“All or nothing” is a phrase that appears in different contexts such as finance, entertainment, psychology, politics, and sadly even theological scholarship and discourse. Some might quizzically wonder why an all or nothing approach to theological scholarship falls into the sad category. Is not theology about truth, and claims are either true or false, thus theological scholarship is an all or nothing discipline? If we are talking about the difference between the truth and a lie, right versus wrong, or Christ versus anti-Christ, then yes, we must take an all or nothing approach. However, while the discipline of theology is full of truths that we must affirm, there are also many things that are difficult to understand. The apostle Peter famously said of Paul’s letters, “There are some things in them that are hard to understand” (2 Pet 3:16). The Westminster Confession (1647) echoes this sentiment when it admits, “All things in Scripture are not alike plain in themselves, nor alike clear unto all” (1:7). In the face of the inspired admission that some things in Paul’s letters are hard to understand and a confessional acknowledgement to the same end, can we take an all or nothing approach on every disputed point of theology? Can we draw the lines of right versus wrong and assume that our own position is always correct and thus excommunicate every element emanating from another’s views? The lion’s share of prudence would advise against such an all or nothing approach, since who among us can guarantee that we are correct all the time on every point and our foes are wrong because they profess truth mixed with error?

Yet despite the dictates of common sense, in some quarters theological scholarship shows signs of embracing an all or nothing approach. To put this in more colloquial language, if a person advocates one wrong idea, they get cancelled. While such a pattern is certainly not novel to our present cultural moment, its rise and popularity is cause for concern. If we get one thing wrong, does it invalidate everything that we say? Is the sword the right metaphor for describing our attitude towards the perceived significance of error? Do we swing and chop away to eliminate an entire body of thought because of one error? While people may swing swords with reckless abandon, the preferred metaphor is the surgeon’s scalpel. If we perceive an error in someone’s thought, we should instead excise the problematic element and retain the rest of the body of truth. The scalpel has been the preferred instrument of choice in previous ages of the church, and our present cultural moment beckons us to retrieve its use for the sake of improving our theological scholarship and discourse to the betterment of the church’s corporate life.

In order to understand how we arrived at an all or nothing approach to theological scholarship, I first briefly survey some of the causes behind this mindset. Second, I explore opinions of theologians from the early modern period to show how they took an eclectic approach to their theological scholarship. Third, and finally, I reflect upon the need for using scalpels as a tacit admission of our own intellectual limitations—that we need to pursue our scholarship in humility rather than the arrogance of an all or nothing approach.

1. On the Origins of the Sword

Whence the origins of the all or nothing approach in theology? Diagnosing the sources of a historical and cultural phenomenon can be a tricky business. Nevertheless, I propose several different founts of the present streams of certitude in our theological discourse: the rise of worldview, philosophical holism, and groupthink driven by tribalism.

1.1. Worldview

Despite the popularity that the worldview concept enjoys in our present-day theological scholarship and discourse, the concept is of Enlightenment origins. In his Critique of Judgment Immanual Kant (1724–1804) put forth the idea that people needed to dig beneath the substrate of the world’s appearance and our understanding of it, or worldview. We need to unite our perception of the world entirely under one concept that explains the whole.¹Immanuel Kant, Critique of Judgment: Including the First Introduction, trans. Werner S. Pluhar, reprint ed. (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1987), 111–12; cf. David K. Naugle, Worldview: The History of a Concept (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 58–59. Other philosophers took this idea and posited the notion that different races of people developed competing explanations of the world and that each worldview was unique to each race.²Naugle, Worldview, 68–107, 187–208. There was no universal human, no commonly shared existence, and thus the different worldviews were incommensurable, or incompatible. An imaginary Venn diagram illustrates this point. According to a common notion of worldview, the two circles representing the different systems of thought do not at all overlap—there are no shared interpretations of the world. The two circles are hermetically sealed systems, allergic and incompatible to any and all competing claims.

