Urban Puritano • July 29, 2022

A Confessional Calvinist Approach to Biblical Interpretation: Butchers, Biblicists, or Bereans? Part 4

This is a subtitle for your new post

The Unity and Diversity of Scripture


      The fourth and final interlocking link in the chain of foundational hermeneutical assumptions is the
Unity and Diversity of Holy Writ. The Bible is not, despite what unbelievers say, a mishmash of contradictory fables. Definite unity is rightly perceptible throughout its diverse pages. 


      There is a discernible cohesion in the midst of the diverse texts within Scripture. In fact, what emerges for the responsible interpreter as he applies “a due use of the ordinary means” to the Bible is what the Westminster Confession says is “ the consent of all the parts” (WCF, Chap. 1, sec. 5).


Chronological Analysis and Logical Synthesis


 
    There are two ways we can apprehend the unity and diversity of Scripture. One way is through the history of redemption. The other way is through systematic theology. The former, also known as Biblical Theology, focuses on the chronological unfolding of God’s revelation to His people in history. The latter, Systematic Theology, focuses on the logical ordering of revelation into a system of doctrines. 


 
    These work together as bifocal lenses allowing the interpreter to appreciate both the redemptive historical forest and the systematic theological trees. Neither at the expense of the other. In fact, roughly speaking, Biblical Theology traverses the History of Redemption via the Analogy of Scripture while Systematic Theology views each of the parts of Scripture via “the general tenor of God’s Word” according to the “Analogy of [the orthodox] Faith (as Benjamin Keach stated in in his helpful work called Tropologia).


    The present series of blog posts can only scratch the surface concerning the organic unity found within the diversity of God’s Word. Consider the history of redemption. Scripture wonderfully and dramatically displays its organic and progressive unfolding, much like the planted bulb emerges from the ground as a growing bud and in the fullness of time blossoms into a beautiful tulip!
The tulip can no more disparage the bulb than systematic theology can disparage biblical theology. Or vice-versa.


Christ-ward Because Christ-centered


      To use another figurative illustration, “[all] the books of the Bible have their binding center in Jesus Christ. They all relate to the work of redemption and the founding of God’s kingdom on earth” (Berkof, Principles, p.53). Thus, just as the pages of your Bible make contact with and are held together at the spine with adhesive or by being sewn, so
Christ-centered “Meaning” permeates and holds together the Christ-ward “meanings” throughout the pages of God’s Word no matter where you turn the page.


      In fact, according to our Lord and Savior Himself, the Old Testament set the stage, book by book, epoch by epoch, covenant by covenant, and promise by promise to point forward in some way, shape, or form to the Savior’s glorious work of redemption for His people.
See Luke 24:25-27; vv. 44-47; Acts 3:18, 21, 24; 17:2-3; 26:22b-23; 1 Pet. 1:10-11 to start.


   The Old Testament was not a Christless revelation. Quite the contrary. By means of definite plot points, messianic prophecies, figures, types, shadows, and other details we can rightly understand God drawing His people’s gaze unavoidably to Christ as powerfully in the OT as the NT. As Mark Garcia has stated, the text of Scripture, including the Old Testament,  is “drawing us by the gravitational pull of Christ Himself into the world given to us in Christ to live in that world, to metabolize these words which are bread of life to us, to draw us deeper into faith, hope, and love.”
The Old Testament is nothing, if not,  the Christ-centered preparation for the Christological fullness of the New Testament. 


     The New Testament is nothing, if not, the fulfillment and climactic inauguration of God’s promised redemptive purpose in Christ. The fully-orbed significance of Christ’s person and the work He accomplished at Calvary is what we find exulted over, explained, and the
central theme of worship in the New Testament. The Scriptures of the Old and New Testament alone are the words of Christ. The words of Christ are the means by which Christ is formed in us. This is, as Mark Garcia has said, “more than a captivating idea, it’s a captivating life.” 


      The multifaceted and systematic implications of our Lord’s person and work reach out backwards to OT saints and forward to us. The glory of God in Christ is the new song belonging to the people of God  because we have been reconciled to God and each other by God’s grace.
All of Scripture, whether in Christ-ward promise or Christ-centered fulfillment, details the defeat of evil in all its forms in Christ, by Christ, and through Christ.


