Last week our friends over at CrossPolitic (CP) posted a couple of podcast episodes that understandably offended large numbers of Christians who take God’s Word seriously. They did it in the name of “rowdy Presbyterianism,” serrated edge communication, and even brotherly love. Their original failure was bad enough. But their multiple follow-up defenses of their antics suggest that their mischaracterization of Baptists might be a feature, not a bug.
For the uninformed or slightly informed, what they tried to say is that the rampant individualism that permeates much of the Baptist and evangelical world can pave the way for transgenderism in America. But what they actually said is that Baptist theology “is the cause of” transgenderism. If you want to get up to speed you can go here to see the original source of the lingering stench they created when they intentionally stomped on some cow pies and then continued to track their mess throughout the reformed evangelical house. What they should have done once friends began to complain about the stink and collectively point to the source, was stop, remove their shoes, and start cleaning up the mess they made. That would have been both right and wise.
After all, that’s how Christians live, right? We are both believers and repenters. When the Corinthians became convinced by Paul’s rebuke that they had stepped in it what did they do? They grieved in a godly manner and repented and Paul commended them for it. “For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death. For see what earnestness this godly grief has produced in you, but also what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what longing, what zeal, what punishment! At every point you have proved yourselves innocent in the matter” (2 Corinthians 7:10-11).
Some may not judge what the CP men did as sin that needs to be repented of. Others understandably see the accusation as slanderous. In the spirit of 1 Corinthians 4:13, I would like to entreat my brothers to own what they have broadcast on their show and recant. Even if they cannot be convinced of sin, I hope they will at the very least realize that their words and actions have certainly catapulted way beyond the walls of wisdom and deep into the fields of foolishness. Either way, what was said should have been simply and plainly renounced.
Instead, they doubled down. “What stink? Let me explain to you why the sights and smells that you find problematic are really due to your hyper-sensitivity and not the poop on our shoes.” That basic thesis has been defended first by a follow-up podcast episode and then three (so far) written essays, not to mention various social media comments. The common theme in each is, “Hey, we didn’t do anything wrong. Why are your knickers in a knot?”
What They Actually Said
Gabe Rench has rightly appealed to people to “deal fairly with what we said.” I intend to do just that because burning straw men serves only to pollute the relational environment and is beneath the kind of good-faith engagement that should mark disagreements among Christians. Of course, the same is true about defending straw men when real men have actually been critiqued. More on that later.
In a CP show called, “From Slavery to Abortion to Transgenderism—The Church Led us to the Trans Movement,” David Shannon, Gabe Rench, and Jared Longshore were joined with video-guest, Jason Farley. Farley explained the rising transgenderism with its attendant mutilation of bodies with this statement (at 14:15): “This is just American Baptist Theology secularized.” At the end of that show, Shannon encouraged viewers to join the Fight, Laugh, Feast Club so that they could hear the rest of the conversation that would take place with Farley “Backstage.” Both of those shows are helpfully embedded in Gabe Rench’s article here.
Burning straw men serves only to pollute the relational environment and is beneath the kind of good-faith engagement that should mark disagreements among Christians.
That “Backstage” episode is entitled, “The Failure of Baptist Theology,” which precisely indicates that for which they actually argue during the next 27 minutes. That conversation, which continued without Longshore, opened with this exchange between Rench and Farley:

Rench: Let’s say I am Baptist Rench and you just said what you said.
Farley (laughing): I know. David gave me permission.
Rench: You came out and said that my view of waiting till my child is ready to confess faith in our Lord and then baptize them is, is related to the identity crisis found in transgenderism.
Farley: Yeah, I didn’t say “related to” I said, “is the cause of.”
Laughter by Knox & Rench
Rench calls that comment “a bomb” that Farley throws into the lap of faithful Baptist families, in essence saying to them, “you are the cause of the transgender problem.”
Farley: Yeah. Well, the pastor is, but yeah.

Farley goes on to talk about abortion being the church’s fault due to Christian parents because “we were the ones that started saying, “‘Not my kids,’ right?—that birth is not enough for me to say that, ‘Yes this is my kid’ because God doesn’t think in those categories. Right?”

