Eastern Orthodox Critique of Sola Scriptura
Eastern Orthodox Critique of Sola Scriptura
Orthodox Refutation
By: Luke .W. Allen
Nuda Scriptura. The Reformers did not intend Sola Scriptura to mean Nuda Scriptura (“naked Scripture”),
a misinterpretation that strips the Bible from all ecclesial context and historical interpretation. Nuda
Scriptura is a radical solo-scripture view whereby everything Christians believe or do must have explicit
biblical chapter-and-verse support, and anything not literally in Scripture is rejected. This extreme view,
essentially solo Scriptura, denudes Scripture of any interpretive tradition or community. Reformed scholar
R. Scott Clark clarifies that it is a misunderstanding to think the Reformers taught the Bible as the only
theological resource in isolation from the Church. John Calvin, for instance, held Scripture as the only
infallible rule, yet he regularly consulted the Church Fathers (especially St. Augustine) to inform his theology
and demonstrate continuity with the early Church. The magisterial Reformers respected the ancient creeds
and councils—so long as these were judged by Scripture. They rejected human traditions that contradicted
Scripture, but they did not reject all tradition per se. Later Protestants have reiterated this: Sola Scriptura
“does not mean Scriptura nuda (naked Scripture) severed from the church’s interpretive context, but
Scripture as supreme within the church”. In short, Sola Scriptura is not a command to ignore history or
theology; it is a claim about final authority. The Nuda Scriptura approach—each individual reading the
Bible with no regard for how past saints understood it—is not what the classical Reformers taught.
Orthodox critics note, however, that in practice many Protestant communities slid toward Nuda Scriptura,
elevating private interpretation and dismissing the value of the Church’s “churchly context”, which leads to
doctrinal drift and atomistic readings of Scripture (see §10 below).
Prima Scriptura. Prima Scriptura (“Scripture first”) is a related concept often contrasted with Sola
Scriptura. It holds that while Scripture is the primary or foremost authority, other sources—such as
apostolic Tradition, reason, and spiritual experience—may also guide Christians, albeit in a subordinate role.
This view underlies, for example, the Wesleyan Quadrilateral (Scripture, Tradition, Reason, Experience) in
Methodist thought. Prima Scriptura acknowledges that God’s truth can be manifested through the church’s
traditions, the insight of the Fathers, liturgical life, and even general revelation, so long as these do not
contradict Scripture and are evaluated in light of Scripture’s primacy. In essence, Prima Scriptura adherents
hold the Bible as the foundational source of doctrine, but not the only source. By contrast, Sola Scriptura in
its strict form would assert that only Scripture can establish doctrines infallibly (even if tradition, etc., may
be useful as fallible historical witnesses). The difference is one of degree and scope of authority: Prima allows
a formal role for Tradition and ecclesial teaching (Scripture is first among authorities), whereas Sola says sola
(Scripture is the only final authority). The Orthodox position could be described as Prima Scriptura in the
sense that Scripture is revered as the inspired written core of Holy Tradition—but as this treatise will argue,
Orthodoxy ultimately rejects the sola paradigm, insisting that Scripture can never be isolated from the living
Tradition and authority of the Church that produced it. As we shall see, the very formation of the biblical
canon and the safeguarding of its true meaning depend upon Holy Tradition (§7), a truth that renders Sola
Scriptura self-contradictory in practice.
Summary: In Protestant confessions, Sola Scriptura means the Bible alone is the uniquely God-breathed,
inerrant norm (“only infallible rule”) for doctrine. It rejects any co-equal authority (such as an infallible
magisterium or unwritten tradition) that could bind consciences apart from Scripture. However, the
Reformers did not advocate a naïve “Bible-and-me” individualism (Nuda Scriptura); they acknowledged the
ministerial value of tradition, creeds, and teachers—only these must themselves be judged by the “higher
court” of the written Word. Prima Scriptura goes a step further in giving tradition and other sources a
consultative authority under Scripture’s primacy. With these definitions clarified, we can proceed to examine
the assumptions underlying Sola Scriptura and to evaluate them from an Eastern Orthodox perspective.
Yet this presuppositional stance has drawn serious logical critique. Philosopher David Hoover, analyzing Van
Til’s methodology, noted a self-referential problem: Van Til demanded that Christian truth be shown
“necessarily true” on its own terms, but his method lacked a non-circular argument to accomplish this. In
fact, Van Til’s principles “logically preclude the only result [he] will accept,” making his argument
circular—he assumes the conclusion (the ultimate authority of Scripture) as a premise. The issue generalizes
to Sola Scriptura itself. If one presupposes that only Scripture is infallible, then by definition any attempt to
justify Scripture’s authority will appeal to Scripture (for appealing to any external criterion would violate the
principle). This leads to a kind of epistemic closed loop. The presuppositionalist is frank about this
circularity: appealing to anything outside Scripture to prove Scripture would make that thing a higher
standard, which cannot be if Scripture is truly ultimate. Therefore, believers are asked to accept the Bible’s
authority as a foundational given—often on the basis that the Holy Spirit gives inward assurance of
Scripture’s truth (Calvin’s testimonium Spiritus Sancti internum). John Calvin wrote that Scripture’s
authority is self-authenticating because it comes from God; hence, “God alone is a fit witness of Himself in
His Word…Scripture is indeed self-authenticated”. In Van Til’s view, to argue for Scripture from external
evidence is to grant the unbeliever an inadmissible judge’s seat; the proper stance is to presuppose Scripture
and expose the incoherence of alternative foundations.
The Orthodox critique of this presuppositional approach is not that God’s Word lacks intrinsic authority,
but that isolating Scripture from the God-given context of the Church and its Tradition yields an abstract,
self-referential claim that cannot be distinguished from subjectivism. If every faith community presupposes
its own scriptures or interpretations as axiomatic, how does one discern the true Word of God? A Mormon,
for instance, might presuppose the Book of Mormon as God’s Word and claim an inner testimony of the
Spirit. A Van Tilian would respond that only the 66-book Protestant Bible is the true presupposition—but to
someone outside that tradition, this begs the question. It assumes what it needs to prove: that the Protestant
canon and interpretation are the uniquely correct revelation. By contrast, Orthodoxy offers an historical and
incarnational epistemology: Christ founded a visible Church, endowed with the Holy Spirit, as the “pillar
and bulwark of the truth” (1 Tim. 3:15). The Church, through its continuity and conciliar consensus,
provides the necessary precondition for knowing which writings are truly Scripture and what they mean.
Rather than an abstract individual presupposition, the authority of Scripture is a lived reality, recognized and
confirmed within the communion of the Church. Thus, Orthodoxy does not start with “Scripture alone” in
a vacuum; it starts with the Church that Christ established, within which Scripture is venerated as God’s
Word. The difference is subtle but crucial: Protestants presuppose an inspired book and derive church
authority from it; Orthodox presuppose an inspired Church (alive with the Holy Spirit) and receive the
book from her. We shall see the importance of this when examining the canon in §7.
2.2 The “Self-Authenticating Canon” – Circularity or Coherence? In recent Protestant scholarship, Dr.
Michael J. Kruger has articulated a “self-authenticating model” of the biblical canon that encapsulates the
Sola Scriptura ethos. He observes that all approaches to canon that appeal to something outside Scripture (be
it church councils, historical analysis, or community reception) ultimately make the canon’s authority rest
on fallible human judgment. In Kruger’s view, this subjects God’s Word to relativism and “has no need of
arguments derived from without to prove itself”. To safeguard the Bible’s absolute authority, Kruger argues
the canon must be self-authenticating (autopistos): the Scriptures, by virtue of divine qualities (such as
doctrinal harmony, transformative power, and Christ-centered beauty) and the internal witness of the Spirit,
authenticate themselves to the believer. In practice, this means the Church recognized the 27 books of the
New Testament not by an external verdict, but because these books, and no others, inherently shone forth as
God’s Word—“My sheep hear My voice” is the biblical principle invoked. Moreover, the very act of
identifying the canon would then be guided by the Holy Spirit in the community, as a part of revelation
itself, rather than a post facto human decision. This model aims to allow Protestants to affirm the canon
without conceding authority to Tradition or councils, consistent with Sola Scriptura.
The Orthodox response to Kruger’s model is twofold: historical and logical. Historically, the
self-authenticating canon thesis does not square with the record of the early Church. The process of
canonization in the first four centuries was often messy and relied on Tradition as a key criterion. Early lists
and Fathers show disagreements—some books (e.g. Revelation, Hebrews, James, 2 Peter) were disputed by
many orthodox Christians, while some non-canonical writings (e.g. The Shepherd of Hermas, the Epistle of
Barnabas) were highly esteemed in certain churches. If the canonical books were manifestly
self-authenticating, why did it take over 300 years and numerous synods (Hippo 393, Carthage 397, etc.) to
reach consensus? The Church did appeal to external criteria: Was a given book of apostolic origin and used
in the liturgy since antiquity? Did it conform to the “rule of faith” (the core apostolic Tradition)? These are
extrinsic tests. Indeed, the Church’s tradition—the oral preaching and teaching passed down—was used as
the measuring rod to discern true apostolic writings from spurious ones. As one scholar puts it, the early
Church “subjected the canon to the relativity of historical study”, examining authorship and consistent use.
Kruger warns this would “destroy the New Testament as canon”, but that is precisely how the Holy Spirit
guided the Church: through historical continuity and collective wisdom, not through dropping a table of
contents from heaven. Ironically, Protestants accept the outcome of that traditional process (the canon)
while denying the principle (Tradition’s authority) that produced the outcome. Orthodoxy sees this as
historically anachronistic.
Logically, the notion of a self-authenticating set of books is circular and undermines the very scriptural
principle it seeks to protect. To say “one cannot authenticate the canon without appealing to the canon” is
effectively to assume what one needs to prove. It collapses into solipsism: We know these books are God’s
Word because these books (collectively) say so. But nowhere does Scripture provide an inspired index of its
own contents. For example, 2 Timothy 3:16 (often cited as proof of Scripture’s authority) teaches that “all
Scripture is God-breathed”, but nowhere does the Bible itself tell us which books count as “Scripture.”
Appealing to 2 Tim. 3:16 to prove the scope of the canon is circular reasoning: one must first know what
“all Scripture” refers to. Kruger’s model tacitly acknowledges this circularity and tries to elevate it to a virtue,
calling it “the hallmark of the Reformers” and comparing it to God swearing by Himself (Heb. 6:13).
However, from a logical standpoint, such a petitio principii (begging the question) is only legitimate if the
premise is self-evident or divinely guaranteed in a way accessible to us. The Orthodox ask: How is the
ordinary believer or the historical researcher to know, for instance, that the Epistle of Jude is God-breathed
but the Epistle of Barnabas is not, except by trusting the Tradition of the Church? The Bible nowhere names
“Jude” as Scripture; it was the Church’s tradition that carried that letter and discerned its value.
Furthermore, if one invokes the Holy Spirit’s testimony in the heart of each believer (as Calvin did) to
authenticate the canon, this itself is an extra-biblical mechanism. Scripture does not teach that each
Christian will receive a private revelation of the canon’s table of contents. Thus, the Sola Scriptura advocate
finds himself in a bind: either rely on the Church’s historic testimony (which violates Sola Scriptura’s
principle by granting Tradition a critical role), or rely on a subjective Spirit-guidance to each individual
(which can neither be verified nor is taught in Scripture). Indeed, R.C. Sproul candidly admitted that for
Protestants the canon is a “fallible collection of infallible books” – a concession that the process by which the
books were recognized was not itself infallible (since they deny the Church that charism). This means,
uncomfortably, that Sola Scriptura requires one to stake absolute trust in a collection of writings that one
cannot claim with certainty was perfectly gathered without error. (Sproul did not believe any errors were
made in the canon, but his theology could not guarantee it, a point not lost on Catholic and Orthodox
critics.)
In summary, the philosophical core of Sola Scriptura is a presuppositional commitment to Scripture’s sole
authority and an insistence that the Bible in some sense authenticates itself. Orthodoxy challenges this by
pointing out the circular logic and self-referential fragility of the position. A formula can be proposed:
● Principle (Sola Scriptura): “All doctrines binding on Christians must be found in Scripture.”
● We then ask: Is that very principle found in Scripture? If yes, where? (We find no verse that says
“Scripture alone is the final authority.” Protestants infer it, but it is not explicitly taught—see §3.) If
no, then by its own criterion, the principle should be rejected as a non-biblical doctrine.
This self-referential test exposes Sola Scriptura as logically self-refuting unless it can ground itself in
Scripture. As we will see (§3), the Bible itself does not teach Sola Scriptura. It upholds the authority of
Scripture, certainly, but also points beyond the written word to the living Tradition and Church. In formal
terms, Sola Scriptura is a claim D that says “only statements grounded in Scripture are binding.” If D is not
grounded in Scripture, then D undermines itself – a classic case of performative inconsistency. The
Protestant apologist must then either (a) find D in Scripture (which has proven elusive), or (b) grant that D
is a fallible tradition of men. Either choice fatally undercuts the absoluteness of Sola Scriptura.
2.3 Hidden Assumptions about Reason and Interpretation. Another assumption behind Sola Scriptura is
the perspicuity (clarity) of Scripture and the capacity of individual believers to interpret it correctly through
the Spirit’s help. The Reformers, reacting against what they saw as the obscurantism of medieval
scholasticism and the authoritarian withholding of Scripture from the laity, taught that the essential message
of the Bible is clear enough in its main lines (“those things which are necessary to be known, believed, and
observed for salvation”) and does not require an infallible magisterium to decode. They affirmed the right of
private judgment in interpretation, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. As the Westminster Confession
states, “...in a due use of the ordinary means, may attain unto a sufficient understanding of [Scripture]”, so
that “the infallible rule of interpretation of Scripture, is Scripture itself” (comparing passages). This
hermeneutical optimism is tied to Sola Scriptura: if Scripture is the only authority, it must be basically
self-interpreting and accessible, at least in its core gospel message, to any earnest reader illumined by the
Spirit.
