IN PRAISE OF SCHOLARSHIP — A GIFT TO THE CHURCH
We should pause—and genuinely thank God for scholarship.
In some corners of the church, there is a quiet suspicion of scholars; as though education dulls faith, as though study competes with devotion, as though learning somehow threatens the simplicity of the gospel. But this suspicion is misplaced. The Church does not flourish in spite of scholarship; it flourishes because of it.
Every Bible we hold in our hands is a testimony to men and women who gave their lives to careful study—languages learned slowly, manuscripts examined patiently, history weighed honestly, texts compared reverently. Without scholars, we would not have Hebrew Scriptures faithfully preserved; we would not have Greek New Testaments carefully transmitted; we would not have translations that allow the Word of God to be read aloud by a child or whispered by a dying saint. God used scholarship to place His Word within reach of ordinary people—and that alone should end the argument.
“The scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house, who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old” (Matthew 13:52). Jesus did not despise learning; He redeemed it.
This does not mean scholars are infallible. They know this better than anyone. I read scholars regularly—and I do not always agree with their conclusions; nor do they require me to.
Scholarship does not demand unquestioning allegiance; it invites informed engagement. It teaches us how to ask better questions, how to listen before speaking, how to recognize the difference between conviction and certainty.
And we should say this plainly: education is not arrogance. Doing homework is not pride. Taking time to understand before making declarations is not compromise—it is wisdom. “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15). That diligence looks different for different callings—but it is diligence nonetheless.
At the same time, let us be equally clear: you do not need a degree to share Jesus. You do not need to know Greek verbs or Hebrew syntax to preach Christ crucified. The gospel is gloriously simple—so simple that a child can believe it and a dying thief can cling to it. “For I determined not to know anything among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified” (1 Corinthians 2:2). Salvation is not reserved for the educated; it is offered freely to all.
But here is where gentleness must meet honesty.
There is a difference between proclaiming the gospel and pontificating on deep, technical, and controversial matters. Not every believer is called to wrestle publicly with textual criticism, Second Temple Judaism, eschatological systems, or historical theology—and that is not a failure. The body of Christ has many members, not many heads. When people speak confidently on complex subjects without the necessary grounding, it does not strengthen the Church; it confuses it.
“If anyone thinks that he knows anything, he knows nothing yet as he ought to know” (1 Corinthians 8:2).
This is where our moment struggles. Meme-prophets, algorithm-driven outrage, YouTube certainty, and dime-store blogging thrive on speed, not accuracy; confidence, not competence; provocation, not truth. These platforms reward novelty over faithfulness and controversy over wisdom. They do not serve the cause of Christ—even when they claim to defend it.
To hold views that the entire weight of global scholarship—across cultures, denominations, centuries, and languages—has carefully examined and rejected is not courage; it is carelessness. Scholarship is not a conspiracy; it is a conversation—one that spans generations and disciplines, marked by peer review, self-correction, and humility before the text. Disagree if you must, but disagree informed, not insulated.
The Church needs evangelists—and thank God for them. The Church also needs teachers, historians, linguists, archaeologists, and theologians—and thank God for them too. “And God has appointed these in the church: first apostles, second prophets, third teachers…” (1 Corinthians 12:28). To despise any gift God has given is to impoverish ourselves.
So let us be grateful. Let us read widely, listen carefully, and speak humbly. Let us proclaim Christ boldly—and leave the deep waters to those called to swim in them. Faith is not weakened by learning; it is refined by it. Truth does not fear scrutiny; it invites it.
And above all, let us remember: the same Lord who saves sinners also calls scholars—and He wastes nothing in His Church.
Lord, Thank You for faithful men and women who labor in study for the sake of Your Church. Give us humble hearts—eager to learn, slow to speak, quick to love. Help us honor every gift You have given, proclaim Your gospel simply, and handle Your truth carefully. Keep us from pride without knowledge, and from knowledge without love. Amen.
BDD