Rench responds, “Right.”
Farely: Well, the categories that God thinks in are more real than any of the categories that I think in. So, if God looks at my kids and says,”‘Not my kids,” God is rejecting my kids before I ever do, then that’s a much deeper issue than [he does not finish his thought]. So then when the world comes along and says, “Well, look, they’re not even kids yet, right?”
Rench & Knox: Yeah
Farley: “We can kill them.” Just today, my 16 year old son who just got his driver’s license. We were driving home he was like, “Dad I was talking to my Baptist friend and I said, ‘So why aren’t you baptized yet?’ He was like, ‘Well you gotta make the choice and stuff.’ ‘Well, hurry up and do it.’ ‘Well, that’ s not really how it works, you gotta mean it and stuff.’
And he [Farley’s son] went on to say, “When your parents were adopted by God do you think that wasn’t going to include you? [Like God would say:] ‘I’ll take you but I don’t want your kids?’”
Rench: “Wow”
Farley quoting his son, who continues to speak for God: “‘I’ll be your dad but I won’t be your grandkids’ grandpa?’”
Rench: Right. Wow.

So here we have advocates of CREC theology applauding “God as grandfather” of “covenant kids.” More could be said but stop for a moment and just let it sink in a bit.
The grandfatherhood of God.
What about great-grandfatherhood? Are we to believe that when God adopts parents that He would seriously tell their grandchildren that He doesn’t want them? Does He really say, “I‘ll take you and your kids, but not your grandkids?” If yes, then why? If not, then…at what generation does the logic no longer hold?
I belabor this point for this reason: It makes clear what was actually said, affirmed, and commended by David Shannon and Gabe Rench and later defended by Toby Sumpter and Jared Longshore. You need to keep this in mind when you consider the defenses they offer when you listen to the 3rd video and read their written arguments. Because in the name of defending the points they actually made (as I’ve just documented) they actually try to defend that which they perhaps wish had been said.
What They Actually Defend
My purpose isn’t to critique every wrong thing that was said in this whole fiasco but rather to focus only on the foolish claims the CP guys made about Baptist theology and the problematic ways that they have responded to it once they were called to account. However, I do want to highlight the following comments by David Shannon. They added nothing to the purported explanation or defense of the erroneous and false accusations cited above, but they do reveal a wrong way of viewing the differences between Baptist and Presbyterian theologies (and therefore, practices).

Shannon: “I love my Baptist brothers more than they love me and I have evidence of that. I am part of a denomination, the CREC, that believes that Baptists and Presbyterians should not separate over the issue of baptism…. Every Sunday I am in communion and fellowship and membership with Baptists inside my Presbyterian church and we’re breaking bread at the table…. The way that Baptists view Presbyterians when it comes to be in relationship to them at the table in communion with them in membership in the church,… is that, ‘We’re friends but you can’t be a member of this church. You can’t have communion with us.’… Like if my children grow up and go to a Baptist church they have to be rebaptized.”

The assumption that a lower view of the importance of baptism is more loving than a higher view is unfounded. It is true that Baptist theology forbids any unbaptized person membership in the church. Of course, Presbyterian theology does the same thing—only those who have been baptized are proper candidates for membership in their churches, too. Baptists and Presbyterians are in complete agreement on this point.
Our differences are found in what constitutes baptism. Presbyterians practice paedobaptism. Baptists do not recognize that practice as legitimate baptism. We can fight (and, through the centuries, have fought) over what constitutes legitimate new covenant baptism, but we agree that only those who have been baptized can be members of our churches. There is nothing unloving to hold, following the clear teaching of the New Testament, the theological conviction that “Those who do actually profess repentance towards God, faith in, and obedience to, our Lord Jesus Christ, are the only proper subjects of this ordinance” (1689 Confession, 29.2). That means, in Baptist theology, only believers can experience biblical baptism. It has nothing to do with love but everything to do with biblical conviction. This is what causes Baptists to say that baptism is for believers alone.
Toby Sumpter doubles down on Shannon’s point a little later when he says that the practice of closed communion by a Baptist church is a “more extreme thing” than what Farley asserted about Baptist theology causing transgenderism. Both he and Shannon are confusing categories. Farley accused “Baptist theology” of causing transgenderism. A common practice for many (most?) Baptist churches for 400 years has been to fence the table against unbaptized people. The former is a scurrilous gratuitous assertion that scored points for being edgy and cool. The latter is rooted in careful exegesis of God’s Word that has resulted in deep doctrinal conviction that can be (and has been) debated. The effort to compare them and then to suggest that a long-held Baptist practice is “more extreme” than a silly assertion is a swing and a miss.
In Baptist theology, only believers can experience biblical baptism. It has nothing to do with love but everything to do with biblical conviction. This is what causes Baptists to say that baptism is for believers alone.
For what it is worth, I, a Baptist, have at times been uninvited to commune at the Lord’s Table with fellow Baptists while worshiping in their churches. By conviction, they regard the Lord’s Supper to be a local church ordinance for local church members. That is not my conviction, but I hardly find their practice offensive, unloving, or extreme. In fact, I rejoice that they actually care enough about it to take it seriously.
All this brings me back to my disappointment over the ways that the CP brothers have handled this whole unfortunate mess. Rather than deal with what was actually said, their defenses and explanations have centered on other things. For example, Shannon stated, “There are Baptist brothers who I don’t fit inside of the same box as American Baptist theological foundation system.” Gabe Rench echoed this defense in his written response to the controversy.