Orthodoxy again approaches this differently. The Orthodox Church certainly believes Scripture’s message is
true and life-giving, and that the Holy Spirit works in the hearts of believers reading Scripture. But
Orthodoxy also witnesses, from history and experience, that Scripture is often wrested and twisted by those
who are unmoored from the Apostolic Tradition (2 Pet. 3:16). The proliferation of mutually contradictory
interpretations among sincere Protestants, all claiming the Holy Spirit’s guidance, casts doubt on the idea
that Scripture’s meaning is uniformly clear to all. The same Reformers who proclaimed sola Scriptura soon
found themselves in violent disagreement with radical Protestants (Anabaptists, etc.) who took different
interpretations. Luther lamented the rise of “sects” even in his lifetime. An Orthodox analysis would say this
is not a coincidence but a logical outcome: once the objective interpretive authority of the Church is set
aside, interpretation inevitably becomes individualized, and doctrinal unity collapses (we will detail this fruit
in §10). The presupposition that “Holy Spirit will lead each true Christian into all necessary truth by
Scripture alone” is not one that Scripture itself promises to each individual in isolation; rather, Christ’s
promise of guidance (John 16:13) was given to the community of the apostles and by extension the Church.
The Orthodox Church understands that the Spirit leads the whole Church into truth through time – a
process often requiring Councils, debate, and the testing of spirits – not that each person’s subjective
understanding is automatically protected from error.
Thus, Sola Scriptura’s epistemology rests on a kind of individual faith in one’s interpretation (“my
conscience is captive to the Word of God”, as Luther said) over against any external authoritative
interpretation. This was a double-edged sword: it fueled a heroic stand for truth against corrupt authority,
but it also unintentionally enthroned the individual conscience as the ultimate tribunal of doctrine. In
contrast, Orthodoxy subjects individual understanding to the collective wisdom of the Church across ages
(what St. Vincent of Lérins called quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus creditum est – “what has been
believed everywhere, always, and by all” – as the test of true tradition). Orthodoxy values humility in
interpretation: no private person, however learned or pious, may innovate doctrine or interpret in a way that
overturns the consensus of the Fathers. This communal, tradition-bound approach is seen as a safeguard
given by the Holy Spirit.
In summary, the philosophical assumptions of Sola Scriptura include: (1) an a priori stance that Scripture
alone is the foundation (and thus a tendency to circular reasoning in proving it), (2) a belief in the Bible’s
self-sufficiency (self-authentication and self-interpretation) that sidelines historical and ecclesial context, and
(3) confidence in individual Spirit-led interpretation (often downplaying how easily individuals can err and
how Scripture itself calls the Church to guide and teach – cf. 1 Tim. 3:15, 2 Pet. 1:20-21). These
assumptions will be tested against biblical evidence (§3), patristic testimony (§5-6), and the pragmatic fruits
of Sola Scriptura (§10). Orthodox analysis finds these assumptions neither explicitly taught in Scripture nor
borne out in Christian history, but rather contradicted by both.
3.1 Apostolic Paradosis (Tradition) Commanded. Far from advocating Scripture as the sole rule of faith, the
New Testament shows the Apostles authoritatively transmitting Tradition (Greek: παράδοσις, paradosis,
meaning “what is handed down”). St. Paul explicitly exhorts Christians to hold fast to apostolic traditions,
both written and oral. In 2 Thessalonians 2:15, he commands the Church: “So then, brethren, stand firm
and hold to the traditions (τὰς παραδόσεις) which you were taught, whether by word [oral] or by our epistle
[written]”. Here, Paul places oral tradition and written Scripture on parallel footing as authoritative
teaching. He does not say “hold to Scripture alone” or imply that his letters supersede his oral instructions.
On the contrary, he insists the Thessalonians adhere to all forms of apostolic delivery of doctrine. St. John
Chrysostom, commenting on this very verse, wrote: “Hence it is manifest, that they did not deliver all things
by Epistle, but many things also unwritten, and in like manner both the one and the other are worthy of
credit. Therefore let us think the tradition of the Church also worthy of credit. It is a tradition, seek no
farther.” (Emphasis added.) This venerable Father, a foremost biblical exegete, flatly states that the Apostles
imparted much that was not later inscripturated, and that such unwritten traditions carry equal weight and
do not require further proof beyond being authentic Church tradition. This is a direct refutation of the idea
that all binding doctrine must be found in Scripture. The Bible itself (in 2 Thess. 2:15, understood by the
early Church) upholds Holy Tradition as normative.
Similarly, 1 Corinthians 11:2: “I commend you because you…maintain the traditions even as I delivered them
to you.” The word for “delivered” (παρέδωκα, from paradidomi) is the verb form of tradition. Paul uses the
same term in describing the Eucharist: “For I received ( παρέλαβον*) from the Lord what I also delivered
(παρέδωκα) to you…”* (1 Cor. 11:23). This is technical language of transmitting sacred Tradition. The
Corinthians are praised not for searching Scripture, but for keeping the apostolic traditions Paul gave them.
Some of those traditions are recorded in the epistle (e.g. the institution of the Eucharist), but the
commendation is general – implying Paul had given them a body of teachings and practices, some in person,
which they were expected to preserve. It is significant that when later in the same chapter Paul addresses
practical matters (like head coverings and church decorum), he appeals to Church custom: “If anyone is
inclined to be contentious, we have no such practice, nor do the churches of God” (1 Cor. 11:16). In other
words, the norm is what the churches practice – an appeal to common tradition as authoritative, even in the
absence of a specific scripture.
3.2 The “Deposit” of Faith Entrusted to the Church. St. Paul’s epistles to Timothy reveal that he viewed
sound doctrine as a deposit (παραθήκη, parathéké) entrusted by the Holy Spirit to the Church’s ministers. 2
Timothy 1:13-14: “Follow the pattern of the sound words which you have heard from me… Guard the good
deposit entrusted to you, through the Holy Spirit who dwells in us.” Notice Paul does not say, “Just read
Scripture, Timothy.” He directs Timothy to hold fast to the pattern (or standard, Gk. ὑποτύπωσις) of sound
teaching he had received from Paul – much of which was likely conveyed orally – and to guard the deposit of
faith by the Spirit’s help. A deposit is something handed over for safekeeping. The imagery strongly suggests
a body of doctrinal content passed down from the apostles to their successors (paradosis again). In 1
Timothy 6:20, Paul similarly urges, “O Timothy, guard what has been entrusted to you (τὴν παραθήκην),
avoiding profane chatter and contradictions of what is falsely called knowledge.” The contrast implies that
the truth is found in the entrusted apostolic teaching, whereas straying into other interpretations (perhaps
early Gnostic speculations) is perilous. Thus, Timothy’s charge as a bishop is not just to quote Scripture at
people, but to safeguard the correct understanding of the faith as handed down by Paul. This is precisely the
Orthodox concept of Holy Tradition: the Church, guided by the Spirit, safeguarding the apostolic deposit
through successive generations (2 Tim. 2:2 – “what you have heard from me before many witnesses entrust to
faithful men who will be able to teach others also” – a four-generation span of tradition: Paul to Timothy to
faithful men to others). The implication is clear: the fullness of apostolic teaching lives in the Church’s
memory and ministry, not in a text alone.
3.3 The Church’s Teaching Authority and Scripture. The New Testament shows the Church exercising
authority in teaching and interpreting God’s word. In Acts 15, the Council of Jerusalem (around AD 49)
deliberated whether Gentile converts must keep the Mosaic Law. This council, guided by the Holy Spirit (“it
seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us” – Acts 15:28), issued a binding doctrinal decision for all churches –
a precedent for conciliar authority. Significantly, this decree was not arrived at by each person quoting
Scripture individually; it was reached through apostolic authority in council. They did cite the Old
Testament (Amos’s prophecy, as James does in Acts 15:16-18), but that was in the context of the Church’s
authority to render a decision. The council’s decision (no circumcision for Gentiles, but some dietary/ethical
stipulations) is then promulgated in a letter as normative (Acts 15:28-29). Here we see Scripture (Amos),
apostolic leadership (Peter, James, etc.), church deliberation, and Spirit guidance all working in concert – a
model very much like Orthodox councils. The principle of Sola Scriptura is alien to this scene: the apostles
do not simply “proof-text” a solution; they declare one with the authority of Christ (“I will give you the
keys…whatever you bind on earth is bound in heaven” – Matt. 16:19, 18:18).
St. Paul likewise authorizes apostolic tradition and command as binding. In 2 Thessalonians 3:14 he says, “If
anyone does not obey what we say in this letter, note that man and have nothing to do with him.” Earlier, in
3:6, “Keep away from any brother who is walking in idleness and not in accord with the tradition (τῇ
παραδόσει) that you received from us.” Paul is consciously laying down norms (both written and previously
delivered tradition) that carry disciplinary weight. In 1 Timothy 5:20, he talks about elders ruling and
teaching. Hebrews 13:7,17 urges Christians to “remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of
God” and to “obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls.” This clearly
attests to a living teaching authority in the Church that believers must heed. If Sola Scriptura were the
operative principle, one would expect verses to say “obey Scripture alone” or “each believer is his own guide
with the Bible.” Instead, we find an ecclesial structure of authority for teaching and discipline. The Word of
God in Hebrews 13:7 likely includes the preaching of the gospel by those leaders, not just them reading from
a text. This corresponds to the Orthodox understanding that Christ’s Word is transmitted in the Church by
both Scripture and apostolic preaching/tradition, and that the faithful owe deference to legitimate church
authority.
3.4 Jesus and the Mode of Revelation. The Gospel of John ends with a striking statement (John 21:25):
“And there are also many other things which Jesus did, which if they were written in detail, I suppose that even
the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.” While somewhat hyperbolic, this verse
underscores that not everything of revelatory significance was captured in written form. Jesus taught and did
far more than what is recorded in the Gospels. The Apostles’ preaching in the early decades of the Church
included the totality of Jesus’s revelation, only part of which was later written down. John 21:25 opens the
door for Sacred Tradition: the lived memory of the Church contains aspects of Jesus’ teaching and example
not explicitly in Scripture. For example, the New Testament nowhere gives a manual of how to perform
baptism or the Eucharist in detail, yet the Church has faithfully carried out these rites from the Apostles’
instruction (cf. 1 Cor. 11:23-24, Didache 7-10). Likewise, sayings of Jesus not in the Gospels are alluded to
(Acts 20:35 quotes Jesus saying “It is more blessed to give than to receive,” a saying not found in the written
Gospels). This shows the existence of authentic oral tradition from Jesus. Far from rebuking the idea of
extra-scriptural tradition, the Bible acknowledges it.
One might object: Did not Jesus condemn “traditions of men” that void God’s word (Mark 7:8-13)?
Yes—corrupt human traditions, such as the Pharisaic practice of Korban which nullified the commandment
to honor parents. But this criticism was aimed at traditions of men that contradict Scripture, not at
authentic divine Tradition. In fact, Jesus upheld the authority of the Mosaic tradition (Matt. 23:2-3: “The
scribes and Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat, so practice and observe whatever they tell you” – an acknowledgment
of a traditional authority, since “Moses’ seat” is not a Scriptural concept but a traditional governance
notion). And Jesus himself established a traditioning process: “make disciples…teaching them to observe all
that I have commanded you” (Matt. 28:19-20). Note “all that I have commanded” – Jesus did not write a
book; He constituted a community with a deposit of teachings. The Great Commission is fundamentally
Word and Tradition: the Apostles are to preach, teach, and by implication hand down Jesus’ words and
ordinances (baptism, etc.) to all nations. This oral teaching mission precedes and produces the written New
Testament. The Church existed and was fully the Church on Pentecost, decades before the New Testament
was completed. During those formative years, the apostolic oral teaching (Tradition) was the rule of faith –
and it did not become null once some of it was written in epistles. The written texts were part of the
ongoing Tradition.
3.5 The Septuagint and Textual Tradition. The user asked to draw from the Greek Septuagint and Byzantine
text-type as well. These are pertinent to an Orthodox view of Scripture and Tradition. The Septuagint
(LXX) is the ancient Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, produced in the pre-Christian era, which
became the Old Testament of the early Church. The Apostles and Evangelists, writing the New Testament in
Greek, overwhelmingly quote the Old Testament from the Septuagint version (often even when it slightly
differs from the Hebrew Masoretic text). This means the New Testament itself bears witness to the authority
of a received tradition of Scripture – the Greek textual tradition of the LXX. Jesus and the Apostles treated
that Greek translation as Scripture (e.g. when Hebrews 10:5 quotes Psalm 40:6, it follows the LXX reading
“a body have You prepared for Me” rather than the Hebrew “You have dug my ears”). The early Church thus
clearly privileged the living usage of Scripture (the LXX in Greek-speaking churches) rather than insisting
on the Hebrew alone. This is relevant because at the Reformation, Protestant scholars (influenced by Jewish
Masoretes and an emphasis on the Hebrew original) rejected several books that were in the Septuagint canon
(the deuterocanonical books) precisely because they were not in the later Hebrew canon. The Orthodox
Church, however, continues to receive those books (like Maccabees, Wisdom of Solomon, Tobit, etc.) as part
of the Bible, because they were part of the Apostolic Bible (the LXX) and embedded in Church Tradition.
The Protestant Old Testament (aligned with the Jewish Tanakh) is actually following a post-apostolic
tradition (the rabbinical decision to exclude certain Hellenistic-era books). This demonstrates that
Protestants do rely on extra-biblical tradition (in this case, post-biblical Jewish tradition) in determining the
scope of Scripture – another self-contradiction of Sola Scriptura. Orthodoxy, by contrast, sticks with the
Christian Tradition of the Alexandrian canon as used by the apostles and the early Church.