Presbyterian theologian and apologist James Orr (1844–1913) embraced the worldview concept and the notion of incommensurability in his own theology: “The Christian view of things forms a logical whole which cannot be infringed on, or accepted or rejected piecemeal, but stands or falls in its integrity, and can only suffer from attempts at amalgamation or compromise with theories which rest on totally distinct bases.”³James Orr, The Christian View of God and the World as Centering in the Incarnation, reprint ed. (Edinburgh: Elliot, 1907), 16. He promotes the idea that Christianity is an all or nothing venture and cannot in any way be mixed with any other theories. If Orr means that Christianity cannot be mixed with pagan religious notions, then he is correct. The Bible itself proposes this type of all or nothing approach: “What accord has Christ with Belial? Or what portion does a believer share with an unbeliever” (2 Cor 6:15)? Yet, theologians applied worldview incommensurability not merely for the doctrine of salvation but to all departments of knowledge.

Cornelius Van Til (1895–1987) argued that Christ had to be the starting point for all knowledge, and on this basis “the Christian life and world view … presents the only true interpretation of human experience.”⁴Cornelius Van Til, Christian Apologetics (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1976), 38, emphasis added. To admit any principle from unbelieving thought compromises the purity of truth, but Van Til even extended this idea to Christian thought. In other words, the only true form of knowledge is that which is found in Reformed theology, not Greek pagan philosophy, Roman Catholicism, or Arminianism. These other systems of thought were compromised, and thus to admit any of their corrupt elements committed a theologian to synthesis thinking—trying to combine the knowledge of Christ with unbelief. Van Til was explicit in his agreement with Kant on this point: “This is the significance of Kant’s ‘Copernican Revolution.’ It is only in our day that there can therefore be anything like a fully consistent presentation of one system of interpretation over against the other. For the first time in history the stage is set for a head-on collision. There is now a clear-cut antithesis between the two positions.”⁵Cornelius Van Til, introduction to The Inspiration and Authority of the Bible, by B. B. Warfield, ed. Samuel G. Craig (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1948), 23–24. Theologically shaped worldviews are now on the course for a head on collision rather than a meeting of the minds. Van Til rejected entire systems of thought if he found one misinterpreted fact.⁶E.g., Cornelius Van Til, Defense of the Faith, reprint ed. (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1967), 74.

1.2. Philosophical Holism

A second contributing factor comes from the philosophy of G. W. F. Hegel (1770–1831) and his notion of philosophical holism. Hegel argued that any one individual idea requires understanding the greater whole for its proper comprehension. There is no truth except for the whole truth.⁷Bertrand Russell, A History of Western Philosophy (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1965), 730. Bertrand Russell (1872–1970) illustrates this point when he states the proposition: John is the father of James. Before we can understand this claim, we need to know who James and John are. To know John means to know everything about him. Who are John’s parents, wife, and children? Is he a good or bad person? Russell rightly points out that this process eventually leads to trying to define the whole universe rather than to say something true about John. To use the word John intelligently, we do not need to know everything about him but only enough to recognize him.⁸Russell, A History of Western Philosophy, 743–45. Hegelian holism fits like a hand in a glove with Kant’s notion of worldview. All theological claims are part of wider seamless systems of thought, and the system cannot be broken apart, nor can parts of the system be used in other systems.

Holism flowered with the onset of the Enlightenment, where philosophers looked upon earlier generations with disdain because they believed their own systematic and holistic approach to philosophy was superior to the eclecticism of the past. Eclectic philosophers were disinterested in schools of thought and were willing to think for themselves and embrace the truth wherever they found it.⁹Pierluigi Donini, “The History of the Concept of Eclecticism,” in The Question of “Eclecticism”: Studies in Later Greek Philosophy, ed. J. M. Dillon and A. A. Long (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988), 15–33. Systematic philosophers rejected eclecticism because of its perceived mongrel nature and instead preferred systems defined by one central concept, one concept to bind all others, and by the power of reason to define and characterize the whole worldview.¹⁰Leo Catana, The Historiographical Concept “System of Philosophy”: Its Origin, Nature, Influence, and Legitimacy (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 1–10, 283–329.