      This is the warp and woof of Confessional Calvinist biblical interpretation. Berkof, for example, observed, “[m]any of the Old Testament types pointed ultimately to the New Testament realities; many prophecies found their final fulfillment in Jesus Christ, no matter how many of the Psalms give utterance to the joy and sorrow, not merely of the poets, but of the people of God as a whole, and, in some cases, of the suffering and triumphant Messiah. These considerations lead us to what may be called, the deeper sense of Scripture.” But they do so by comparing Scripture with Scripture. Biblical evidence is accumulated and synthesized. Implications are validly drawn out. Texts supplement texts (Analogy of Scripture). Uniformity in teachings (Analogy of Faith) are reached precisely because there is a non-arbitrary, non-capricious, proper, and rational method of Biblical interpretation. This whole, life long process is also the warp and woof that delivers to us the fortunes of a Reformed worldview! 


     In sum, the Scriptures display, despite its diversity, a glorious unity of content. Whether it is the individual Biblical books, doctrines, concepts, motifs, themes, covenants, promises, failures, fulfillments, genres, authors, or ultimately, the transcendent, lofty God of holiness who is mighty and merciful to save man from his miserable plight,
we are not given the right to conclude the Bible is a disparate collection of writings. 


      We are indispensably helped along the way to apprehend Scripture’s organic unity by means of both Biblical Theology and Systematic Theology.
Scripture itself marries Christ-centered, overarching “Meaning” with Christ-ward “meanings”, text with text, and testament with testament thus showing that God Himself has joined unity with diversity. Therefore, what God has joined together, let no interpreter tear asunder.


Suggested Reading Strategies For Understanding Sacred Scripture


     To understand the meaning of a Scripture text, you have to apply your thinking process to the thinking process of the Scripture’s authors (especially its ultimate, Divine Author). The reader of Scripture can only grasp its meaning as he appreciates more and more the style, content, and conventions of communication embedded in the text. Why? Because God revealed His Word through human authors in time and space history as He was dealing with His people in specific circumstances. We don’t seek to penetrate through the text to something beyond the words and propositions of Scripture because God’s special revelation are the words and propositions that comprise the Text of Scripture itself. “Sanctify them by Your truth. Your word is truth,” said the Lord Jesus. All meaning is found in the text, not behind or beyond it.


     That is how a reader gets at the thinking process of the Biblical authors and its ultimate, Divine Author: whatever is explicitly or implicitly drawn from the text, given its features and affordances rightly understood, is what the authors and the Author intended to communicate. The reader must be ready to engage with the text on its own terms--the terms dictated by its authors and its Author. Careful, close, and mindful attention to the Text is the only option for the Confessional Calvinist as a matter of Biblical commitment and conviction. The psalmist reminds us, “...For You have magnified Your word above all Your name” (138:2). This is how God’s people hear His voice. 


     So, then, we must examine the appropriately chosen text by a close, attentive, mindful, and repeated reading of the passage first. An appropriate text basically means a cohesive unit of thought between a sentence and a paragraph in length. The length of the text will usually depend on the genre it is part of in Scripture. 


     For example, in a narrative portion of the Bible, a prolonged prose passage of many paragraphs can be divided into many parts that communicate various streams of thought, episodes of life involving people and events, that contribute to its overall flow. Prose lends itself to the qualities of narratives. Whether it is personal narratives (e.g., the story of Abraham), familial narratives (e.g., the story of Jacob and his sons), or national narratives (e.g., the story of Israel during its united kingdom period), they all share certain qualities that prominently convey truth through the stories of people, places, events, conflicts, failures, and triumphs.


     However, in distinction from prose of narrative, the Bible also employs the vehicle of poetry to convey its thoughts and truth. The Psalms, for example, are lyrical expressions of praise, celebration, lament, complaint, and even the depths of despair. These passages contain more abbreviated and concentrated units of thought. Yet, for all their brevity and pithiness, they lack nothing in profundity, significance, immanence, transcendence, and applicability to the reader.