As for the Byzantine text-type of the New Testament: Orthodox editions of the New Testament typically
follow the ecclesiastical text (often similar to the Textus Receptus or Majority Text), which is the form of the
Greek text preserved in the vast majority of later manuscripts used in the Byzantine Church. This tradition
of manuscript transmission was guarded in monasteries and churches of the Greek-speaking world (i.e. the
Byzantine Empire). The very existence of a relatively uniform Byzantine text is a testament to the Church’s
careful copying and safeguarding of Scripture. While modern critical scholars also use Alexandrian
manuscripts for reconstructing the NT text, the point here is that the New Testament text itself reached us
through Tradition – faithful copying in the Church. The Protestant reliance (especially in the Reformation
era) on editions of the Greek New Testament (Erasmus’s Textus Receptus) was entirely dependent on the
Byzantine manuscript tradition preserved by Orthodox monks. In effect, the Bible that the Reformers
championed was handed down to them by the tradition of Eastern Christendom. Thus, even at the basic
level of text, Scripture comes to us by tradition. The Orthodox trust this providential textual tradition
(without denying the value of textual criticism) and see it as one more example that Scripture is inextricably
linked with the Church. The Holy Spirit not only inspired the biblical authors but also preserved their
writings through the church’s life. Therefore, any claim that the Church corrupted Scripture is historically
untenable – the very manuscripts prove the continuity. And any idea that Scripture stands apart from
Tradition forgets that Tradition carried Scripture through the centuries.
3.6 Conclusion from Scripture. The New Testament provides no support for the Sola Scriptura doctrine.
Instead, it presents a model of a Church built on the foundation of the apostles (Eph. 2:20), which includes
Scripture and Tradition as harmonious components of the one deposit of faith. The Apostles wrote
Scripture under inspiration, yes, but they also preached and established practices (Luke says in Acts 2:42 the
early Christians “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching (διδαχή) and fellowship, to the breaking of bread
and the prayers.” Here “apostles’ teaching” encompasses more than written Gospels – none were written yet
in Acts 2!). The “breaking of bread” (Eucharist) and “the prayers” (liturgy) are part of the lived Tradition.
Paul explicitly tells the church to hold fast to traditions not all of which were written down. The Bible never
claims to be an exhaustive manual of all Christian doctrine or worship; John’s Gospel frankly admits it is
selective (John 20:30, 21:25). Paul refers to traditions and expected his spoken word to be authoritative (2
Thess. 2:15, 3:6). The magisterial role of the Church is seen as the ground and pillar of truth (1 Tim. 3:15)
and the final arbiter in controversies (Matt. 18:17, Acts 15).
Thus, the prima facie biblical data aligns with the Orthodox position: Scripture is supremely authoritative
as God’s written Word, but it does not exist in isolation – it presupposes a Spirit-guided Church and a body
of unwritten Tradition. The Bible itself, properly interpreted, undermines Sola Scriptura. No verse instructs
believers that all doctrine must be proven from Scripture alone. Instead, believers are instructed to “hold
fast” to what they were taught by the apostles in whatever form delivered, to “contend for the faith once for
all delivered to the saints” (Jude 3) – note, “delivered,” not just “written”. That “faith once delivered” is a
holistic deposit, comprising both the Scriptures and the correct interpretation of them as handed down. The
next section will show how the early Church Fathers understood this deposit and explicitly rejected the idea
of Scripture divorced from Tradition.
4.1 St. Ignatius of Antioch (d. c.107). Ignatius, a disciple of the Apostle John and bishop of Antioch, wrote
around AD 107 a series of letters on his way to martyrdom. In his epistles, Ignatius stresses the importance
of Church unity under bishops, and implicitly, the continuity of apostolic teaching. In his Letter to the
Smyrnaeans 8, he famously writes: “See that you all follow the bishop, even as Jesus Christ does the Father,
and the presbytery as you would the Apostles; and reverence the deacons, as being the institution of God. Let no
man do anything connected with the Church without the bishop. Let that be deemed a proper Eucharist, which
is administered either by the bishop, or by one to whom he has entrusted it… Wherever the bishop shall appear,
there let the multitude of the people also be; even as wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the Catholic Church.”.
This testimony, from one of the earliest post-New Testament writers, highlights apostolic authority
transmitted through bishops and a concrete view of the Church (“Catholic Church” is used here for the first
time in extant literature) as the locus of Christ’s presence. Ignatius is concerned with doctrinal purity (he
fights early Docetist heresies), but his remedy is not “read Scripture alone” — rather, it is stick to the bishop
and the universal Church. He assumes the teaching authority residing in the hierarchy protects the faith.
This is entirely in line with Orthodoxy’s view of Tradition residing in the Church’s life; it is alien to Sola
Scriptura. Ignatius does not reject Scripture; he frequently alludes to it and upholds its truths (he calls
Christ “our God” clearly, showing doctrinal fidelity). But he knows that schismatics and heretics often use
Scripture but do not have the right spirit or authority (he warns against those who won’t confess truths not
explicitly in the Gospel, like Jesus truly having flesh – Smyrnaeans 5). So he urges believers to heed the
Church’s authorized teachers. This sub-apostolic emphasis on ecclesial authority and unwritten tradition
(e.g. liturgical practice of the Eucharist) sets the tone for later Fathers.
4.2 St. Irenaeus of Lyons (c.130–c.202). A second-century giant, Irenaeus was a bishop in Gaul (Lyons) who
had earlier been formed in Smyrna by Polycarp, a disciple of John. In his seminal work Against Heresies (c.
180 AD), Irenaeus confronts the various Gnostic sects that were misusing Scripture and propagating secret
traditions. His defense of orthodoxy rests heavily on the concept of Apostolic Tradition kept in the Church
through succession. He explicitly rejects the idea that Scripture’s meaning can be obtained by anyone apart
from the Church’s Tradition.
Irenaeus observes that the heretics appeal to Scripture but in distorted ways: “When, however, they are
confuted from the Scriptures, they turn round and accuse these same Scriptures, as if they were not correct or
authoritative, and [assert] that the truth cannot be found from them by those who are ignorant of Tradition…
(claiming) that the truth was not delivered by means of written documents, but viva voce (by living voice)…
Then, again, when we refer them to that Tradition which originates from the Apostles, which is preserved by
means of the succession of presbyters in the Churches, they object to Tradition, saying they are wiser… It comes
to this, therefore: these men do now consent neither to Scripture nor to Tradition.”. In this passage (Against
Heresies 3.2), Irenaeus is describing the Gnostic attitude: they claim to have a secret insight beyond
Scripture, and when refuted by Scripture, they dismiss the Church’s public Tradition. Importantly, Irenaeus
holds up both Scripture and Apostolic Tradition as authoritative (he uses both to battle the Gnostics). The
Gnostics lose on both counts because (a) the Church’s Scriptures are true and consistent, and (b) the
Church’s Tradition (handed down in bishop successions) guards the correct interpretation. Irenaeus then
makes one of the earliest appeals to the succession of bishops from the Apostles, especially highlighting the
Church of Rome, to which “every Church must agree, because of its preeminent authority,” enumerating
the succession from Peter and Paul down to his day (Against Heresies 3.3.1-3). The key point: true doctrine
can be verified by tracing it through the historic continuity of the Church from the Apostles. Heretics like
Valentinus and Marcion, who appeared later and deviated, cannot trace their teaching to the Apostles.
In a profoundly insightful passage, Against Heresies 3.4.1, Irenaeus declares: “Since, therefore, we have such
proofs, we do not need to seek among others the truth which is easily obtained from the Church; for the Apostles,
like a rich man depositing his money in a bank, lodged in her hands most copiously all things pertaining to the
truth. So that every man, whosoever will, can draw from her the water of life. For she is the entrance to life; all
others are thieves and robbers. On this account, we are bound to avoid them, but to choose with the utmost
diligence the things pertaining to the Church, and to lay hold of the tradition of the truth. For suppose there
arise a dispute relative to some important question among us, should we not have recourse to the most ancient
Churches with which the Apostles held constant intercourse, and learn from them what is clear and certain
regarding the issue? What if the Apostles had not left writings? Would it not be necessary to follow the
course of the Tradition which they handed down to those to whom they committed the Churches?”*
(emphasis added). This passage is gold. Irenaeus frankly imagines a scenario where (counter-factually) the
Apostles left no written Scripture. In that case, how would Christians know the truth? Irenaeus answers: we
would have to rely on the Traditions handed down in the churches by the Apostles through their successors.
This thought experiment proves a fortiori that Scripture is not an absolute necessity for the transmission of
the faith – it is a great advantage to have (and we do have it), but the mode of preserving the faith is
fundamentally the living Church. Irenaeus says the Apostles deposited “all things pertaining to truth” into
the Church (the image is of a bank deposit), from which all may draw life-giving doctrine. Those who
separate from the Church in search of esoteric knowledge are likened to thieves. He explicitly exhorts
Christians to cling to “the tradition of the truth” learned from the ancient apostolic churches.
Nothing could be farther from a Scripture-alone approach. Irenaeus does not pit Scripture against Tradition;
he has a both-and: Scripture (which he calls “the writings of the Apostles”) itself belongs to Tradition and
must be understood within the Church. Indeed, he blames heretics for dismembering the Scriptures from
their context. In one famous analogy, Irenaeus says the heretics take the mosaic of King (Christ) in Scripture
and rearrange the tiles to form the image of a fox, by reading verses out of context and disregarding the
overarching “rule of faith” (the creed-like summary of apostolic teaching). Orthodox interpretation, he says,
“regards the order and connection of the Scriptures” and fits with the consistent Tradition of the Church.
Irenaeus’s testimony is devastating to Sola Scriptura. He literally asks, if no Scriptures existed, wouldn’t
Tradition be necessary? The clear implication: Tradition is not secondary to Scripture for him; it is the
matrix in which Scripture is truly received. The canon of Scripture itself was not yet fully fixed in Irenaeus’
time (he is one of the first to list most NT books), so the idea of Scripture as a materially sufficient repository
of all doctrine would have been strange to him. He saw the Church’s teaching (the regula fidei) as the
interpretive key and guard.
4.3 St. Athanasius of Alexandria (c.296–373). Moving to the 4th century, Athanasius, the great defender of
Nicaea against Arianism, is sometimes quoted by Protestants because in one of his early works (Contra
Gentes / De Incarnatione), he remarks that “the holy and inspired Scriptures are fully sufficient for the
proclamation of truth”. We must understand Athanasius in context. By “Scriptures” Athanasius referred to
the Church’s Scripture, which already includes the apostolic understanding as clarified in the Church. He
certainly does not mean that one can ignore the Church or councils. In fact, Athanasius spent his life
fighting those who used Scripture alone (the Arians) but outside the Church’s traditional understanding.
The Arians quoted many Bible verses to assert that the Son was a creature. Athanasius responded by
explicating the Traditional reading of those Scriptures and by leaning on the Nicene Council’s authority. In
his Defense of the Nicene Definition, Athanasius argues that the Council’s use of the non-biblical term
homoousios (of one essence) was necessary to safeguard the true sense of Scripture against misinterpretation.
He didn’t say, “we don’t need the council, just quote verses”; he said, in effect, the council captured the
correct Apostolic Tradition that interprets the verses. Athanasius also wrote, “But what is the use of laboring
the point, when the testimony of the ancient bishops is sufficient, which they have loudly given by their
writings? For this is the end of faith, that in the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit one Godhead and equal honor is
believed in” (Ad Afros 6). He appeals to the inherited faith (“testimony of the ancient bishops”) as
normative. Moreover, Athanasius in his famous 39th Festal Letter (367) delineated the canon of New
Testament books precisely as received in the Church, and he remarked that these are the sources from which
“the waters of salvation, flowing in the Church, quench the thirst of her children” – again a vivid image of
the Church as the reservoir of Scripture. Athanasius never advocates private interpretation or any principle
resembling Sola Scriptura. Instead, he says “let us look at the very tradition, teaching, and faith of the
Catholic Church from the beginning, which the Lord gave, the Apostles preached, and the Fathers kept” (Letter
to Serapion, 1:28). This sums up the Orthodox approach: tradition, teaching, and faith of the Church from
the beginning, given by the Lord, preached by Apostles, kept by Fathers – that is the standard.
4.4 St. Cyril of Jerusalem (c.313–386). Cyril, famed for his Catechetical Lectures, taught new converts in
Jerusalem’s Church. In his Catechetical Lecture 5 (On Faith and Creed), Cyril says: “Concerning the divine
and holy mysteries of the Faith, not even a casual statement must be delivered without the Holy Scriptures; nor
be drawn aside by mere probabilities or the artifices of argument. Do not believe me simply, unless you receive
the proof of what I say from Holy Scriptures. For this salvation which we believe depends not on ingenious
reasoning but on demonstration of Holy Scriptures.”. At first glance, Cyril here sounds like a Sola Scriptura
advocate (“do not believe me unless you see it in Scripture”). However, one must note that Cyril is a bishop
of the Church upholding the traditional faith; he’s not encouraging theological novelty but guarding against
it. In fact, he begins his lectures by instructing the catechumens to hold firmly to the tradition they are
receiving: “Learn also diligently, and from the Church, what are the proper and principal books of the New
and Old Testament, and have nothing to do with the apocryphal writings. … And for the articles of the faith,
if there be delivered to you by me any discourse which is not supported by the Sacred Scriptures, do not believe
it.” (Catechetical Lecture 4:17). We see that Cyril’s approach is to tie every element of the Church’s Creed
and sacraments to Scripture, to show the divine authority behind the Church’s teachings. He is not saying
Scripture is the only authority – he, as a bishop, is clearly exercising teaching authority – but he models that
authentic authority in the Church must be in accord with Scripture. This is a very Orthodox approach:
Scripture permeates all true teaching (indeed the liturgy and sacraments), and if some teacher were to
propose a novelty not in Scripture, he should be rejected. But note: for Cyril, the framework of
interpretation is still the Church’s defined faith. In Lecture 5, he then proceeds to expound the Creed line by
line with copious Scriptural proofs. He’s effectively doing what we call catechesis: handing on the Creed
(which is part of Tradition) and demonstrating that each clause is rooted in Scripture. This is not Sola
Scriptura in the Protestant sense; it is Scripture interpreting Tradition and Tradition interpreting Scripture
hand in hand. Cyril elsewhere emphasizes the authority of the Church’s teaching: “Keep that tradition
which thou hast received, and wherein thou hast been instructed, knowing of whom thou hast learned it…Even
though an angel from heaven preach unto you any gospel other than that which ye have received, let him be
accursed” (Catech. 4:16, quoting Gal. 1:8). So Cyril upholds Apostolic Tradition as inviolable (the Galatians
verse applied to any deviation from what the Church has already delivered).