1.3. Groupthink Tribalism

A third contributing factor is the rising tide of groupthink tribalism. First, what is groupthink? Groupthink is when a group of people collectively embrace the same set of ideas and outlook over and against opposing points of view. There are three defining rules of groupthink. (1) A group of people share a common view, opinion, or belief that they believe is inerrantly correct. (2) The group’s belief ignores facts that do not fit their collective idea, and thus their conviction is largely subjective. Their collective conviction makes them part of an “in-group.” Anyone who does not agree with them can be ignored. And (3) the in-group must treat anyone else’s views as wholly unacceptable. Opposing views must be mercilessly caricatured and attacked as inferior and erroneous.¹¹Christopher Booker, Groupthink: A Study in Self Delusion, ed. Richard North (London: Bloomsbury Continuum, 2020), 2–3. Groupthink is not confined to theological scholarship and discourse but appears in all sorts of different places in life: in politics, war, or foreign policy. Recall the 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor by the Japanese Imperial Navy. American military leaders believed that an attack was unthinkable until it actually happened and crushed the groupthink conviction.¹²Booker, Groupthink, 2. A generation earlier the collective groupthink of American naval leadership believed that battleships were the unassailable kings of the sea until in 1923 they shed literal tears as they watched General Billy Mitchell drop a bomb from an airplane and sink a naval warship. Groupthink about the battleship was sunk by one tiny bomb.¹³H. Paul Jeffers, Billy Mitchell: The Life, Times, and Battles of America’s Prophet of Air Power (Duluth, MN: Zenith, 2006).

Groupthink is not restricted to our present cultural climate. As long as humans have existed in a fallen world, they have created in-groups and cliques. The apostle Paul battled this mentality at Corinth when he opposed the various factions (1 Cor 3:4). Nevertheless, communication technologies, the internet, and social media have only fanned the flames of groupthink and tribalism. Identity politics has come upon Western culture in its efforts to base unity on various perceived and constructed identities.¹⁴Douglas Murray, The Madness of Crowds: Gender, Race and Identity (London: Bloomsbury Continuum, 2019); Helen Pluckrose and James Lindsay, Cynical Theories: How Activist Scholarship Made Everything about Race, Gender, and Identity—and Why It Harms Everybody (Durham, NC: Pitchstone, 2020). Groupthink tribalism can be easily verified through anecdotal evidence. Do an internet search on the phrase, “While I do not agree with everything,” combined with the world “theology,” to see how many times it is invoked when positively citing or quoting a source. Authors regularly invoke this phrase to ensure that no one questions their tribal loyalty when they quote someone outside of the tribe. It begs the question, however: When does anyone ever entirely agree with another person? Yet, in the present all or nothing climate of theological discourse, people rush to the conclusion that to quote someone means that one totally agrees with the quoted author on everything.

Worldview, holism, and tribal groupthink do not exhaust the causes for our all or nothing context in which we presently find ourselves, but these three trends help us to see why theological discourse suffers. These three trends also stand in stark contrast to theologians of the past.

2. On the Use of the Scalpel

If current-day theological scholarship and discourse is prone to using a sword to cleave views asunder, then past generations used a surgeon’s scalpel either to excise problematic elements or carefully extract ideas for use in their own theology. We can briefly examine three examples: Francis Turretin on Roman Catholic baptisms, Stephen Charnock on natural theology, and Francis Cheynell on philosophy.

2.1. Turretin and Baptism

Polemics between Reformed theologians and Roman Catholics in the seventeenth century were certainly intense. The Westminster Confession, for example, calls transubstantiation the source of “gross idolatries,” the sacrifice of the mass as “most abominably injurious to Christ’s one, only sacrifice,” and the pope as the anti-Christ (29:2, 6; 25:6). Francis Turretin (1623–1687) swims in this stream and believed that the Roman Catholic Church was the great whore of Babylon mentioned in the book of Revelation (Rev 17:1–18), the city that lures and leads people astray into idolatry.¹⁵Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, trans. George Musgrave Giger, ed. James T. Dennison Jr. (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1992–1997), 18.14.1–23. Given these blunt assessments of Roman Catholic claims on the Lord’s Supper and on papal and church authority, we might quickly conclude that Turretin would reject everything related to Rome. Yet, he takes a scalpel to the question of what truth might still be present in Rome: “It is one thing to retain something of the true church; another to be the true church simply; as it is one thing for the body to have some sound parts, another for the body to be sound simply.” Turretin then illustrates this point from the Old Testament and church history: “The Pharisaic church retained something of the true church in the time of Christ, nor yet on that account was she a true church. The same is the judgment concerning the Arian, Donatist and other factions whose baptism and ordinations the Catholics never repeated.”¹⁶Turretin, Institutes 18.14.24.

