Bibliology - Lesson 8

In our final session together, I want to touch on a few topics that I think are both interesting and important to reflect on. Let’s begin with a foundational question: what lies outside the scope of inspiration? I believe in plenary inspiration—that everything Scripture affirms is true. Yet, there are elements found in your Bible that are technically outside this scope.

First, consider the manuscripts. As mentioned before, we do not possess the original writings—no autographs of Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John. What we have are copies of copies. These contain observable differences, and that's why all doctrines of inerrancy refer specifically to the original autographs. Some argue that without these autographs, inspiration shouldn’t be discussed, but textual critics have done a remarkable job. In the vast majority of cases, we’re very confident we know what the original said.

Next, footnotes are not inspired. They are editorial additions from translation committees—especially in study Bibles. As someone who served as the NT chair of the ESV and who currently serves on the NIV translation team, I can tell you we are very cautious about adding footnotes. We focus on getting the text itself as accurate as possible, leaving interpretation to others. The NET Bible is an exception, filled with thousands of footnotes—but again, they’re not inspired.

Similarly, titles and headings are not inspired. There’s some debate over whether the Psalm titles were original to the text, but generally, headings are editorial additions. For example, an old version of Genesis was titled “Genesis, the Book of Beginnings, 4004 BC”—clearly not something Moses wrote. Interestingly, all known manuscript beginnings of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John include the author’s name, so those might be exceptions. But in most cases, headings are not inspired.

Verse numbers, paragraphs, chapters, and punctuation are also later additions. These formatting elements came around the 12th century and are not part of the original documents. Translations are likewise not inspired. Some people mistakenly believe that a specific translation—like the King James—is inspired. I once heard someone claim the KJV could correct the Greek! That’s simply not true. No translation, no matter how carefully done, is inspired.

Even grammatical errors appear in Scripture. Revelation, for instance, contains intentional grammatical anomalies—John was in an ecstatic state and less concerned with syntax. In 1 Timothy 1, Paul begins a sentence and never finishes it. These quirks are not inspired; they reflect the human element of writing.

Then there’s figurative language. Figures of speech aren’t errors, nor are they woodenly literal. Revelation speaks of the "four corners of the earth"—not an endorsement of a flat earth, but a figure of speech. Hyperbole is another example: Matthew 3:5 says “all Jerusalem went out to be baptized.” Really? Every single person? No—it’s like saying “I’m starving to death.” It’s expressive, not false.

Phenomenological language also isn’t erroneous. We say “the sun rises,” even though it’s the earth that moves. This isn’t a scientific statement but everyday language, and biblical writers used it too. Misunderstanding figures of speech can lead to false claims of error.

Approximations aren’t errors either. I’d illustrate this in class by asking a student their height—say, “5'11"”—then jokingly accusing them of lying because they weren’t exactly 5'11.0000". It’s silly. Likewise, 1 Kings 7:23 gives dimensions of a laver but doesn't account for pi with precision. My father, Bob Mounce, wrote an article explaining this was an approximation—not a mistake. Yet someone used it to claim he didn’t believe in biblical truth. He was even removed from a speaking circuit. That’s tragic, and wrong.

Scientific precision is a modern expectation that ancient writers didn’t share. Their days were divided into four parts—not into hours and minutes. They compressed stories more freely than we do. For example, in one Gospel Jesus curses the fig tree and it withers immediately; in another, it happens the next day. Both accounts are valid, just compressed differently.

And language itself is imprecise. It’s a “stringing of ambiguities,” as I say. We rarely speak with perfect clarity or precision. That’s not error—it’s human communication. Consider sportscasters: “That’s the greatest run in NFL history!” Really? The greatest? No, but that’s how we talk. Scripture uses that same kind of natural language.

So, there are many things in Scripture that are not “inspired” in the technical sense, and that’s okay.