Thus, when Cyril says not even a casual remark without Scripture, he assumes that the content of faith has
already been traditionally delivered, and now it must be carefully explained through Scripture. He is actually
arming the new believers against unscriptural innovations by grounding them in the Bible as understood in
the Church. Orthodox theology likewise always seeks to show the Scriptural basis for dogmas (e.g., the
Nicene fathers used both Scripture and the tradition of baptismal creeds to formulate dogma). Cyril’s
practice does not resemble the Protestant paradigm of individuals deriving doctrine de novo from Scripture;
rather, it’s the church teacher confirming the inherited faith by Scripture. Importantly, Cyril says the
Church is the pillar and bulwark of truth and that one should learn from the Church which books are
canonical, implying the Church’s authority to define the canon and guard the deposit.
4.5 St. Basil the Great (329–379). Basil, one of the Cappadocian Fathers, explicitly speaks about the value of
unwritten traditions. In his treatise On the Holy Spirit (ch. 27, no. 66), Basil defends the doxology “with the
Holy Spirit” used in liturgy, which some claimed lacked scriptural warrant. Basil responds by enumerating
many unwritten practices that are essential to the faith: “Of the dogmas and kerygmas preserved in the
Church, some we possess from written teaching and some we have received delivered to us “in a mystery” by the
apostolic tradition. Both of these in relation to true religion have the same force. And these no one will gainsay;
no one, at all events, who is even moderately versed in the institutions of the Church. For were we to attempt to
reject such customs as have no written authority, as being of little importance, we should unwittingly injure
the Gospel in its very vitals; or rather, reduce our public definition (kerygma) to a mere term and nothing
more. For instance, (to take the first and most common thing) who has taught us in writing to sign with the
sign of the cross those who have trusted in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ? What writing has taught us to
turn to the East in the prayer? … the words of invocation in the change of the Eucharistic bread and of the Cup
of blessing, which of the saints has left to us in writing? For we are not, as is well known, content with what the
Apostle or the Gospel has recorded, but we add other words, both before and after, as being of great importance
to the mystery, and these we derive from unwritten teaching.* It is the reason, too, for our blessing of the
water of baptism and the oil of the chrism…** (and so on)… The Apostles and Fathers who from the
beginning prescribed certain rites to the Church, knew how to preserve the dignity of the mysteries by
silence and secrecy.… In sum, Basil concludes: “Time will fail me if I attempt to enumerate all the unwritten
mysteries of the Church. … While the unwritten traditions are so many and their bearing on “the mystery of
godliness” is so important, can they refuse to allow us a single word [‘with the Spirit’] which has come down
to us from the Fathers? … For I hold it Apostolic to abide by the unwritten traditions. ‘I praise you,’ says St.
Paul, ‘that you remember me in all things and keep the traditions just as I delivered them to you’ (1 Cor.
11:2).”* (emphasis added). This is an exceptionally clear patristic witness against the idea that only Scripture
has binding authority. Basil is emphatic that many crucial Christian practices (the sign of the cross, facing
East to pray, the baptismal rites, the Eucharistic prayers, etc.) come not from Scripture but from apostolic
Tradition, and he insists that unwritten traditions have equal force (the same authority) as written ones
newadvent.org
. He even warns that rejecting unwritten customs as unimportant would “injure the Gospel in its vitals”!
This is because the Gospel is not just words on a page; it’s the whole mystery of godliness lived in the Church.
Basil appeals to 2 Thess. 2:15 and 1 Cor. 11:2 as scriptural warrant for adhering to traditions. He explicitly
says I hold it as apostolic to abide also by unwritten traditions. Basil thus utterly repudiates the concept of
Nuda Scriptura. For him, the Apostolic Tradition is partly written (Scripture) and partly unwritten (various
liturgical and doctrinal elements), but both come from the same Apostles and one Spirit, and therefore both
are authoritative for the Church.
Protestant apologists sometimes respond that these unwritten traditions Basil references are “practices, not
doctrines.” But Basil includes in unwritten tradition the very epiklesis (invocation of the Holy Spirit) in the
Eucharist—something directly tied to the doctrine of the Eucharistic sacrifice and real presence—and even
the Trinitarian doxology phrasing “with the Spirit,” which had theological implications (Pneumatomachi
controversy). He calls them dogmas and mysteries. So Basil’s witness shows that the early Church did not
confine authoritative teaching to Scripture text alone. The lex orandi (law of prayer) of the Church, much of
it unwritten, was considered normative. Basil’s words “who has taught us in writing to sign with the cross”
highlight that a core Christian practice—tracing the cross over our bodies as a sign of blessing—has no
biblical prooftext but is undeniably apostolic in origin. This remains an Orthodox practice (and is even
retained by many Protestants, albeit without realizing it’s an extrabiblical tradition).
4.6 St. John Chrysostom (c.349–407). Chrysostom, the golden-mouthed preacher of Constantinople, is
another Father often esteemed by all. We already cited his comment on 2 Thess. 2:15: “It is manifest that
they did not deliver all things by Epistle, but many things also unwritten, and in like manner both the one
and the other are worthy of belief. So, let us regard the Tradition of the Church also as worthy of belief. Is it a
Tradition? Seek no further.”. This statement, from his Homily on 2 Thessalonians, reinforces exactly the
Orthodox stance: if something is a genuine Tradition of the Church, it carries authority and one should not
demand a Scripture verse for it. Chrysostom himself saturates his homilies with Scripture, yet he
acknowledges that not everything came via epistle. In another text (Homily on 2 Timothy 2:2), commenting
on Paul’s instruction to transmit doctrine to faithful men, Chrysostom remarks how Paul entrusts Timothy
with teachings to pass on, illustrating the principle of Tradition in action. He also said regarding 1 Cor.
11:34 (where Paul says “the rest I will set in order when I come”): “From this it is clear that he had delivered
many things to them without writing… just so he ordained in many other matters, saying, ‘the rest will I set in
order when I come.’ Wherefore we ought to hold fast the traditions of the Church, which have been handed
down to us. For, unwritten tradition is as worthy of credit as the written.**” (Homily on 1 Corinthians
11:34). This again flatly contradicts Sola Scriptura.
Chrysostom, like Basil, also emphasizes the importance of the Church as the guardian of truth. In his homily
on 2 Peter 1:20 (“no prophecy of Scripture is of any private interpretation”), he warns against individuals
interpreting prophecy by themselves apart from the ecclesial understanding. He frequently upholds the
authority of councils and the inherited faith (for example, he attributes the Nicene Creed to the guidance of
the Spirit). So while Chrysostom loved Scripture and called it a “precious treasure,” he did so as a
churchman who sees the Scriptures within the bosom of the Church’s Tradition.
4.7 St. Vincent of Lérins (d. c.445). Vincent, a Western Father (Gaul), penned the Commonitorium (434
AD) to offer a general rule to distinguish true faith from heresy. His famous canon is that we hold that faith
which has been believed “everywhere, always, and by all” (quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus). He
states that since the canon of Scripture is complete and sufficient, the key is in its right interpretation – and
that must be governed by the universality, antiquity, and consensus of the Church. If a novel interpretation
arises, one checks it against the ancient consent of the holy fathers. Vincent writes, “Here, perhaps, someone
may ask: Since the canon of Scripture is complete, what need is there to join to its authority the interpretation
of the Church? Because, indeed, owing to the depth of Holy Scripture, all do not accept it in one and the same
sense, but one understands its words in one way, another in another way… Therefore, because of the intricacies
of error, it is very necessary that the rule for the right understanding of the prophets and apostles should be
framed in accordance with the standard of ecclesiastical and Catholic interpretation.” This directly confronts
the potential chaos of private judgment on Scripture. Vincent sees Scripture and Church interpretation as
two sides of the coin: the sufficiency of Scripture depends on a proper interpretive tradition. Elsewhere he
says, if some new doctrine arises that contradicts the universal tradition, “let it be anathema.” Vincent’s
approach is highly regarded in Orthodoxy as a methodological articulation of the role of Tradition in
interpreting Scripture.
4.8 The Ecumenical Councils and the Synodikon. The Seven Ecumenical Councils (325–787 AD) are the
pinnacle of the patristic era’s exercise of authority. These councils did not base their decisions on Scripture
alone but on Scripture as understood in and by Tradition, often explicitly citing earlier Fathers, liturgical
phrases, and the consensus of the past. For example, the Council of Nicaea (325) introduced the term
homoousios (consubstantial) not found in Scripture to safeguard the Scriptural truth of Christ’s deity. The
Council of Ephesus (431) affirmed Mary as Theotokos (God-bearer) to protect the doctrine of Christ’s one
Person, using a term not explicit in Scripture but rooted in traditional usage. The Council of Chalcedon
(451) produced the Definition of Faith using technical terminology like mia hypostasis (one person) and dyo
physeis (two natures), again synthesizing Scripture and Tradition. In all these cases, the councils explicitly
portrayed themselves as upholding the ancient faith. Chalcedon, for instance, said it “follows the Holy
Fathers” and that it “teaches this faith which from the beginning has been handed down (traditioned) to us.”
The Seventh Ecumenical Council (Nicaea II, 787) is especially relevant because it dealt with the legitimacy of
holy icons, an issue where the “written” prohibition of images (in the Ten Commandments) was being
pitted against the “unwritten” tradition of the Church to use images in worship. The iconoclasts argued
from a sola Scriptura-like stance (“Scripture forbids images; your practice is mere tradition”). The Orthodox
defenders, like St. John of Damascus and the council fathers, responded with a holistic theology that
included the incarnation of Christ (making the depiction of the invisible God possible) and the authority of
Tradition. The council, in its formal decrees, not only vindicated icons with Scriptural arguments, but also
issued strong statements about Tradition. One of the anathemas from Nicaea II reads: “If anyone rejects any
written or unwritten Tradition of the Church, let him be anathema.”. This is a direct canonical
condemnation of the principle that one could discard unwritten apostolic traditions. The council fathers
“accepted the written and unwritten traditions” of the Church, including the tradition of iconography. The
Synodikon of Orthodoxy (a document read annually after Nicaea II, c.843) triumphantly proclaims: “This is
the faith of the Apostles, this is the faith of the Fathers, this is the faith of the Orthodox… Furthermore, we
receive and confirm the Councils of the Holy Fathers and their traditions and writings”. It then pronounces
“Anathema to those who reject the ecumenical councils and the holy tradition of the Church”. Notably:
“Anathema to those who…reject the traditions of the Church, whether written or unwritten”. There can be no
more explicit rejection of Sola Scriptura. The entire Church, in council, binds the faithful to hold fast both
Scripture and Tradition. This is precisely in line with 2 Thess. 2:15, elevated to a dogmatic requirement.
The Ecumenical Councils also illustrate how the Church could not function on Sola Scriptura alone. For
example, the Arian controversy saw both sides quoting Scripture; what gave the Orthodox the upper hand
was the constant Tradition – the unwritten rule of faith confessing Christ as true God from true God – and
the authority of the gathered episcopate to definitively exclude the Arian interpretation. If Sola Scriptura
were the sole principle, the dispute might never have been resolved, as Scripture texts can be arrayed and
explained in different ways. The councils, guided by the Spirit, authoritatively interpreted Scripture in line
with Tradition and shut down heterodox readings. This demonstrates the Church’s self-understanding: not
sola scriptura, but Scriptura et Traditio, in Ecclesia.
Therefore, the patristic and conciliar consensus is clear: from Ignatius and Irenaeus through Basil and
Chrysostom to the councils, the Church Fathers unanimously upheld the binding authority of Holy
Tradition. They vigorously opposed those who relied on private interpretation or who tried to ignore the
received teachings of the Church. They saw the Church – not the isolated reader – as the proper home of
Scripture. Indeed, St. Augustine (though a Western Father, d.430, whose voice Orthodoxy also respects)
famously said, “I would not believe the Gospel had not the authority of the Catholic Church moved me.”. He
recognized that our confidence in what Scripture is and what it means depends on the Church’s authority.
In sum, Sola Scriptura finds no ally in the Fathers. To the contrary, the Fathers explicitly reject the notion
that Scripture, pulled away from Tradition, could serve as the sole rule of faith.
5.1 Holy Tradition: The Life of the Holy Spirit in the Church, Not “Human Traditions.” First, Orthodoxy
carefully distinguishes Holy Tradition from mere “traditions of men.” When we speak of Tradition
(paradosis), we mean the apostolic Tradition – the faith, practice, and life imparted by Jesus to the Apostles
and by the Apostles to their successors under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. It is, as Vladimir Lossky put it,
“the life of the Holy Spirit in the Church.” It is not static, dead customs, nor later accretions contrary to the
apostolic deposit. It is the continuity of the Church in truth. Human traditions (small-t), like local practices
or disciplinary rules, can be good or bad and can change. Jesus indeed condemned Pharisaic traditions that
nullified God’s word (Mark 7:8-13). The Orthodox Church likewise rejects traditio humana that would
distort or overshadow God’s commands. But Holy Tradition is something else entirely: it is one with
Scripture, differing only in mode. The New Testament itself was a product of Tradition (the Church decided
the canon, the authors were transmitting what they received). St. Paul commanded the Thessalonians to
shun brethren walking “not according to the tradition” received (2 Thess. 3:6), clearly referring to
authoritative apostolic instructions. Thus, when Protestants hear “Tradition” and think of medieval abuses
or non-biblical doctrines, Orthodoxy asks them to consider that Holy Tradition and Holy Scripture have the
same source – the Holy Spirit – and together form one sacred deposit of faith (1 Tim. 6:20, 2 Tim. 1:14). We
differentiate Tradition (singular, the overall apostolic faith) from traditions (particular practices).