On our CrossPolitic show on Wednesday, my friend Jason Farley said the American Baptist theology turned-secular is why we have the trans culture that we have today (around the 14 minute mark). To be clear, I agree with Jason, and so did Knox and Pastor Toby. Also to be clear, we said the American Baptist theology, not Reformed Baptist theology. Distinctions matter, right?

Yes, distinctions do matter. Five minutes after Farley’s statement that transgenderism is “just American Baptist theology secularized” (in the original podcast) Shannon personifies the type of pushback that they anticipate that statement will evoke. Portraying Baptists who are trying to follow Christ faithfully he says,

There is a group of people that think that what they are doing—they are doing family worship, they are trying their very best, they are seeking to honor God in how they are raising their kids in every way, and saying, “We’re covenantal, we’re Baptist, but we are covenantal. Right?”

Which Baptists other than those who are Reformed would call themselves “covenantal?” It is disingenuous to suggest that Farley’s accusation was a sniper shot at “American Baptists” that excluded “Reformed Baptists” (or any other kind, for that matter) in light of Shannon’s characterization of the kind of Baptist that they are addressing. Further, the follow-up “backstage” episode during which they elaborate the charge is, as I mentioned above, entitled, “The Failure of Baptist Theology (my emphasis).” No distinctions. No qualifications. No exclusions. Just a shotgun blast with #8 shot.
On the episode that attempted to clarify their meaning (“Baptists vs Presbyterians? Christian Unity & Separation on Theological Issues”) Sumpter goes to great lengths to defend what Farley never said. After setting up his point by noting that Presbyterianism “can grow a certain kind of cancer” he remarks, “I’m a Presbyterian. I just hit myself.” For emphasis he added, “Were a bunch of Presbyterians white supremacists in the South? Yes.” Then he makes what he thinks is a valid point.

There’s really no difference in saying that and saying, “Does Baptist theology, can it grow mold? Can it grow cancer? Can it grow tumors? Can it become a corruption?” Who’s gonna say no? And, if Jason Farley says, “Hey, one of the tumors that Baptist theology can grow is radical individualism”…. James White is not even denying it; he’s saying non-confessional Baptist theology… is particularly prone to grow this kind of mold, to grow this kind of cancer. Does that lead to radical individualism… Does that turn into transgenderism? Yes.

I agree with this completely. “Who’s gonna say no?” But that is a different conversation from the one provoked by Farley’s broadside. Sumpter seems to think that Farley spoke in the subjunctive: “If Jason Farley says, ‘Hey, one of the tumors that Baptist theology can grow is radical individualism….,’” If that is what Farley had said, then no harm, no foul. Play on. But Farley spoke in the indicative. He asserted a statement as a fact. What he actually said is that the Baptist conviction of baptizing only those who confess Jesus Christ as Lord “is the cause of” transgenderism.
I wish someone would actually try to defend what he actually said and not what they might have wished he said. If the theological convictions and practices of Baptists are responsible for the transgenderism in our culture then at least try to make an argument to demonstrate it. Don’t take the worst examples of a theological position, or worse yet, a perversion of a position, highlight its deficiencies, and then claim to have made your case. If Baptist theology is the problem, then at least marshal some theological arguments.
The lack of such argumentation underscores another weakness of all the responses thus far, and that is the lack of any biblical engagement at all. I know some Presbyterians think my Baptist impulse to want actual biblical texts to undergird theological arguments and positions is a quaint type of biblicism. But if you are going to charge “Baptist theology” with failure and with causing the transgender movement in our culture, is it too much to expect at least a modicum of actual biblical exposition showing the error of that theology? If that is a request too great to bear could we at least have some proof texts cited? As I read the written responses and watched the videos it became increasingly evident that if the Bible were a virus then the CP shows and defenses would be in no danger of catching it.
If you are going to charge “Baptist theology” with failure and with causing the transgender movement in our culture, is it too much to expect at least a modicum of actual biblical exposition showing the error of that theology?
Well, much, much more could be said about the failures of the CP brothers in how they have handled the stink they have created. Rather than simply acknowledge the facts—that Jason Farley laid an egg with a slanderous statement that should be walked back—they have doubled down, tried to convince us of what we should have heard, suggested that those who find his accusation scurrilous and indefensible simply don’t know how to communicate like men, with a serrated edge, or especially like Jesus. As one young pastor friend graciously put it, these responses are “honestly close to gaslighting.”
While some might be impressed with all these moves, I, and I am guessing many others, have seen this play before. Rather than take the “L” and move forward, the typical way that most contemporary Christian organizations respond to legitimate concerns is to dismiss them as missing the point, being untoward, or having no relevance. Then the wagons are circled in hopes that the news cycle passes quickly.
Such responses always leave me cold because they are no different from those who have no Savior. Christians have no reason to resist owning our sin and failures. Our Lord was crucified and raised from the dead. We don’t have to pretend that we live sin-free lives or try to obfuscate or coverup when sin or shortcoming in our lives and ministries come to light. We can own it, repent, make things right, and move on in faith.
But that doesn’t seem to be the evangelical way anymore.
I hope better for the CP men.
After writing this I learned that both Jeff Wright and James White have responded to this fiasco. Both are worth your attention.