    So, then, a close and attentive reading of an appropriately chosen Biblical text involves a dissatisfaction with a merely cursory reading. It involves a deep dissatisfaction with a superficial comprehension of the Biblical text. (Is that what Biblicism is?) Close and attentive reading means being as mindful of the emergence of meaning from Scriptural revelation as an expectant mother is of giving birth to her baby. A mother spends 9 months monitoring closely the progress of her pregnancy. She eats properly. She adapts to the nausea in the early months by eating strategically to keep food down. She has regular and frequent doctor visits for ultrasounds and blood tests. On the day of delivery, there are a myriad of measures in place to have a safe and successful delivery for both mother and child. Similarly, a responsible reader is a serious reader who closely monitors their comprehension of the text according to the text itself.


      What is a close reading of the Bible mindful of? It is mindful of not imposing meaning on the text. It is mindful of the text’s content, structure, function, context, integration with other Scripture texts (especially with Christological significance), and only gleaning ideas and conclusions from the text itself. A close and attentive reading of the Bible is a strategy that seeks to yield evidence based deductions from an analysis of the content and particulars of the text itself. 


      The success of this strategy is improved by repeated readings and enhanced by thinking about the details of the text along the continuum of revelation of the person, work, and offices of the Lord Jesus.  After all, in addition to not imposing meaning onto a text, the mindful reader should not unduly close off a particular text to its integration with the rest of the Christological significance of Scripture. No text of Scripture is an island unto itself.


     Second, examine the flow of thought displayed in the chosen passage itself as well as how it functionally fits within its surrounding literary context. For example, if your chosen text is a sentence or two, how does it fit within the paragraph? If your chosen text is a paragraph, how does it fit within its larger, surrounding context? 


      No matter the length of the text under consideration, the reader’s examination will have to include a text’s use of language, the function of its grammar, special terms, patterns of organization, figures of speech, and other similar issues. Again, these are usually dependent on the genre the text is a part of in Scripture.


     Beyond these immediate literary contextual considerations, the reader must always be willing to take notice of broader thematic considerations throughout the canon of Scripture. Remember, no passage of Scripture is an island unto itself.  Among the greatest theological themes in the Bible is how God commenced, continued, and culminated his redemptive work in Christ. From its announcement to its fulfillment in the Old and New Testaments, respectively, the careful reader and interpreter will integrate the “meanings” of the Biblical books in each testament with the overarching “Meaning” of the Christ wrought salvation along redemptive historical lines as the chain of islands of an archipelago. 


       What is the bottom line? No matter how many foundational hermeneutical assumptions and the interpretive reading strategies that flow from them, the  bottom line is, as Dr. Craig Carter has stated, that "a certain kind of reader with a certain kind of document in the light of a certain type of God [will trump rigid steps and rules of interpretation]." All Confessional Calvinists can heartily agree with that. What lies next for all of us is to simply take up our Bibles and read! "What does the Scripture say?"


       To conclude, the true Confessional Calvinist interpreter of Scripture is neither a butcher of the Biblical Text nor is he a naive and superficial Biblicist. The Confessional Calvinist follows the Biblical example of the Bereans and the wise counsel of William Hendricksen (Survey of the Bible, 43) by becoming “thoroughly acquainted” with the Bible by “reading the Bible itself. Read not a small portion but a book at a time; say, Genesis in its entirety. What next? Read it again! At least three times! Get into the spirit of the book! See the Christ revealed in it!”


 

The end...for now!



For all those interested (and everyone reading should be interested!), please listen to Episode 11 of Urban Puritano for a behind the scenes look at a Confessional Calvinist handling of an interesting Old Testament Text of Scripture concerning Christ the Conqueror!
 


 









The body content of your post goes here. To edit this text, click on it and delete this default text and start typing your own or paste your own from a different source.

Share

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
The body content of your post goes here. To edit this text, click on it and delete this default text and start typing your own or paste your own from a different source.
By Urban Puritano August 8, 2026
The body content of your post goes here. To edit this text, click on it and delete this default text and start typing your own or paste your own from a different source.

Check the Urban Puritano Shop