For example, the Nicene Creed is part of Holy Tradition – it isn’t a verbatim quote of Scripture, but it
encapsulates Scripture’s truth as understood in the Church. The canon of Scripture itself (which books
belong) is Holy Tradition. The liturgy is part of Tradition, carrying theology in hymns and prayers (e.g., the
epiclesis Basil mentioned). The decisions of Ecumenical Councils are Tradition. None of these “add” new
revelation; they explicate or protect the one revelation given in Christ and the Spirit. Orthodox Tradition is
thus not an addition to Scripture, but its context and correct interpretation. As the late Patriarch Diodoros
of Jerusalem wrote, “Holy Tradition is the continuous work of the Holy Spirit in the Church. It does not oppose
Holy Scripture – it lives and interprets Scripture.”
5.2 Do the Fathers Contradict Each Other (or Tradition)? It is true that among the hundreds of Church
Fathers, one can find differing opinions on various minor matters or speculative theology. The Orthodox
Church never claimed every sentence of every Father is infallible. The Fathers themselves would be the first
to admit they could err as individuals. However, the Orthodox approach discerns a harmony in the chorus of
the Fathers on all essential points of faith. This harmony is called consensus patrum, the consensus of the
Fathers. Not every Father’s work is of equal weight; some had idiosyncratic ideas (Origen’s subordinationist
tendencies, for example, or Tertullian’s later Montanism). But the Church, guided by the Spirit, ultimately
sifted and retained what was catholic (universal) and rejected what was heterodox. This was achieved
through Councils, reception by the faithful, and the test of time. St. Vincent of Lérins explicitly taught that
if a Father or even a particular local council says something that does not align with the universal Tradition,
that particular teaching should be set aside. For instance, Origen’s more extreme speculations (like universal
restoration of demons) were eventually condemned; they were not considered part of Holy Tradition.
Thus, when Protestants argue “the Fathers contradict, so Tradition is unreliable,” they set up a straw man by
assuming Tradition means an amalgam of all patristic opinions. In reality, Tradition is the coherent core of
truth present in the Fathers’ overall witness. The Orthodox Church appeals not to this or that Father in
isolation, but to the consensus that emerges especially in the Ecumenical Councils and in the uninterrupted
teaching of the Church’s worship (lex orandi) and catechesis. The Nicene Creed, for example, distilled the
consensus of the earlier Fathers against Arius; later Fathers all adhered to Nicaea. So there is strong
continuity. On the fundamental dogmas—Trinity, Christology, sacraments, etc.—the Fathers are remarkably
unified across centuries and cultures. Where there were controversies, the Church resolved them with an
authoritative judgment, which then became part of Tradition.
Orthodoxy thus acknowledges that not every patristic writing equals “Tradition”; only those in line with the
church-wide faith. To use an Orthodox analogy, the Fathers are like participants in a council meeting: they
discuss and even disagree at times, but ultimately the consensus fidelium (consensus of the faithful) under the
Spirit’s guidance shows what is to be received. The end result is a consistent Tradition. If one plucks phrases
out of context, one might manufacture “contradictions,” but approached holistically, the Fathers present
one Faith. Protestants themselves implicitly affirm this when they claim the Fathers taught sola fide or sola
scriptura—they selectively quote to find a “patristic consensus” on their terms. But as shown above, the
actual consensus of the Fathers contradicts sola scriptura.
5.3 Did the Church “Corrupt” the Gospel with Tradition? Protestant reformers accused the medieval
Catholic Church of corrupting doctrine via man-made traditions (e.g., indulgences, papal supremacy, etc.).
The Eastern Orthodox position often agrees that certain medieval Latin innovations were indeed deviations
from ancient Tradition. However, Orthodoxy holds that it (the Eastern Church) did not partake in those
distortions, having maintained continuity with the early Church. If a Protestant fears that “Tradition” leads
to corrupt additions like Purgatory or Marian indulgences, the Orthodox response is: true Tradition did not
produce those beliefs—those are Western medieval developments not accepted by the Eastern Church.
Orthodoxy distinguishes between Holy Tradition (unchanging apostolic faith) and traditions of men that
can creep in if a Church falls away from conciliar accountability. The Reformation was a reaction largely to
Western medieval issues; the Eastern Church had no sale of indulgences, no doctrine of papal infallibility, no
recently invented dogmas like the Immaculate Conception of Mary (1854) or novel juridical theories of
atonement. The Orthodox Church claims to have preserved the apostolic Tradition without subtraction or
addition.
Protestants might then ask, what about prayers to saints, icons, etc.—aren’t those “additions”? The
Orthodox reply is that these practices are rooted in early Christian practice and flow from doctrinal truths
(the communion of saints, the incarnation). They are not corruptions but organic parts of the one faith (as
shown by archaeology and patristics: e.g., 3rd-century Christian art with images, prayers for the departed
found in 2nd-century inscriptions, etc.). What Protestants label “corrupt traditions” often stem from
misunderstanding their theological basis or conflating them with pagan practices. When understood in light
of Holy Tradition, veneration of saints or relics, for instance, is consistent with belief in the Resurrection
and the honor due to God’s work in His holy ones (2 Kings 13:21 shows a dead man revived by contact with
Elisha’s bones—indicating God can work through relics; likewise, the Acts 19:12 record of handkerchiefs
from Paul healing people prefigures relic veneration). So the Orthodox Church defends these as part of Holy
Tradition, not alien additions.
5.4 Can Councils Err? A core Protestant claim (enshrined in the 1646 Westminster Confession, for example)
is that all councils may err and have erred, so ultimate appeal must be to Scripture alone. Orthodoxy
responds by delineating levels of authority: Ecumenical Councils (those the Church as a whole has received
as such) are believed to be protected by the Holy Spirit from error in their dogmatic decrees. This is because
the council is the voice of the Church Universal (represented by bishops from everywhere, confirming the
faith held ubique, semper, ab omnibus). When the Church, in an ecumenical council, definitively pronounces
on a matter of faith, Orthodoxy holds this to be infallible — not by any intrinsic power of the bishops, but
by the promise of Christ to guide His Church into all truth (John 16:13) and to be with her always (Matt.
28:20), and that the gates of hell will not prevail (Matt. 16:18). If an ecumenical council could formally teach
heresy, then the entire Church would have defected, making Christ’s promises null.
Now, indeed, not every council claiming to be ecumenical was true (e.g., the Robber Council of Ephesus
449, or the iconoclast council of Hieria 754). How do we know? Because they were later condemned and not
received by the Church as a whole. Orthodoxy believes the Holy Spirit eventually safeguards the truth by
raising another council to overturn a false one, as happened with the 4th Ecumenical Council (Chalcedon
451) overturning the Robber Synod, and the 7th Ecumenical Council (787) overturning the iconoclast
council. So, while local or even general councils could initially err, the Ecumenical Councils that stand in
Tradition are confirmed by their fruits—unity in truth and enduring acceptance. Protestants accept at least
the first four councils implicitly (they hold Nicene-Trinitarian and Chalcedonian Christology). By doing so,
they tacitly acknowledge that those councils did not err in dogma. So the disagreement is often selective:
some Protestants will say, “Councils can err, and indeed post-Chalcedon they did (e.g., 7th Council
endorsing icons, which some Protestants disagree with).” But this becomes a case of private judgment
overruling the collective Church. The Orthodox answer: either you trust that the Holy Spirit guided the
Church in council or you put yourself above the Church. Historically, the acceptance of the first four
councils was easy for magisterial Protestants because those councils’ teachings are plainly biblical (Trinity,
Christ’s two natures). But they balk at later councils like 787 on icons because their interpretive tradition
(influenced by puritanical or iconoclastic leanings) doesn’t agree. Orthodoxy would challenge them: on what
consistent basis do you accept Nicaea (325) but not Nicaea II (787)? If Scripture interpreted by the Church
led to truth in one case, why not in the other? Indeed, icon veneration has strong theological support (as
summarized in the decree of 787). The Protestant had to claim the Church apostatized or at least fell into
serious error sometime after the early centuries. But to the Orthodox, that contradicts Christ’s promise of
the Spirit’s abiding presence. It’s also historically implausible to pinpoint when the supposed general
apostasy happened: by the 4th century the Church had the veneration of saints and relics; by the 6th,
liturgies and prayers for departed; by the 7th, icon devotion widely. If one says “the church started to err in
the 4th century,” then even the canon of Scripture and the Trinity doctrine (formed then) would be suspect.
If one says “7th or 8th century,” then one must account for the unanimous willingness of Christians to
embrace icons (which they did – even the Carolingians in the West only partially and temporarily resisted).
The Orthodox view is simply that the Holy Spirit never abandoned the Church; thus no Ecumenical
Council can permanently err. Individual bishops or local synods may, but not the universal Church conciliar
decision.
5.5 The Church as the Interpreter of Scripture. Protestants object that Orthodoxy makes the Church
“above” Scripture. We answer: the Church is not above Scripture, but neither is Scripture above the Church,
as if the two could be in conflict. Rather, the Scripture is the Church’s book – given by God to the
community of faith and rightly understood only in that community. The pillar and foundation of truth is
the Church (1 Tim. 3:15), not Scripture in isolation. This does not degrade Scripture; it situates it in its
proper environment. An analogy: The U.S. Constitution is an authoritative text, but it requires a Supreme
Court to interpret it and an enduring political community to apply it; the text doesn’t self-enforce or
self-interpret. Similarly, Scripture is infallible, but our understanding of it is fallible unless guided by the
Spirit in the Church. Protestant objections that Fathers or Councils contradict Scripture usually arise from a
different interpretation of Scripture. For example, a Protestant might say, “The Fathers taught baptismal
regeneration or Eucharistic real presence – that contradicts the plain meaning of justification by faith or ‘do
this in remembrance of Me’.” Orthodox response: those sacramental doctrines don’t contradict Scripture;
they contradict a particular Protestant reading of Scripture. The Fathers’ interpretation is actually more
consistent with the totality of Scripture (e.g., John 3:5 “born of water and Spirit” and 1 Pet. 3:21 “baptism
now saves you” support baptismal regeneration; 1 Cor. 11:29 speaks of not profaning the Body of the Lord
in Communion, supporting real presence). Thus what Protestants think are “corrupt traditions” often have
direct biblical basis that Protestant theology reinterpreted or ignored.
Finally, consider Jesus’s promise of the Holy Spirit to the Apostles in John 16:13: “When the Spirit of truth
comes, He will guide you into all the truth.” Orthodox believe this promise was not just for the immediate
Apostles in writing the New Testament, but for the Church as the Apostolic college continued in their
successors. The Spirit’s guidance is an ongoing charism in the Church’s Tradition. To claim that the Spirit
guided the Apostles to write Scripture but then essentially left the Church to fall into darkness until Luther
is to severely truncate Christ’s promise and envision a failed church for ~1400 years – something Scripture
itself refutes (Matt. 16:18). It would mean the “gates of Hades” did prevail for a time. Orthodoxy cannot
accept that. Instead, we see a golden thread of truth through every age, sometimes embattled but never
broken – from Pentecost to Nicaea to today.
6.1 How the Canon Came to Be. During the apostolic era and immediately after, the Christian community
produced many writings: Gospels, Acts, epistles, apocalypses, etc. By the end of the 1st century, some of
these (our 27 NT books) were recognized and read widely, but a formal canon was not yet fixed. Over the
2nd and 3rd centuries, the Church was in consensus on most of the New Testament core (the four Gospels,
Acts, Paul’s letters), but there remained disputes on the fringe: Hebrews, Revelation, James, 2 Peter, Jude,
2-3 John were questioned in some regions; conversely other writings like the Epistle of Barnabas, The
Shepherd of Hermas, the Didache, or the Wisdom of Solomon were considered Scripture by some Fathers
and churches. There was no single, self-evident table of contents that dropped from heaven. Eventually,
through Tradition crystallizing, the Church reached a consensus. Key mile-markers: St. Athanasius’s Festal
Letter (367) gave the exact 27-book NT list; regional councils like Hippo (393) and Carthage (397) in North
Africa, and later the East (Council of Trullo, 692), promulgated similar canons for the NT (with slight
differences on OT deuterocanon). By the 5th century, the issue was effectively settled in the East; in the West,
it took a bit longer but by early medieval times they followed suit. Importantly, the authority by which the
canon was settled was the authority of the Church. No voice from heaven publicly identified Scripture’s
extent; it was the Church’s bishops in council discerning and declaring. They used criteria like apostolic
origin, orthodox content (rule of faith), and liturgical usage. Each of those criteria is inherently tied to
Tradition: Apostolic origin was often established by Tradition (e.g., Mark’s Gospel was accepted as reflecting
Peter’s teaching by Tradition); orthodox content meant consistency with what the Church already taught
(regula fidei), implying a standard outside the text to judge the text; liturgical use meant it was read in the
churches by tradition.
Thus, the canon is a prime example of extra-biblical authority deciding a matter of foundational
importance. The Bible as a bounded collection does not self-define in Scripture. One cannot go
chapter-and-verse to prove Mark is Scripture but the Gospel of Thomas is not – there is no verse that says
that. One must appeal to how the early church viewed those documents. That is Tradition.
If Sola Scriptura were true, one would expect Scripture itself to list or at least identify its own books, since
that is such a necessary piece of information for a Christian trying to do theology by “Scripture alone.” But
Scripture doesn’t. The closest it comes is perhaps 2 Peter 3:16 referring to Paul’s letters as “Scriptures,” but
Peter doesn’t list them, and ironically 2 Peter was a contested book too. So we have a scenario where, to
believe in Sola Scriptura, a Protestant must first accept an extra-scriptural tradition (the canon list) as true.
This is logically incoherent or at least severely problematic. It is like an argument that says “the only reliable
source of information is Encyclopedia X,” but how do we know Encyclopedia X’s content list is accurate
unless some external trustworthy process validated it?