Now, let me talk about something people often find challenging: the Latin terms ipsissima verba and ipsissima vox. The former means “the exact words,” and the latter “the authentic voice.” In many places we have ipsissima verba. For example, Jesus’ last words on the cross—“It is finished”—or when He says “Talitha koum,” which is preserved in Aramaic. These are most likely His exact words.

But in other places, the Gospel writers render what He said differently. They preserve the meaning, not the precise wording. And that’s fine. J. Warner Wallace, a detective, points out that if two witnesses describe a crime scene using exactly the same words, it’s a sign they’re lying. Different words conveying the same meaning is how real people speak.

Take the healing of the paralytic. Three Gospels report it, and each uses a different word for “mat.” One means bed, one stretcher, one mattress. They all convey the same basic idea, even if the words differ. This is ipsissima vox. And if you open a parallel Gospel edition, you can see these variations side by side—they’re real.

There’s a helpful resource called the Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy. It’s detailed, clarifying what inerrancy does and doesn’t mean. I highly recommend reading it if you want to understand this doctrine more deeply.

Let me close with why I personally believe the Bible is inspired and inerrant. I taught this topic for ten years at Azusa Pacific, and one memory stands out. A student named Matt—bright guy, got an A—came running into my office at graduation. Sweating in his robes, panicked. “Why do we believe the Bible is true?” he asked. He was heading into the real world and didn’t know.

And I realized—I had taught the mechanics of inspiration, but I had never shared why I believe it myself. So here’s why.

First, because the Bible says it is. “All Scripture is God-breathed.” The writers were “carried along by the Holy Spirit.” If it didn’t make that claim, I might not believe it. But it does.

Second, because it makes the most rational sense. Faith is involved, yes—but it’s a faith that explains reality better than any alternative. Evil exists. The doctrine of original sin explains that. So does the reality of Satan. Good and beauty exist. Abstract thought exists. Evolution doesn’t explain these things well. But Scripture does. I was created in God’s image to reflect Him to the world. That makes sense.

How do you explain that the world’s largest religion centers on a man who rose from the dead? Scripture says: “My sheep hear my voice.” We believe it because the Father draws us and we recognize the voice of Jesus.

Third, I believe it because of the inner witness of the Holy Spirit. Once, I tried to be “objective” and question everything. It lasted ten minutes. I laughed at myself. Why? Because the Spirit has confirmed Scripture in my life for 64 years. As Paul says, “The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God.”

So I don’t rely on just one reason. I rely on all three: Scripture’s claims, its rational coherence, and the Spirit’s confirmation in my life.

Sure, there are other arguments. It’s historically accurate. Internally consistent. Prophecies are fulfilled. It’s the most influential book in history. But here’s what matters: you can’t prove the Bible is from God. Faith is required. God demands it. “Without faith it is impossible to please God.” Still, God doesn’t ask us to check our brains at the door. This is faith that makes sense.

And don’t let anyone pretend that only Christians require faith. Everyone has unprovable assumptions. Secular worldviews, Islam, materialism—they all require faith. C.S. Lewis described a fish who thought his bowl was all there was. Then someone dropped a rock in. His “faith” was shattered.

You can’t prove your worldview. Nobody can. So it’s unfair to demand Christians prove theirs. Everyone operates from a foundation of belief.

I’m grateful that God didn’t ask me to abandon my mind. My faith has been strengthened by reason, history, and science. But at the core, it is still faith.

One final note. Here’s our statement of faith at BiblicalTraining. I hope it now has more depth for you:

“The Bible is the infallible Word of God, the supreme rule for faith and practice. The 66 books of the Old and New Testaments came from the very mouth of God and are without error in the originals. Scripture is the unique and supreme guide for all it affirms—both belief and behavior. The teachings of the Bible are sufficient for salvation and sanctification.”

People may disagree on application and interpretation. But when it comes to salvation and sanctification, everything essential is clearly expressed in Scripture—either as precept or principle.

That’s bibliology. I hope this encourages you to think, reason, reflect, and engage others. But above all, come to your own conviction. Because when life gets hard—and it will—you need to know exactly what you believe about this Book.

Thank you.