Hear, Read, Mark, Learn, Inwardly Digest

A Reflection on the Role of Scripture on Our Tradition

One of the great gifts of the community God is forming at Christ Church right now is that so many among us are new—new to the Episcopal tradition, new to Anglican Communion or tradition, or even new to faith itself.  That is a holy and joyful thing.  And it also means that it bears repeating often to those trying to figure out who we are and what we believe: Scripture is essential to our identity.

Anglican Christians are, first and foremost, biblical Christians.

“[We] believe the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to be the Word of God, and to contain all things necessary to salvation” (BCP, 526).  Every ordained cleric in the Anglican Communion and in the Episcopal Church vows to that truth at ordination.  It is the first vow ordinands take.  The Bible is not simply one authority among many.  It is the chief source of authority in the life of the Church, and everything else we claim—our tradition, our theology, even our reasoning—must be anchored in, accountable to, and illuminated by Holy Scripture.

St. Paul writes plainly: “All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness” (2 Timothy 3:16).  And the Psalmist declares similarly: “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Psalm 119:105).

Yes, we believe scripture is one source of authority among others, and we often speak in Anglicanism about Scripture, Tradition, and Reason.  But it is important to understand what that means: Tradition becomes a source of authority only insofar as it reflects the Church’s faithful reception of Scripture across generations—from the earliest centuries of Christianity onward, and the ways in which Christians have found faithfulness in the practices of their faith rooted in the witness of Scripture.  Likewise, human reason becomes a source of authority only when it is shaped and disciplined by the moral vision, wisdom, and truth of Scripture. On so many topics where technology, philosophy, and human flourishing has surpassed the imagination of the biblical writers, we ground our discernment in the tradition and reasoning of Scripture (ie: Artificial intelligence, biomedical engineering, end of life care, etc.)

So even the other “sources” are, in the end, mediated by Scripture.

The result being that the Bible stands in a unique place.  It is the primary witness to God’s saving work, and it remains one of the principle means of God’s ongoing, active grace among us.

In our tradition, we pray not only that we would understand the Bible, but that we would be transformed by it.  In the collect (prayer) appointed for the last Sunday before Advent, we ask God: “Blessed Lord, who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them…”(BCP, 236).

That is not the language of casual familiarity.  That is the language of a people who believe Scripture is meant to saturate our lives—words not merely to be studied from a distance, but received as something alive: a living Word that confronts us, comforts us, corrects us, and nourishes us.  That is why, in the Episcopal Church, we are absolutely immersed in Scripture.

Verse for verse, chapter for chapter, Episcopalians likely read more Scripture aloud in Sunday worship than almost any Christian tradition I can think of.  Week by week, we hear four lessons on a three-year cycle: Old Testament, Psalm, Epistle, and Gospel.  And beyond Sunday mornings, we are given the Daily Office—morning and evening readings on a two-year cycle, found in the back of the Book of Common Prayer.

We also believe that Scripture is best received not only individually, but communally.  Daily Bible study is advisable for all Christians, but Scripture comes alive in a particular way when we study it together—when we listen, wrestle, and wonder in community.  The Word of God forms us not as isolated readers, but as the gathered Body of Christ.

At the same time, we hold another important conviction: Scripture must be interpreted with humility, care, and context.  The Bible was written across many centuries, in multiple languages, within cultural and historical worlds very different from our own.  Its inspired witness is timeless, yes—but its meaning is often best understood when we ask patient and curious questions like:

  • What did this passage mean to its first hearers?

  • What was happening in the life of Israel, or the early Church, when these words were written?

  • How do we share in that context-and how do we differ from it?

  • What is God revealing here, not only then, but now?

So my hope for each of you—whether you have been reading the Bible for decades or are opening it for the first time—is that you would come to know this deep Anglican truth:

The Scriptures are not a burden. They are a gift.

They are God’s Word written, given to the people of God, so that we might be drawn ever more deeply into the life of Christ.

In the coming weeks, I hope to continue writing about the witness of Scripture in our Anglican tradition—especially about how Episcopalians approach difficult passages, why we do not fear honest questions, and how the Church has always welcomed faithful wrestling rather than shallow certainty.

The Bible is strong enough to hold our questions.  And God is patient enough to meet us in them.

Let us continue, together, to be a parish formed by Scripture—hearing it in worship, praying it in the Daily Office, studying it in community, and allowing it, day by day, to shape us into the likeness of Jesus our Lord.

Pax et Bonum!

Fr. Ben +

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