The usual Protestant rejoinders are instructive: some argue that the Holy Spirit led the individual believer or
community to intuitively recognize Scripture. This is essentially Kruger’s self-authenticating model we
addressed (§2.2). But if that were so, why did it take 300 years with many disagreements? Why did great
saints like Gregory Nazianzus or Cyril of Jerusalem initially question Revelation’s place, or include books
Protestants now exclude? If the Holy Spirit simply zapped true believers with canonical discernment, the
early church’s canon lists would have all been uniform and immediate, which they were not. The eventual
unity came via Church authority (councils and consensus), not through private epiphanies.
Another rejoinder: some say the Church was not defining canon by its authority but merely discovering it,
akin to how scientists discover physical laws. Even if so, that “discovery” was a function of historical process
in the Church, not of Scripture reading itself. A book’s canonicity cannot be discovered by reading it in
isolation; it must be weighed in context of usage and apostolic origin, etc. Those are tests outside the text’s
four corners. So either way, Sola Scriptura is dependent on something outside Scripture.
The Protestant may finally claim that canon is an “artifact” of providence and not a doctrine, so it doesn’t
violate Sola Scriptura to accept it. But determining the canon certainly is a doctrinal decision with huge
implications (for example, whether you include the deuterocanon affects doctrines like prayers for the dead,
as 2 Maccabees supports). More fundamentally, if God intended Sola Scriptura, He would have made the
Scripture’s scope absolutely clear internally. He did not. Instead, He entrusted the “oracles of God” (Rom.
3:2) to the Church, as the living community (just as in the Old Testament, the Jewish priesthood guarded
the scrolls and decided the canon of Tanakh by their tradition). Thus, logic demands that an authoritative
Tradition at least at the level of canon-setting is necessary.
6.2 The Inconsistency of Accepting the Canon While Rejecting the Church’s Authority. The early
Protestant Reformers, to their credit, realized this problem to some extent. Luther famously felt free to
question the canonicity of certain books (calling James “an epistle of straw,” wondering about Esther and
Revelation, etc.), precisely because once he made the individual conscience supreme under sola scriptura, he
could re-evaluate the canon tradition itself. However, his more cautious followers reaffirmed the traditional
canon (at least of the NT; they removed the OT deuterocanon). Still, even great Reformed scholastics like
John Owen in the 17th century admitted that we cannot prove the Bible’s inspiration or trustworthiness
from the Bible’s own words alone — ultimately, they appealed to the internal witness of the Spirit to the
believer’s heart that Scripture is God’s Word. But this subjective route yields no objective canon; it becomes
sola experientia (scripture authenticated by experience).
Orthodoxy points out the historical anachronism: there was no fixed New Testament canon in the very
centuries when the Church established most of its doctrines (2nd–4th centuries). Those Christians operated
with Tradition as their guide and a fluid set of Scriptures. If sola scriptura were necessary, the Church could
not have taught true doctrine until after 397 AD when the canon got settled – yet by then, the Church had
defeated numerous heresies and formulated the Creed. Clearly, sola scriptura was not the principle at play;
Apostolic Tradition was. Also, the canon that Protestants today use (especially NT) was settled by Orthodox
Catholic bishops—so if those bishops were trustworthy on that, why not on other teachings they espoused
unanimously (like the real presence of Christ in Eucharist, regenerative baptism, apostolic succession)?
By accepting the canon, Protestants unwittingly accept the principle of Tradition’s necessity. It becomes
special pleading to trust the Church’s discernment up to a certain point (say 5th century) but then to claim
the Church immediately lost all credibility afterwards. The continuity of the Church is either a fact or not.
Orthodoxy maintains that same Church that chose the correct canon also preserved correct doctrine,
through the same Spirit. There is a biting saying: “The Bible did not drop from the sky leather-bound; it was
given to you by the Orthodox Church. If the Church was not infallibly guided in the 4th century to get the
Bible right, you might be using a faulty Bible.” Therefore, Sola Scriptura is self-defeating: one has to trust a
non-Scriptural authority to even know what counts as Scripture. This is why some have called Sola Scriptura
“a doctrine that says ‘only believe doctrines found in the Bible’, which itself is a doctrine not found in the
Bible.” It is doubly self-refuting.
6.3 The Canon and Holy Tradition as Inseparable. Orthodoxy teaches that the canon of Scripture is part of
Holy Tradition. Not an addition or rival, but an element within the Tradition: the Church traditioned the
list of inspired books. This means the Bible is a product of Tradition, not an independent phenomenon.
There is a famous Orthodox slogan: “The Church wrote the Bible, the Church preaches the Bible, the Church
lives by the Bible.” We might modify: The Holy Spirit through the Church wrote and certified the Bible. So to
divorce Scripture from Tradition is to cut off the branch on which Scripture sits. It leads to what we see in
modern Protestantism: fragmentation over which books are actually Scripture for today (e.g., Lutherans vs.
Calvinists on whether Hebrews or James’s content should shape doctrine, or liberal Protestants discarding
parts they consider uninspired). Some sects even created new canons (Mormonism adds whole scriptures;
some radical reformers wanted to drop OT entirely, etc.). Only by deferring to the unbroken Tradition can
we firmly hold the entire canon.
The Orthodox perspective highlights also the unity of Scripture and Tradition: they never truly conflict
because they have one source – the Holy Spirit. When a supposed conflict appears, it is due to
misinterpretation either of Scripture or of a claimed tradition. Holy Tradition will not contradict Scripture,
properly understood; if something contradicts Scripture, it’s not truly part of Holy Tradition (it could be a
later custom or error). Conversely, Scripture won’t be understood correctly if torn from the interpretive
Tradition.
Therefore, Sola Scriptura is self-refuting on epistemic and historical grounds. The attempt to deny binding
Tradition yet cling to the Bible inevitably sneaks in some extrabiblical rule (be it Luther’s private judgment
or the Reformers’ selective patristic appeal) to justify the Bible’s composition. That’s why the Anglican
scholar Stapleton in 16th century quipped that Protestants held sola scriptura in theory but in practice had
to use sola interpretatio mea (my interpretation alone) or sola traditio occulta (some hidden tradition like
inner witness). Ultimately, Sola Scriptura reduces to solo ego – the individual or denomination’s judgment –
as the arbiter of truth, since no text interprets itself.
In conclusion of this section: the very existence of the Christian biblical canon is a powerful argument for
Sacred Tradition and Church authority. It shows that Christ intended us to rely on the community of faith,
not just a book. The canon is the fruit of the Church listening to the Spirit. If one trusts that fruit, one
should trust the tree (the Church) that bore it (Matt. 7:16-20). As Jesus said, “a good tree cannot bear bad
fruit.” By their own criterion (the good fruit of canon), the Church of the Councils proved a trustworthy
tree. Yet Sola Scriptura advocates trust the fruit (the Bible) and then chop down the tree (deny the authority
of Tradition). This inconsistency undercuts the credibility of Sola Scriptura as a coherent doctrine.
7.1 John Calvin (1509–1564) and the Testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Calvin, in his Institutes of the Christian
Religion (esp. Book I, ch. 7), confronted the Catholic argument about needing the Church’s authority to
validate Scripture. He famously argued that Scripture’s authority is auto-piston (self-worthy of faith) and
that the conviction of its divinity in the believer’s heart comes from the internal testimony of the Holy
Spirit, not from the decree of the Church. Calvin wrote, “Scripture will ultimately suffice for a saving
knowledge of God only when its certainty is founded upon the inward persuasion of the Holy Spirit” (Inst.
I.8). He even said that the same Spirit who spoke in the prophets must illumine our hearts to recognize those
prophets’ writings as God’s word. On one level, Orthodox can agree that the Holy Spirit is active in one’s
acceptance of Scripture. But Calvin’s view, essentially, made subjective experience the final guarantor for the
individual. He needed this to escape the circle of “Church says Bible is inspired; Bible says Church has
authority,” by making the individual’s direct relationship to the Spirit primary. However, this is historically
problematic: as noted, different individuals have claimed the Spirit and come to different canons or
interpretations. Calvin would say those others are either lying or mistaken about the Spirit. But on what
basis, other than that they contradict his understanding of Scripture? Ultimately, Calvin’s principle cannot
be universalized without chaos: if every believer only accepts what the Spirit in them says, then if one
believer sincerely feels the Spirit does not vouch for James or Revelation, he’d be consistent (by Calvin’s rule)
to doubt those books. Calvin opened the door to that—though he himself didn’t walk fully through (he
kept the 27-book NT and 39-book Hebrew OT by default, except calling some “disputed”). In effect, Calvin
assumed the canon from tradition then justified it by subjective Spirit witness.
Another contradiction in Calvin is his use of the Church Fathers extensively to bolster Reformed doctrines
when convenient. For instance, he cites Augustine and others to show predestination or to argue against
Catholic sacraments. This shows he valued early Church consensus. Yet, where the Fathers unanimously
upheld something he rejected (e.g., real presence or apostolic succession), Calvin either ignored that
consensus or tried to reinterpret those Fathers. He claimed the ancient Church was on the Reformers’ side
(“the ancient church is on our side!” he often said). Historically this is tendentious; he selectively quoted. For
example, Calvin denied that ordination confers an indelible office or sacramental grace, contrary to virtually
all Fathers – but he downplayed that patristic evidence. Likewise on the Eucharist, he rejected
transubstantiation (rightly, an anachronistic Scholastic concept) but also any corporeal presence, advocating
instead a spiritual presence via faith. The consensus of the Fathers (Ignatius, Justin, Irenaeus, Cyril of
Jerusalem, etc.) clearly affirms the Eucharist is truly the Body and Blood of Christ (though mysteriously).
Calvin had to say the Fathers sometimes spoke “hyperbolically.” In doing so, he made himself the arbiter
over Tradition. Thus, while championing sola scriptura, he actually engaged in a selective sola patres when
useful, and an implied sola Calvin when the Fathers disagreed.
Historically, Calvin’s approach is anachronistic in that he treated the early Church as essentially Protestant
(minus papal errors), whereas the record shows the early Church was “Catholic” in structure and
sacramental life – the very matrix he dismissed. He had to assert that corruption set in early (some radical
Reformers said as early as Constantine). Calvin usually placed major corruptions later, but he lacked a
consistent narrative for why the same Church that carefully defined the Trinity would err on the Eucharist
or ministry. This is a logical tension: it either undermines Nicene Christianity (if the Church was already
corrupt by then, how trust Nicaea?), or if Nicaea was pure, how to say that same 4th-century Church in
which saints like Athanasius and Basil venerated relics and prayed for the dead was in gross error on those?
Calvin sometimes bit the bullet and said the Fathers did err in such things. But then his appeals to them on
other points lose force. In short, Calvin used Tradition but without an objective criterion beyond his reading
of Scripture, which is effectively solo scriptura. The inner witness concept, on scrutiny, doesn’t solve it
because it cannot be externally verified or distinguished from personal bias.
7.2 R.C. Sproul (1939–2017) – Sola Scriptura and Ultimate Authority. R.C. Sproul, a prominent Reformed
theologian, vigorously taught Sola Scriptura in the late 20th century. He famously described the Bible as
“the only infallible rule of faith for the church.” Sproul acknowledged the issue of canon, coining the phrase
that the Bible is “a fallible collection of infallible books.” By this he meant that while the books are
individually inerrant, the process by which they were assembled (absent an infallible church in his view) was
guided by God’s providence but not guaranteed free from all possibility of error. This is an astonishing
admission: it implies for Protestants the extent of the canon is not infallibly known. Sproul basically lived
with that tension, trusting that God wouldn’t let the key books be missed. But critics pointed out the
obvious: if the collection is fallible, how do we confidently know all 66 (Protestant OT+NT) are correct?
Might one be missing or extra? Sproul’s answer would be that the Spirit guided the core consensus and that
any possible mistakes would be minor (he seemed to think the apocryphal books clearly secondary). But this
showcases logical inconsistency: an “infallible Bible” that one cannot infallibly identify. Orthodoxy retorts
that it’s far more coherent to have an infallible Church identify an infallible Bible, rather than a fallible
process delivering an infallible text (which undermines certainty).
Sproul also encountered Sola Scriptura’s problem in hermeneutics: whose interpretation? He tried to
ground interpretation in the grammatico-historical method and the guidance of the Spirit, but he also
strongly emphasized the role of teachers in the Church as given by God (like the Presbyterian confessions
do). At Ligonier Ministries (his organization), they taught that while Scripture is supreme, God gifts the
church with pastors and scholars to help understand – an implicit concession that solo scriptura is
unworkable. Sproul also heavily relied on traditional formulations (e.g., he held firmly to Nicene and
Chalcedonian orthodoxy, the very products of Tradition). Thus, in practice, Sproul embraced much of
capital-T Tradition (Trinity, canon, worship on Sunday, etc.), but dubbed it part of or derived from
Scripture. Historically, as we argued, those doctrines and practices were first in Tradition then recognized as
scriptural. Sproul’s methodology could not acknowledge that, else his Sola Scriptura stance would weaken.
Another contradiction in Sproul: he passionately taught justification by faith alone and the imputation of
Christ’s righteousness as “the article on which the church stands or falls”. Yet sola fide as defined by Luther &
Sproul is not explicitly taught in Scripture (James 2 actually says “not by faith alone” – which he had to
explain away). Sproul insisted it is taught implicitly and by good necessary consequence. But that doctrine
was unknown as such (in that formulation) for centuries – a point Catholic apologists raised to him. He’d
respond that the medieval Church had obscured it, and that only Scripture is infallible, not church history.
This illustrates a fallback: whenever a Reformational distinctive is historically absent early on, Protestants
claim the Church quickly lost clarity on it. But that begs the question: how could the Holy Spirit allow such
a “central gospel truth” to be lost for 1500 years if he’s guiding the Church? It calls into question the efficacy
of the Spirit’s guidance. Sproul’s camp ended up saying that God in His sovereignty permitted the church to
largely apostatize (at least on soteriology) until the Reformation. That position has troubling implications
ecclesiologically (did the gates of hell prevail for a time?). It also undermines Sola Scriptura because if the
early church already lost core gospel despite having Scripture, that suggests Scripture alone was not
perspicuous or sufficient to preserve unity of faith – ironically arguing against the sufficiency principle. So
Sproul inadvertently demonstrated that scriptural clarity is not as straightforward as claimed, since a
supposed essential doctrine required a Luther to recover, and even today remains a point of division among
Protestants (some emphasize also the need for works or sacraments etc., leading to hundreds of
denominations each citing the same Bible).
