Barefoot in the wilderness
in search of understanding

Inerrancy?

OK, this isn’t a topic I think about that often, but I’ve recently been bumping into it in various places – the idea that the Bible is “inerrant”. In a way, it’s odd that there should be such debate about this. The word itself means “without error”, which isn’t such a bad guideline initially. However, the way this word is used owes a lot to history and politics. It might surprise some to learn that the historic position of the Church (any wing you care to mention) has never been that the Bible is inerrant in the sense that word is used. The term was only invented during the 19th century as part of the debate between the evangelical and liberal wings of the response to Modernism. The evangelicals wanted to affirm that the Bible was reliable and authoritative in its teachings, in the face of challenges from atheists waving new scientific findings as though they disproved Christianity, and they picked “inerrancy” as their battle cry. (The liberals, by contrast, wanted to affirm that the Bible and Christianity taught nothing that was untrue or contrary to the way the world really worked.)

However, there is a huge, huge gulf between saying that the Bible is authoritative and reliable, and saying that it’s inerrant. “Inerrancy” has accumulated a huge variety of spurious beliefs around it that mean it’s a very bad word to use unless you actually want to convey those beliefs. Such as that we should rely on the Bible for every little piece of truth – science, maths, astronomy, whatever – if the Bible addresses it then it must be absolutely, without quesion, 100% factually accurate. If the Bible says that the Sun stood still in the sky for 3 days then that’s what it did (and never mind that the Sun doesn’t move across the sky but that the Earth rotates); if the Bible says that pi is 3 then never mind that it’s actually 3.14159…; if the Bible says that God created the heavens and earth in 7 days then it must be so (and never ask what it means for there to be days before there were Sun or Moon).

My point? Inerrancy is a bad word. For debate about what we think about the Bible and how we approach it, it’s almost meaningless, because some people cling to it as an anchor but never really think about what it means, while others are dashed against its obduracy and pig-headedness when faced with the slightest hint of metaphor. “Inerrancy” becomes a cipher, a password for orthodoxy. If we really want to think clearly, to make sense and to communicate, it is far, far better for us to use more limited, more accurate and more helpful words. If we mean to say that God inspired the Bible then let us say so. If we mean that parts are poetical, let us say so. If we mean that parts are good history, let us say so. (And all of those are things I would proudly proclaim.) By contrast, if we mean that God dictated it to human scribes, let us say so. If we mean that every word is historically accurate, with not a hint of bias or spin, let us say so. If we mean that it is an astronomy text, let us say so. (And not one of those is something I would want to hear any Christian claiming.)

pax et bonum