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The Great Wave Off Kanagawa (1831), Katsushika Hokusai, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

Featured in Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji, this woodblock print captures the peril of three fishing boats tossed by a rogue wave in Sagami Bay, twenty-five miles southwest of Tokyo. In the year this painting appeared, 1831, another great outdoor painter, John James Audubon, traveled from England to New York to begin his work on Birds in America; Meanwhile, over in Europe, the Impressionist artists, Monet and Renoir were still children, but they would one day be influenced by Hokusai’s work.
There is much beauty in nature, but aestheticians have identified an experience that goes beyond savoring a sunset, delighting in a blanketing snowfall, or taking in the fall colors of New England. They speak of “the sublime,” that which is intimidatingly splendid. It’s kin to a word occurring five times Psalm 24:7-10—‘glory,’ as in “the King of glory.” The Hebrew word for ‘glory’ is kabod, a cognate of kebed (“heavy”); it connotes substance and heft, the sort of awesome presence that terrified Isaiah in his chapter six. Painfully aware of his deplorable weakness, the prophet feared being “crushed” by the sovereign holiness of God.
The eighteenth-century British philosopher and statesman Edmund Burke, in speaking of the sublime, identified it as “astonishment,” that is the “state of the soul, in which all its motions are suspended, with some degree of horror. In this case the mind is so entirely filled with its object, that it cannot entertain any other.” And, for illustration, he pointed to the ocean, which can be “an object of no small terror.” [1]
In his Critique of Judgment, Immanuel Kant supplied other examples of the sublime:

Bold, overhanging, and, as it were, threatening rocks, thunderclouds piled up the vault of heaven, borne along with flashes and peals, volcanoes in all their violence of destruction, hurricanes leaving desolation in their track, the boundless ocean rising with rebellious force, the high waterfall of some mighty river, and the like, make our power of resistance of trifling moment in comparison with their might.[2]

And so we’re pointed to the oceans, whose water covers around seventy per cent of the earth and whose dynamics are quite sublime, as Hokusai knew full well.
This painting hails from the Far East, in contrast with the other three, which are Western. I include it to underscore the gospel implications for lands unknown to (even unsuspected by) the Israelites in David’s day. Though Psalm 24 is Hebrew scripture delivered to God’s chosen people, its reach circles the globe. As Augustine observed of Psalm 24:1-2, “This is true, for the Lord, now glorified, is preached to all nations to bring them to faith, and the whole world thus becomes his church.” [3]
The Domes of the Yosemite (1867), Albert Bierstadt, The Athenaeum, St. Johnsbury, Vermont

Psalm 24:1-2 – 1The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein. 2 For he hath founded it upon the seas, and established it upon the floods.
Bierstadt, an eighteenth-century German-American painter was remarkable for his glorious landscapes, as were other Americans of the Hudson River School—Frederick Church, Asher Durand, George Inness, Thomas Cole, Thomas Moran, and Thomas Cole.  Whether working in the Hudson Valley, the Sierra Nevadas, Yellowstone, or the Andes, these men astonished their viewers with breathtaking portrayals of God’s handiwork. Bierstadt introduced many to the Rockies, helped spur the conservation movement, and has been featured on two of America’s commemorative stamps.
This painting portrays California’s Yosemite Valley, granted protection under Abraham Lincoln in 1864 and designated a National Park in 1890. Though romanticized, Bierstadt’s rendering is nonetheless indicative of the grandeur of this site, a reality well chronicled in a series of black and white photographs by Ansel Adams, whose work is featured in a Yosemite Village gallery.
Psalm 24:2 encompasses the granite domes that define the valley, for it says the Lord founded the earth “on the seas and established it on the waters.” Well, certainly, Genesis 1 says that the waters were gathered so that the dry land would appear on the third day of creation, but young-earth creationists point beyond this to Psalm 104, where we read, in verses 5-8:

Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be removed for ever.Thou coveredst it with the deep as with a garment: the waters stood above the mountains. At thy rebuke they fled; at the voice of thy thunder they hasted away. They go up by the mountains; they go down by the valleys unto the place which thou hast founded for them. Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over; that they turn not again to cover the earth.

They read Noah’s Flood into this passage, for “turn not again [ever] to cover the earth” would not make sense if the psalmist were speaking only of the initial emergence of land. It would ignore the subsequent, universal immersion above the tallest mountains recounted in Genesis 7.
Beware of (and thank God for) Wadi Rum.
Worldview-wise, there are two big ways of seeing our surroundings. One is naturalistic/materialistic, regarding flora and fauna, hill and dale, you and me, as the product of chemical and physical laws at work on some sort of primordial stuff. On this model, it would take eons of dumb matter talking to itself (“dialectical materialism”), through hit or miss, to generate Handel’s Messiah. It’s hard to believe that folks would embrace such “seeing,” given its Rube Goldberg absurdity, but they soldier on, determined to keep God’s hands off the universe.
The other view regards the universe and all within as the handiwork of a multi-omni creator. Some have proffered various versions of the Anthropic Argument for God’s Existence, working from the wonderful correspondence of man’s needs to the Lord’s earthly provision, the way that the environment is marvelously attuned to our makeup, e.g., the right mix of the gases we breathe; the distance to the sun and tilt of the earth, giving us tolerable seasons. Of course, the Darwinists counter that it fits us since we fit it; if we didn’t, we’d be extinct. They venture a deflating analogy, that of the woman who marveled that God had caused great rivers—the Thames, Tiber, Seine, and Danube—to flow through the capitals of Europe.
This snappy dismissal of the wondrous correspondence between Creation and her creatures’ blessings does not bear up to scrutiny, and the aesthetic provisions of nature are particularly troublesome for the materialist. (Indeed, the problem cropped up early on, when eighteenth-century art critic John Ruskin pressed Charles Darwin to explain the glories of a peacock’s deployed fan.) Darwinian philosopher Denis Dutton gave it his best shot in The Art Instinct: Beauty, Pleasure, and Human Evolution, when he played off a worldwide affinity for “blue landscapes” (with a stream winding its way through a verdant, populated valley).[4] He reasoned that this was the product of natural selection, in that creatures who migrated there more likely survived and procreated, and thus passed along their aesthetic wiring to progeny evolving through natural selection.
But this fails to explain our aesthetic appreciation for deadly settings, such as lightning storms, a cluster of icebergs, and desert regions, such as Wadi Rum in the south of Jordan, an extension of Israel’s Negev. In my experience, Wadi Rum is one of the most visually enchanting places on earth. Yet, the hot, red sands under a relentless sun can make even shoe-clad walking miserable, and the expanse of desolation, replete with shear granite outcroppings, would make one despair of survival if not for the air-conditioned tour bus standing nearby.
Filmmakers have used it in Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Dune, and The Martian, whose star, Matt Damon, remarked, “I was in awe of that place . . . One of the most spectacular and beautiful places I have ever seen, and like nothing I’ve ever seen anywhere else on Earth.” [5]  But how could it be beautiful? What sort of survival-of-the-fittest story could one concoct to explain the development of an appetite for deadly landscapes?
I’m sure that Darwinians could come up with something. Actually, they have to do this, given their devotion to “methodological naturalism,” conveniently overlaying their metaphysical materialism.  (Harvard biologist Richard Lewontin wrote that, no matter how contrived the scientific theories might seem, they had to stick with purely material accounts, lest a disruptive “divine foot” find its way in the doorway.) [6] Besides, nothing is foolproof since fools are so ingenious. Perhaps they can argue that the terrain is so awful that it’s a good place to hide out and have kids since no one wants to bother you there. Well, “Whatever,” and “Knock yourself out.” But far better to say that the “fullness thereof” includes not just the nutritional, hospitable, and industrially harnessable, but also the aesthetical, thanks to God’s astonishing kindness to the world’s inhabitants, to “those who dwell therein.”