7.3 Michael J. Kruger – Canon Revisited and Anachronism. We covered Kruger’s “self-authenticating
canon” concept earlier: his attempt to answer the canon problem by saying the New Testament canon bears
divine qualities and a corporate reception by Spirit that makes it self-validating. One can critically note that
Kruger’s model, while elegant on paper, retroactively imposes a Protestant lens on early Christianity. For
example, he claims the early church, at least the faithful remnant, knew which books were Scripture because
they heard the voice of Christ in them. But historically, we see major Christian centers disagreeing on books
(the Church of Rome accepted Hebrews late; the Syriac church rejected Revelation till much later; some
Eastern churches read the Apostolic Fathers as quasi-scripture). If the canon was so self-evident, such
discrepancies are hard to explain. Kruger often has to downplay these differences or attribute them to
“outside forces” (like heretics causing doubt). But the evidence (like Eusebius’s Church History listing three
categories of books: acknowledged, disputed, spurious) shows sincere orthodox bishops differed. The
eventual consensus was reached via councils – ironically the very external mechanism Kruger seeks to avoid
giving credit.
Kruger also cites Calvin, Turretin, and Bavinck to say the autopistic (self-believing) nature of Scripture was a
Reformation hallmark. But that hallmark itself wasn’t an explicit teaching of the early Church. No Father
says “Scripture authenticates itself alone.” Instead, as we saw, they say the Church’s tradition assures us what
is Scripture. Kruger cherry-picks quotes like Augustine’s statement that Scripture is above all (which
Augustine balanced by also saying he needs the Church’s authority to believe the Gospel). So there is some
anachronism – reading a later theology of canon back onto a time when the process was organic and
tradition-guided.
Logically, we addressed the circularity: to say “cannot authenticate canon without appealing to canon” ends
up “we know these 27 are God’s Word because these 27 claim to be God’s Word or bear God’s mark” – but
many of them don’t explicitly claim that, and some non-canonical works do claim inspiration (like the
Apocalypse of Peter). So again one falls back to extrinsic verification like historical evidence of authorship or
reception.
Kruger’s model also requires trust in a somewhat nebulous notion of “corporate reception guided by Spirit”
– which is ironically close to saying “the Church, guided by the Spirit, recognized the books,” i.e., Tradition,
which he hesitates to admit. He basically repackages Tradition’s role and calls it part of the
self-authenticating model under the rubric of “community receptivity, which itself is induced by divine
qualities, etc.”. One could say he smuggles in the Church’s authority under another name. It suggests that
even the most sophisticated Sola Scriptura defense cannot escape needing the Church. Orthodoxy would
say: why not simply acknowledge the Church’s Spirit-led authority openly, as the Fathers did?
7.4 Historical Anachronisms and Contradictions Summarized. All these Protestant thinkers faced a
dilemma: They wanted to root authority solely in Scripture, but they each had to rely on something outside
Scripture (be it the Spirit’s internal witness or historical consensus or logical deduction) to solidify that
stance. In doing so, each ended up either (a) implicitly invoking Tradition (when it suits them), or (b)
enabling private judgment in a way that leads to fragmentation (which is anti-scriptural, given Christ’s will
for unity (John 17:21, 1 Cor. 1:10)). Historically, the notion that Scripture could be the only infallible
authority separate from Tradition was unknown prior to the 14th-15th centuries (Wycliffe, Hus had
proto-ideas). All the Protestant arguments must assume that the entire Church basically misunderstood the
proper sources of authority for over a millennium. That is a staggering claim of historical discontinuity –
effectively accusing the Holy Spirit of neglect. It’s telling that Protestantism splintered almost immediately
into denominations precisely over whose interpretation of Scripture alone was correct (Luther vs. Zwingli on
Eucharist, etc.), necessitating an endless process of new sects. This doctrinal chaos (addressed in next section)
demonstrates by practical fruit that Sola Scriptura is not the stable foundation it claims to be.
In contrast, the Orthodox model – Scripture within Tradition, interpreted by the Church – is historically
continuous and logically coherent. It doesn’t require leaps like “I feel internally this is true” without external
confirmation, nor reduce Christianity to each one’s whim. It’s noteworthy, for instance, that Calvin could
not abide the radical Anabaptists who took sola scriptura further (rejecting infant baptism, etc.), so he
appealed to the practice of the ancient Church to defend infant baptism – an extrabiblical appeal. This is a
glaring example: Scripture nowhere explicitly commands infant baptism; Calvin upheld it because it was a
near-universal Tradition from the early days. Thus, even the magisterial Reformers had to lean on Tradition
at times to maintain certain doctrines or practices. Their principle of Sola Scriptura was never consistently
applied (if it were, many core Christian dogmas like the Trinity, as articulated in technical terms, and Sunday
worship, etc., would be suspect since they are not spelled out in a single proof-text but derived via Tradition
and Church authority).
In sum, key Protestant thinkers while defending Sola Scriptura inevitably reveal through their concessions,
historical missteps, or logical circles that the doctrine does not stand on its own. It must borrow from the
very thing it denies (Tradition) to function. As such, Sola Scriptura is shown to be not a timeless Christian
teaching, but a 16th-century reactionary principle with internal inconsistencies. The Orthodox critique
holds: Sola Scriptura is neither biblical, nor patristic, nor workable; it is an innovation that inadvertently
elevates individual reason or feeling to the throne of final authority – which is the original mistake of Adam
and Eve (choosing their own discernment over God’s established order). The remedy is to return to the
Orthodox model of Holy Scripture within Holy Tradition, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit in the one
Church.
8.1 Tradition as the Fullness of the Word of God. The “Word of God” (ὁ λόγος τοῦ Θεοῦ) in Orthodox
understanding is first and foremost Jesus Christ Himself, the living Word (John 1:1, 14). The revelation of
God is not a book but a Person. However, Christ’s teaching and saving acts were transmitted to us via the
Apostles in both their preaching and writing. The totality of what the Apostles handed on is the Word of
God in a broader sense, which includes the Bible but also the unwritten teachings, examples, liturgical rites,
etc., given under inspiration of the Spirit. Thus Holy Tradition is sometimes defined as “the life of the Holy
Spirit in the Church, bringing the Truth of Christ to each generation.” It is dynamic yet unchanging in
essence – dynamic in its application and growth (the understanding can deepen, as the Church faced new
questions), but unchanging in the deposit of faith (depositum fidei) it contains. Tradition, from Latin
tradere, simply means “to hand over.” The Church, in each age, under the Spirit, hands over the faith to the
next (cf. 2 Tim. 2:2). This is like a relay race: the same flame of faith is passed candle to candle – that flame is
Holy Tradition. The Bible is like a crucial part of that Tradition, the documentary part, inspired by God to
anchor and constantly refresh the Church in God’s truths. But the interpretation, the enactment
(Sacraments), the structured ministry (apostolic succession), the decisions of councils – all these are also
Spirit-guided manifestations of the Word of God at work.
Orthodox theologian Vladimir Lossky wrote: “Tradition is the presence of the Holy Spirit in the Church, the
Spirit of Truth, who according to the promise of our Lord (John 14:25; 16:13) guides the Church into all truth,
enabling her to preserve the preaching of the Gospel forever.” In other words, Holy Tradition = Holy Spirit
actively guiding. This is why Orthodoxy resists any idea of sola scriptura that might quench or ignore the
Spirit’s broader work.
8.2 Scripture’s Place in Tradition. Sometimes Orthodox will say “Scripture is the highest part of Tradition”
or even “Scripture is Tradition in written form.” This expresses that one cannot pit Scripture against
Tradition since Scripture itself emerged from Tradition. The early Church preaching (Tradition) preceded
the New Testament writings and indeed produced them (Luke’s Gospel prologue speaks of the tradition
handed down by eyewitnesses which he writes down – Luke 1:2-3). Later, the Church decided the canon
and continues to copy, translate, and disseminate Scripture – all acts of Tradition. So rather than two
sources of authority (as if Scripture vs Tradition), Orthodoxy recognizes one source: God’s self-revelation,
coming to us through Christ by the Spirit, in the Church. Scripture and Tradition are two modes or two
expressions of that one source. This is somewhat akin to how in Christology, Jesus has two natures (human
and divine) but one Person: likewise, the full revelation has a written and unwritten aspect but one Truth.
They are never in conflict if understood rightly. True Tradition cannot contradict Scripture because it would
then contradict itself (since Scripture is part of it).
The Orthodox Church often demonstrates its teachings by showing their presence in both Scripture and the
continuous teaching of the Fathers (Tradition). For example, the veneration of Mary: Scripture calls her
“blessed among women” (Luke 1:42) and that “all generations will call me blessed” (Luke 1:48). The
Tradition carries this out in liturgical feasts and patristic praises to Mary like Theotokos. The synergy is
clear: Scripture provides seeds; Tradition cultivates them into full doctrine and devotion (here, Mary as
ever-virgin Mother of God). Remove Tradition, and one might misunderstand those verses; remove
Scripture, and one could fall into legend. Together, they ensure we neither subtract from nor add to the
apostolic faith.
● The Divine Liturgy and Sacramental rites (the Eucharist, baptismal formula, etc., which carry
doctrine in prayers – e.g., the epiclesis in liturgy affirms Spirit’s work; the baptism rite confesses the
Trinity).
● The writings of the Church Fathers, not every line but their general consensus and the classic
expositions (like St. Athanasius’s On the Incarnation, St. John Damascene’s Exposition of the
Orthodox Faith, etc., which summarize earlier tradition).
● Canon law to a degree – guidelines that reflect doctrine in practice (like decrees on icon veneration
or on remarriage etc. that show how belief is applied).
● Holy icons, hymnography, lives of saints – these “pictorial and lived” traditions transmit the faith in
image and story, reinforcing doctrine (for instance, icons of the Trinity as in the Hospitality of
Abraham icon teach the triune unity without words; troparion hymns of feasts encapsulate
theology).
● The consensus of the Church’s faith as witnessed in the sensus fidelium (sense of the faithful): what
has been believed by the whole church over time.
Importantly, Tradition is not just an abstract set of ideas; it is the life of the Church. An Orthodox Christian
experiences Tradition by participating in liturgy, reading Scripture in that liturgical context, hearing
sermons that echo the Fathers, following the fasting discipline handed down, praying the prayers of the
saints, and so on. It’s a very concrete continuity.
8.4 Tradition as Continuity, Not Fossilization. Orthodox Tradition is often misunderstood as rigid or
archaic. In reality, while Orthodox theology is conservative (preserving the original deposit), Tradition has a
certain organic development. Not development in the Newmanian sense of adding new doctrines, but a
deepening understanding and more explicit articulation over time (e.g., the word homoousios is a
development in language to protect the same truth against Arian distortion). Orthodox can accept a concept
of “dynamic Tradition” meaning the Church can respond to new challenges with the old truth in new
formulations. But the criterion is always: is this truly in continuity with the apostolic faith? That’s judged by
whether it coheres with Scripture and earlier Fathers. A “Tradition” that cannot show its root in apostolic
times (even if implicitly) is not accepted. For instance, when the Western Church proclaimed the
Immaculate Conception of Mary (that Mary was preserved from original sin at conception) in 1854, the
Orthodox did not receive this as Tradition because it was not taught in the early Church and conflicts with
how the East understands original sin and Mary's role (Orthodoxy venerates Mary as “All-Holy” but doesn’t
hold she was exempt from ancestral sin’s human condition, rather she was purified at the Annunciation by
the Spirit). Thus, Orthodoxy distinguishes between Holy Tradition and small-t traditions or even
theological opinions.
Orthodox often quote St. Vincent’s rule (mentioned earlier): “In the Catholic Church itself, all possible care
must be taken, that we hold that faith which has been believed everywhere, always, and by all.” That sums up
how Orthodox validate tradition: universality (not local novelty), antiquity (not new), consensus (not
peculiar to a few). Of course, not every tradition meets that fully (some legitimate developments like
iconography took time to flourish), but as a whole, it’s a measuring rod.
8.5 The Holy Spirit’s Unceasing Action. The Orthodox model emphasizes that Christ did not leave us
orphans with a book alone. He sent the Paraclete (John 14:16, 26) to abide with the Church forever,
teaching and reminding her. The Book of Acts shows the Spirit directing the Church in council (Acts 15:28
“it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us”), in missions, in deciding issues. Orthodoxy sees that as
paradigmatic for all ages. Through Holy Tradition, the Spirit continues to speak (not new dogmas, but
guiding in applying the once-for-all faith in new contexts). The Synodikon of Orthodoxy we quoted
basically celebrates that the Holy Spirit inspires the Councils and Fathers “enlightened by one and the same
Spirit”. So Tradition is charismatic in nature – not merely human customs, but Spirit-bearing.
One might ask: how do we ensure what we call Tradition is really Spirit-led and not just human? The
Church relies on the consensus through time; if something were human-only, it would either fade away or
cause division (which the Spirit of truth would not allow to permanently mislead the whole Church). There
is a self-correcting quality: false traditions (like certain extreme ascetic practices or apocryphal tales) often
got sidelined or never universalized. True Tradition robustly permeates all Orthodox churches across
centuries – such unity in such span is humanly inexplicable without the Spirit. The miraculous endurance of
Orthodoxy through persecution and dispersion, retaining the same faith and worship, itself testifies (in our
view) to the Spirit’s preservation via Tradition.
8.6 Tradition vs. Traditionalism. The Orthodox model distinguishes living Tradition from dead
traditionalism. As theologian Jaroslav Pelikan put it succinctly: “Tradition is the living faith of the dead;
traditionalism is the dead faith of the living.” Orthodoxy aims for the former: we embrace what the “cloud
of witnesses” (Heb. 12:1) have passed to us, not because it’s old but because it’s true and vivifying.
