Podcast for a discussion of these issues.
By Roberto Gazga August 9, 2026
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By Urban Puritano August 8, 2026
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