[1] Edmund Burke, “Of the Passion Caused by the Sublime,” A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful, Harvard Classics, Volume 24, Part 2 (New York, P. F. Collier and Son, 1909-1914), Part II, Section 1. Accessed January 5, 2020 at https://www.bartleby.com/24/2/201.html.
[2] Immanuel Kant, Critique of Judgment (New York: Hafner, 1968), 100-101.
[3] Augustine, Exposition of the Psalms 24:2, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture, Old Testament VII, Psalms 1-50, edited by Craig A. Blaising and Carmen S. Hardin, Thomas C. Oden, general editor (Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity, 2008), 185
[4] Denis Dutton, The Art Instinct: Beauty, Pleasure, and Human Evolution (New York: Bloomsbury, 2009), 14­­–15.
[5] “Ridley Scott and Matt Damon on Going to Jordan to Recreate Mars.” Yahoo! Entertainment (September 29, 2015). https://www.yahoo.com/entertainment/ridley-scott-and-matt-damon-on-going-to-jordan-to-230136329.html.
[6] See Richard Lewontin, “Billions and Billions of Demons,” a review of Carl Sagan, The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark, New York Review of Books (January 9, 1997). This quote was discovered by Philip Johnson and given widespread attention in his book, Defeating Darwinism by Opening Minds (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1997), 81.