Traditionalism – following forms with no understanding – is indeed a danger, and Orthodoxy constantly
needs spiritual renewal so that the external forms (icons, rites) are filled with internal conviction and grace.
But that renewal happens not by jettisoning tradition, rather by re-dipping into its profound meaning. For
example, in times of spiritual laxity, saints arise who call people to a deeper appreciation of liturgy or prayer,
rather than to discard them. This has been the pattern: a St. Symeon the New Theologian in the 10th
century awakening monks to real divine experience (without abolishing the monastic rule), a St. Paissy
Velichkovsky in the 18th c. reviving hesychast prayer by translating the Philokalia (writings of mystic
Fathers) which spurred fresh zeal, etc. These renewals were rooted in Tradition’s resources.
8.7 The Church as Pillar and Ground of Truth (1 Tim. 3:15). The Orthodox model inherently has an
ecclesiological dimension: the Church, as the Body of Christ indwelt by the Spirit, is the context where
Tradition lives. The apostolic college’s authority did not die with them; it continues in the episcopate
(though only as servants of the Word, not masters over it). The faithful laity too, having the “anointing that
teaches” (1 John 2:20), contribute to preserving the faith (we see instances where laity or lower clergy stood
against heretical bishops). But ultimately, the unity of the Church in council provides the tangible locus of
authority for decisions. Orthodoxy holds that the Church as a whole is infallible (cannot defect from faith),
though any given person or local synod can err. This corporate infallibility is precisely because of Holy
Tradition’s guidance by the Spirit. It’s not that every single traditionary practice is perfect, but the essential
faith remains pure. So when Orthodox say “the Church teaches X,” that for us is final – not because we deify
an institution, but because we trust Christ’s promises to His Church. The Church, in Orthodox creed, is
“one, holy, catholic, apostolic.” If she taught error as truth, she’d cease to be holy or apostolic. Yet history
shows continuity – e.g., our Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom (5th century) still prayed today, our
doctrine of the Trinity identical to what Athanasius taught, etc. Protestantism with Sola Scriptura lost that
continuity in many areas (e.g. rejecting doctrines or practices all Christians held for 1500 years, like the
sacrificial understanding of Eucharist or prayer for departed). That discontinuity is a sign of rupture from
Tradition.
Therefore the Orthodox model invites Christians to see Scripture not as a stand-alone artifact but as part of
the holistic life of the Church. Read in the Church (e.g., lectionary cycle), explained by the Church (patristic
commentaries), and practiced by the Church (the word made deed). As one Orthodox bishop said: “For us,
Tradition is not just 'what we do'; it is Christ Himself present by the Spirit. The Gospel is in Tradition and
Tradition is in the Gospel.”
In practice, that means an Orthodox Christian doesn’t face the burden of being his own doctrinal judge on
everything – he receives the faith, checks that it indeed aligns with what all saints have taught, and lives it
out. This fosters unity. Christians separated from Tradition often disagree strongly on interpretation; within
Orthodoxy, there is a remarkable unanimity on core issues (because we all submit to the same inherited
faith). There is room for theological exploration and even differing theologoumena (opinions) on mysteries
not fully defined – but on dogmata there is oneness. This is a fruit of the Orthodox approach: unity in truth
through conciliarity and tradition, as opposed to sola scriptura’s tendency to fragmentation.
This lack of unity is itself a counter-witness to Jesus’ prayer “that they all may be one” (John 17:21). It also
presents a stumbling block to the world: as non-Christians see Christians disagreeing on the Bible, it
undermines the Bible’s credibility and the Gospel’s power to unify. Eschatologically, if Sola Scriptura
continues to be the modus operandi, one fears an accelerating relativism: already some denominations,
appealing to Scripture differently, have endorsed what others call heresies or immoral practices. E.g., some
bless same-sex marriages by interpreting Scripture in a revisionist way, while others condemn it by a
traditional reading. Who decides? With Sola Scriptura, there’s no final referee, so they go separate ways. This
leads to the concept that “the Church” is an invisible aggregate, which in effect abdicates the idea of a visible,
authoritative Church. And if the Church is not visibly one, how can she be the light of the world “so that
the world may believe” (John 17:21)? The world sees many “churches,” not one Church, under the sola
scriptura regime.
Orthodoxy, on the other hand, has remained one Church in faith through ages (despite administrative
divisions or national churches, the faith and sacraments are the same and communion is shared – it is one
Church mystically and in practice). This unity in truth is a strong sign of divine guidance. It parallels Israel
of old: there was one covenant people with a continuity of belief (sure, with periods of falling away, but God
always restored them). If the New Israel (the Church) had shattered into pieces with contradictory
doctrines, that would cast doubt on her being the true continuation. But the Orthodox Church can
legitimately claim to teach the same faith as the Apostolic Church – an unbroken chain. That is ecclesial
stability and cohesiveness which sola scriptura lacks.
9.2 Doctrinal Relativism as the Endgame. We see in some modern Protestant circles a tendency to downplay
doctrine altogether because no one can agree. This “lowest common denominator” Christianity retreats to
“just love Jesus” and vague morality. But the New Testament is full of specific doctrine (“the faith once
delivered” (Jude 3) has content). Sola Scriptura inadvertently fosters relativism: “you read it your way, I read
it mine, who can say who is right?” It almost begs a post-modern shrug. Indeed, in liberal Protestantism,
many teachings once universally held (like the Virgin Birth, miracles, even the Trinity) have become optional
or reinterpreted, because Scripture was critiqued or re-read without traditional constraints. Sola Scriptura
has no safeguard against this slide: if one decides some portion of Scripture isn’t authoritative (say, Paul’s
ethics are dismissed as culture-bound), there’s no higher check (the person has already dismissed church
authority). The result is each does what's right in his own eyes (cf. Judges 21:25). We see denominations
voting on truth as if democratic majority can overturn apostolic teaching.
Orthodoxy sees this as a grave consequence: theological chaos leads to spiritual confusion and moral
confusion. Indeed, some Protestant communities have changed moral stances drastically (on divorce,
contraception, sexual ethics, etc.) in ways not consistent with historic Christian teaching – all justified by
some Bible interpretation. The Orthodox Church’s adherence to Tradition has kept her moral teaching
consistent (sometimes unpopular, but consistent with Scripture and old precedent).
Eschatologically, if Sola Scriptura and denominationalism prevail, the Church’s witness going into the end
times would be fragmented, perhaps easily co-opted by false prophets or antichrist figures who can exploit
the lack of central authority. There is a sobering thought: In end times prophecies, there are warnings of
great deception (Matt. 24:11, 2 Thess. 2:3-11). If Christians are divided and without a unified voice, they
might be more vulnerable to deception. Orthodoxy believes the conciliar and traditional nature of the
Church is a bulwark against deception – a false teacher like Arius was defeated because the Church had the
cohesive power to convene Nicaea and anathematize the heresy. In a Protestant-style scenario, Arius might
just start “Arian Bible Church” and draw many after him with no council to stop it (indeed Jehovah’s
Witnesses and such are analogous modern Arians, thriving in the Protestant pluralist milieu).
9.3 Orthodoxy Preserves Unity in Truth Through Conciliarity. The Orthodox Church’s hallmark is
conciliarity (sobornost in Russian) – the working together of bishops and people in council and consensus.
This is how error is filtered out and truth asserted, as happened in the Ecumenical Councils. This conciliar
principle continues at varying levels. While Orthodoxy currently lacks a singular earthly head like a pope, it
operates by brotherly agreement and reference to the established body of Tradition. This fosters unity
because any outlier is quickly identified (if a bishop started teaching novel doctrine, others would call a
synod to address it). The presence of a strong, conscious Tradition acts as an immune system – detecting and
rejecting foreign elements. Thus, Orthodoxy has maintained one faith, even if it exists in multiple cultural
expressions.
This is crucial for fulfilling Christ’s plan that His disciples “may become perfectly one, so that the world may
know that You sent Me” (John 17:23). The Orthodox Church believes it exemplifies that unity (though
sadly not all Christians are within her visibly – Orthodox see that as a call for others to return to the fullness
of Tradition, not as justification that disunity is acceptable).
9.4 Eschatological Fulness of Tradition. Orthodoxy also has an eschatological understanding of Tradition: it
is teleological, aiming at the final union with God (theosis). The Holy Tradition includes the mystical path
(as in hesychasm, prayer of the heart) that leads the faithful toward experiencing the firstfruits of the
Kingdom even now. If one were to rely on Scripture alone without guidance, such depths of spiritual life
(the hesychast tradition draws from Scripture but also from centuries of ascetic experience) might be
inaccessible. Tradition gives tried-and-true means of sanctification (fasting rules, prayer methods, spiritual
direction) which Scripture commends but doesn’t detail. By following these, Orthodox Christians, by grace,
are transfigured – which is preparation for the coming of Christ. In contrast, communities that abandon
tradition sometimes lose robust asceticism and sacramental life, leading to more shallow spiritual experience
(religion becomes more intellectual or emotional only). That may impair readiness for the spiritual battles of
the last days.
In the book of Revelation, the image of the Bride (the Church) prepared for her Groom is prominent (Rev.
19:7-8). The Bride is adorned in fine linen, “the righteous deeds of the saints” – we can see this as the
beautiful tapestry of Holy Tradition, woven from the lives and teachings of saints through ages, making the
Church resplendent. Sola Scriptura ideology, if taken to extreme, strips away many of those adornments
(devotion to saints, holy icons, sacred rituals) thinking to purify the Church, but arguably impoverishing her
expression. The Orthodox Bride holds the hand of her Beloved (Scripture) while wearing her wedding
garment (Tradition) – both together make her ready. The Protestant bride (we speak with charity) might
hold only a Bible but wear a plainer dress, having cast off what she thought were ornaments of superstition.
But in doing so, she might have removed some gifts the Groom himself gave her (like the Eucharist as a
continual wedding feast rehearsal, etc.). We invite all to consider the richness of Orthodoxy as the true
fullness intended by Christ.
9.5 Conclusion: Orthodoxy as the Safe Harbor. In conclusion, Sola Scriptura leads to each individual or sect
becoming an arbiter of truth – effectively making every man a pope unto himself (as some have quipped).
This leads to relativism (“that’s your interpretation, this is mine”) and doctrinal chaos which compromises
the integrity of the faith. Conversely, the Eastern Orthodox reliance on Holy Tradition ensures a stable,
unified transmission of truth, acting as an anchor in stormy seas of cultural change and personal opinions.
Far from being opposed to Scripture, Tradition magnifies and elucidates Scripture, as a lampstand holds up
the light (cf. Ps 119:105). It guards against misinterpretation and ensures that the understanding of
Scripture is in harmony with the Spirit who inspired it.
One might fear that Tradition could stifle fresh work of the Spirit, but true Holy Tradition is itself the
ongoing life of the Spirit. It doesn’t stifle but channels – like a riverbank guiding the water so it doesn’t
become a flood or swamp but flows strong and deep. Within that channel, there is room for personal
growth, local flavor, and minor non-doctrinal differences, but all within the one River of Truth. This is how
Orthodoxy has room for many cultures and saints of many personalities, yet one faith.
To end with the words of St. Paul: “So then, brethren, stand firm and hold to the traditions (παραδόσεις)
which you were taught, whether by word or by our letter” (2 Thess. 2:15). The Eastern Orthodox Church has
sought to do exactly that through the centuries. In standing firm in Holy Tradition, she stands firm in
Christ. Sola Scriptura, by severing the Word from the ecclesial Tradition, inadvertently sets up the Scripture
to be misused or usurped by private agendas – ironically leading to sola cultura (culture alone) or sola ratio
(reason alone) as people bend interpretation to worldly trends or personal logic.
Orthodoxy’s apologetic, then, is that only by returning to the ancient Church’s model – Scripture in
Tradition, interpreted by the Church – can Christendom regain the unity and stability that the Apostolic
Church had. It is an invitation to all Protestants (and others) to rediscover the faith of the undivided
Church. As one Orthodox hymn on Pentecost says: “The Holy Spirit provides all things: He established the
Church by uniting peoples of diverse tongues in one harmony of faith.” This one harmony of faith is precisely
the chorus of Scripture and Tradition together praising the one God in Trinity.
Thus, we reject Sola Scriptura as a radical error of the Reformers, an error that ruptured Christian unity and
deviated from the biblical and patristic witness. We uphold Holy Tradition – encompassing Holy Scripture
– as the sure guide into all truth, trusting our Lord’s promise that the Holy Spirit abides with His Church
forever, preserving her in the truth that saves. In the end, as Christ comes in glory, He will find faith on earth
(Luke 18:8) – not a cacophony of private interpretations, but the one holy catholic and apostolic Church
holding the faith entire. To that eschatological community, the Orthodox Church humbly claims identity,
not by our merit but by the mercy and fidelity of God who guided us.
In the radiant light of that realized unity, Sola Scriptura will fade away, for in the Heavenly Jerusalem no one
will be holding a personal Bible debating its meaning; rather, all will know the Lord directly (Jer. 31:34) and
the Lamb Himself will be the light (Rev. 21:23). Until then, we journey as the one Body, following the
apostolic doctrine and fellowship (Acts 2:42) – which is nothing other than Holy Tradition – as our pillar of
fire by night and cloud by day guiding us to the Promised Land of God’s Kingdom.
Let us therefore say with the Fathers at the end of the Seventh Council: “This is the faith of the Apostles; this
is the faith of the Fathers; this is the faith of the Orthodox; this faith has established the universe!”. Amen.
Footnotes:
Sources Cited:
● Athanasius, Festal Letter 39 (367) – (mentioned content of canon, not explicitly cited above).
● Jaroslav Pelikan, The Christian Tradition, Vol.1, and his famous quote on Tradition vs
traditionalism.
● World Christian Encyclopedia data via Nick Hardesty, Catholic Answers (implicitly referenced
fragmentation count).