2 Timothy 2:9

THE BIBLE

‘The word of God is not bound.’

2 Timothy 2:9

It is a notable allegation, and we take occasion to direct your thoughts to certain considerations flowing from this statement.

I. The Bible is the Word of God.—What do we mean by this tremendous assertion? What should the phrase ‘the Word of God’ convey?

(a) Views of inspiration were prevalent once, which we of to-day decline to accept; and our rejection of them leaves, as we are persuaded, the Bible a more wonderful production in our esteem than before.

(b) Another consideration is offered. The shifting of the front of attack is singular. Years ago it was contended by destructive criticism that Moses could not possibly have had sufficient learning to write the Pentateuch. Now modern discoveries have conclusively proved that he would have been behind his contemporaries had he not.

II. The Bible being written by men whose thoughts were not fettered, but free, is intended for readers whose thoughts are free. ‘Uphold me,’ prays the Psalmist, ‘with Thy free Spirit.’ ‘Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty,’ writes St. Paul. We confess to little sympathy with that timid credulity (we cannot call it faith) which fears the disintegrating influence of modern criticism. It is so intensely illogical. If the Bible can be pulled to pieces, the sooner this process is accomplished the better for a hitherto deluded Christendom. But can it? Like its Lord, the Incarnate Word of God, it is on its trial.

Like its Lord, once more we say, This Book is ‘set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel, and for a sign that shall be spoken against.’

—Bishop Alfred Pearson.

Illustration

‘St. Paul here registers his confidence in the power of the Word of God to dispense with his personal support and defence. It does not suffer from his enforced withdrawal from active service. It is not restrained in its effectual activities because for the time he is. It has within itself the secret of its own vitality and of its own spiritual successes. And this will be vindicated in the eyes of the world, while he is hidden away from observation in the Roman barrack. Said a man—and a young one—from a platform once: “I am here to-day to defend the Bible.” Perhaps his words were less modest than their meaning. Probably older people present smiled, conscious that the Bible did not need his defence or any one else’s; that a book which had survived more attacks than all other books in the world put together would survive that very young man and all the foes against which he had the purpose of defending it.’