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Having established a church in Philippi (Acts 16) where there was no synagogue, Paul now, having suffered in Philippi at the hands of Romans (16:19-24), goes to Thessalonica and uses the synagogue on three Sabbath days to reason with the Jews and “devout” Greeks from the Scripture (Acts 17:1-4). We are told that his method consisted of “explaining and proving that it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead, and saying, ‘This Jesus whom I proclaim to you, is the Christ.’” Many of those who heard his biblical exposition believed his message. Some Jews were offended and jealous (Acts 17:5) of Paul’s ability in expository reasoning. They resisted strongly the idea that the Messiah had come and they were not privy to this most historically pivotal event. How is this “Jesus” qualified as Messiah and why are Gentiles received as his people? This Paul is an imposter speaking of behalf of another imposter and deserves to be driven from the city. They appealed to the city authorities under the hypocritical guise of loyalty to Caesar. The entire controversy centered on the validity of Paul’s understanding of the Scripture and whether he was qualified to discern that Jesus was the Christ. Paul’s correspondence with the church at Thessalonica, therefore, had much material about the word of God vis a vis the authority of the apostle.
His preached word he and they believed was the Word of God. When they heard Paul preach, they accepted it, not simply as a man’s interpretation of verses compared to events, but as the “word of God.” Paul affirmed their conviction as the truth (1 Th 2:13). “Our gospel,” Paul recalled, came in the power of the Holy Spirit and brought them to be among the believers of Macedonia (1 Th 1:4, 5). He reminded them that, though pummeled in Philippi because of his preaching, he did not change the message. His “exhortation does not come from error” and is neither impure nor deceitful, but arises from one who was “approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel” (2:2-4). He was an “apostle of Christ,” and consequently a man of authority but used this authority only to “impart to you … the gospel of God.” Paul never wavered, even in the face of hostility and persecution, from his claim before the world that he was appointed by the risen Christ as an apostle. He never amended any teaching given in the context of that calling as possibly misperceived or as a matter of speculation or only informed opinion. This is one of the stubborn facts that must be considered when we ask if we have a word of truth about God and eternity. Has God spoken? In conjunction with the Hebrew prophets, Paul gives an unequivocal “Yes.”
When he gave further instruction on individual doctrines he wrote with confidence of God’s revelation: “For this we say to you by the word of the Lord that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord will not precede those who have fallen asleep, etc” (1 Th. 4:15-18). An articulation of the relation of the living to the dead in the context of the return of Jesus who “died and rose again,” events surrounding his return, and the manner of his gathering his people to himself, and the certainty of living in his glorious presence for eternity—these things are not manufactured by imagination but are soberly reported as propositions of revelation.
Also, when he gave instruction concerning the moral implications of gospel truth, he assumed the position as a spokesman from God: “We request and exhort you in the Lord Jesus, that just as you received instruction, …for you know what commandments we gave you through the Lord Jesus, … he who rejects this is not rejecting men but the God who gives his Holy Spirit to you” (4:1-8). These clear exhortations to sexual purity as one dominant aspect of sanctification went against the prevailing conduct of the culture and put the Pauline instruction at the level of divine mandate by revelation. Even so, when describing how they should work for self-sufficiency and peaceful relations Paul put his words in the sphere of absolute authority, “just as we commanded you” (4:11). In the second letter to these Christians, Paul reiterated this authority by expressing his confidence that they will “do what we command” (3:4). He follows that by introducing an element of church life that perhaps they had not practiced or seen clearly by saying, “Now we command you, brethren, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, that you keep away from every brother who leads an unruly life and not according to the tradition which you received from us” (3:6). Whereas the “tradition” of the elders, or the “tradition” of the Pharisees, or the “tradition” of men of empty philosophy (Colossians 2:8) was handed down from generations past, or “turned over” to contemporaries from historically-trusted sources, Paul’s instructions that he handed down, his traditions, that which he turned over to them were from God. This tradition was not handed down from hallowed halls of venerated historical sources but came from the mind and mouth of the eternal God. Again, when he learned that some were not working, he reminded them that he “used to give them this order,” and now again to these loafers he would “command and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ to work in quiet fashion” (3:12).
This conviction so ever-present in this correspondence is confirmed by pervasive New Testament testimony and conviction. In 1 Corinthians 2:10, Paul claimed that eternal things, things of divine grace, “God has revealed to us through the Spirit;” in 2 Corinthians 13:3, he zealously affirmed in a tense setting that “Christ is speaking in me.” In Galatians 1:12 as prelude to his extended argument for the exclusive claim to truthfulness of his gospel, he wrote, “I did not receive it from any man, nor was I taught it, but I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ.” In Ephesians 3:4, 5, Paul laid claim to “insight into the mystery of Christ” from its having been “revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit.” The writer of Hebrews 2:3, 4 warned of dire consequences for rejecting the message presented by the Lord himself that was “attested to us by those who heard,” to whom God bore witness by “signs and wonders and various miracles and by gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will.” In 1 John 4:6 the beloved disciple wrote that the “spirit of truth and the spirit of error” was to be defined in terms of hearing and obeying the message of the apostles: “We are from God. Whoever knows God listens to us; whoever is not from God does not listen to us” Peter claims that the word of the prophets receives its expected clarification through those who were eyewitness of the majesty of Christ and that their writings, like those of the prophets were the product of the inspiration of the Holy Spirit (2 Peter 1:16-21). That is why he can say that his readers should “remember the predictions of the holy prophets and the commandments of the Lord and Savior through your apostles.” He then can go on to commend Paul, even in the most difficult of his writings, as a producer of Scripture as free from error (2 Peter 3:2, 15-18).
Paul claimed revelatory and authoritative status not only for what he preached in his apostolic mission, but for what he wrote to expand or re-emphasize his spoken word. He told the Thessalonians, “I adjure you by the Lord to have this letter read to all the brethren” (1 Thessalonians 5:27). In his second epistle to this same church he wrote, “If anyone does not obey our instruction in this letter, take special note of that person” (2 Thessalonians 3:14). He also made sure they knew that the letter was from him: “I, Paul, write this greeting with my own hand, and this is a distinguishing mark in every letter” (3:17). Every letter that he wrote was to be taken as his word of apostolic authority arising from the commission of Christ and the revelation received from the Holy Spirit. His writings reconfirm what he spoke as he indicates in 1 Thessalonians 4:6 and 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5: “just as we told you before; … Do you not remember that while I was with you I was telling you these things?” Also, his writings expand what he spoke in giving further detail: “So then, brethren, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions which you were taught, whether by word of mouth or by letter from us” (2 Th 2:15). In 1 Thessalonians he wrote an expansion of his teaching to them on death, resurrection and the return of Christ (4:13-18).
He wrote in an authoritative apostolic manner to churches where he had never to that point preached. His most expansive exposition of the entire history of salvation was written to a church that he did not directly found and to which he had not been. He felt an apostolic obligation to instruct them and bear fruit among them (Romans 1:8-15). In this letter, both deeply personal and highly instructive doctrinally he gave coherent discussion on the relation between creation and the knowledge of God, the fall of Adam, the call of Abraham, giving of the law to Israel, the eternal issues of justice involved in the death and resurrection of Christ, divine sovereignty in the present based on eternal decrees within the mysterious communicative activities of the triune God, the relation between justification and personal pursuit of holiness, the church, the secular political authorities, his personal missionary ministry, and other related subjects. He expected them to receive this writing: “On some points I have written to you very boldly, because of the grace given me by God to be a minister of the gospel of God …according to the revelation of the mystery that was kept hidden for long ages” that he had received “according to the command of the eternal God, to bring about the obedience of faith” (Romans 15:15, 16; 16:25, 26).
Another issue concerning the word of revelation given to Paul as he wrote about it in these letters concerns the necessity of an effectual work of the Spirt to seal the truth in the hearts of hearers. The Spirit revealed these truths, he inspired the proper connections of words to the truth revealed, and he makes that revealed and inspired truth to be loved and trusted by the elect. Its subject matter should be, not only intriguing, but compelling in itself. The gospel that is revealed deals with sin, redemption, heaven and hell. Far outstripping the most coherent and carefully constructed systems of human philosophy, the gospel gives substantial knowledge of God. The person of Christ as communicated in this revelation is the most interesting, excellent, transcendently wise and compassionate, truthful, confident, clear-minded, exalted, humble, and determinatively purposeful person in all literature of all cultures of all ages. It is impossible within a neutral intellectual setting for the person of Christ and his striking and shocking work of redemption not to be the most fascinating subject and desired person of history. So compelling was Christ in every aspect of his person—God and man in one person—and work—completely innocent and positively righteous yet slain for sinners—that Paul can say with perfect rationality and with an approving conscience, “If anyone does not love the Lord he is to be accursed” (1 Corinthians 16:22).
But none who hear of him are in a neutral position.  Too much about God, righteousness, holiness, obedience, and judgment for enemies of truth to embrace him for who he claims to be. He is rejected when left to our natural enmity. Paul looks at this phenomenon in these letters to the Thessalonians. In 1 Th 2:14-16 he outlines Jewish opposition to the Gospel as well as that generated among the Gentiles in Thessalonica. In Thessalonica there was “much opposition” (1 Thessalonians 2:2) which Paul explained in 2 Thessalonians. 2:10 in terms of “the deception of wickedness for those who perish” creating an unwillingness to “receive the love of the truth so as to be saved.” Thus, we find that any willingness of spirit and mind to receive this message is an indication of effectuality under the Spirit’s power. Paul described this phenomenon early in the letters by observing that his preaching (1 Thessalonians 1:5) came “not in word only, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction.” In 1 Thessalonians 2:12, 13, he admonished them to “walk in a manner worthy of the God who calls you into his own kingdom and glory,” for this word “performs its work in you who really believe.” In speaking of the love implied in and commanded in the gospel Paul wrote, (1 Thessalonians 4:9),  “Now as to the love of the brethren, you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves are taught by God to love one another.” By his own power, God himself will “establish your hearts without blame in holiness before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all His saints” (1 Thessalonians 3:13). This truth of divine determination and absolute effectuality Paul repeats when he writes, “Now may the God of peace, himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved complete, without blame at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Faithful is He who calls you, and He also will bring it to pass” (1 Thessalonians 5:23, 24). This is consistent with the character of the new covenant as described in Jeremiah 31:33, 34, reiterated in John 6:45, and in 1 John 2:27 (“They will all be taught by God; … But as his anointing teaches you about everything and is true, and is no lie—just as it has taught you, abide in him.”). In 2 Thessalonians. 2:13, 14, Paul proposes the fitness of God’s prerogative in his pre-mundane love of some resulting in their election to salvation. Election to salvation consummates in each chosen one through the sanctifying influence of the Spirit embedding the natural the function of truth in their mind, heart, and will. This constitutes the call to salvation, as Paul stated it, “through our gospel.” Final salvation is summarized as “the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
The way in which Paul interweaves the truthfulness and revelatory character of Scripture in the Thessalonians letters, should give every Christian an absolute confidence in the Bible. As an extension of that confidence, we should have an intensified focus, a magnifying glass that takes diffused light and pinpoints one white-hot truth to which everything pertains—a focus on the Gospel. All of it is designed to move toward the Messiah’s being God’s salvation, the glory of His people Israel, and a light of revelation to the Gentiles.
Do not seek to employ any other methods than the truth. The Spirit of truth blesses the truth, in particular as truth culminates in and points to the Lord Jesus. The Spirit’s eternal existence consists of his procession from the Father and the Son as fully embodying the love of the Father in the Son and perfect delight in the Son and the Son’s necessarily reciprocal relationship to the Father. As the Spirit eternally proceeds within this essence summarized in eternal love, his peculiar operation in this fallen world is to communicate the revelation of this eternal purpose that is seen most vividly and clearly in the truth of the gospel. Paul exhibited no doubt that this gospel, revealed by God in Christ and then in truthful propositions about Christ, was the gospel he preached.

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