Turretin therefore believed that the Roman Catholic Church still had elements of truth in its theology, such as the Apostles’ Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Ten Commandments. He admitted that Rome retained the fundamentals of Christian truth, but this did not mean that Rome was a true church or that they had the gospel right.¹⁷Turretin, Institutes 18.14.25–26. Given his scalpel approach, Turretin, like the other Reformers such as Martin Luther (1483–1546) and John Calvin (1509–1564), was willing to accept Roman Catholic baptisms:

The verity of baptism proves indeed that truth of a church with regard to Christianity in general, in opposition to assemblies of unbelievers; but not with regard to Christianity pure and purged from the errors of heretics. For true baptism can be found among heretics who are not the true church; as true circumcision and sacrifices to the one God were consecrated in the church of the ten tribes, which was not on that account a true church.¹⁸Turretin, Institutes 18.14.27.

Turretin could acknowledge the acceptability of a Roman Catholic baptism even if Rome had numerous doctrinal errors. Turretin and early modern Reformed theologians did not take an all or nothing approach to doctrine.

2.2. Charnock and Natural Theology

Stephen Charnock (1628–1680) is well-known for his Existence and Attributes of God, a monumental work of titanic proportions. The work began life as a series of doctrinal sermons on theology proper but morphed into a massive theological treatise on the doctrine of God. Charnock has been described as a “diligent student, specializing in biblical languages, Reformed and scholastic theology, patristics, and philosophy.”¹⁹Joel R. Beeke and Randall J. Pederson, Meet the Puritans: With a Guide to Modern Reprints (Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage, 2006), 142. Thus, readers expect that he gives a Reformed treatment of the doctrine of God. In the present day, Reformed theologians have claimed that natural theology may have a place in Arminian or Roman Catholic theology, but certainly not in a theology that would be Reformed.²⁰Richard B. Gaffin Jr., “Some Epistemological Reflections on 1 Cor 2:6–16,” WTJ 57 (1995): 103–24, here 124. More recently, see Jeffrey D. Johnson, The Failure of Natural Theology: A Critical Appraisal of the Philosophical Theology of Thomas Aquinas (Conway, AR: Free Grace Press Academic, 2021); cf. David VanDrunen, “Thomistic Natural Theology and Its Implications: A Review Article of Jeffrey Johnson’s The Failure of Natural Theology,” Journal of International Reformed Baptist Studies (2023): 109–26. An all or nothing approach colors this claim: there is supposedly no overlap between Rome and the Reformation. Yet, Charnock presents a different take. Charnock’s first discourse is on the existence of God, where he employs natural theology to demonstrate God’s existence. Unlike some contemporary Reformed theologians who refuse to appeal to Roman Catholic authorities, Charnock positively appealed to medieval theologians such as Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), Roman Catholic theologian Domingo Bàñez (1528–1604), and early medieval Eastern theologian John of Damascus (ca. 675–749).²¹Stephen Charnock, The Existence and Attributes of God, ed. Mark Jones, 2 vols. (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2024), 67, 69, 70. For example, he appeals to the human perception of creation’s perfection and asks who can see this attribute and not look to the cause, namely, God. He then positively cites Aquinas’s five ways to demonstrate God’s existence.²²See Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, trans. Fathers of the Dominican Province, repr. ed. (Allen, TX: Christian Classics, 1948), Ia q.2 a.3. And unlike contemporary theologians, Charnock does not wave the flag of tribalism. He does not say, “Now while I do not agree with Aquinas on everything…” Charnock crossed historical and confessional boundaries to appeal to authorities to argue for a natural theology for God’s existence. He used a scalpel rather than a sword to excise truth and employ it in his own theology.

2.3. Cheynell on Philosophy

Unlike some contemporary Reformed theologians who are tribally committed to certain philosophical or theological views, Francis Cheynell (1608–1665) took a different approach. Cheynell was a Presbyterian, but he was also, like his early modern peers, theologically eclectic. Concerning philosophy, Cheynell writes:

We ought not to swear allegiance to any sect of Philosophers, whether Stoicks, Epicures, Platonists or Peripatetiques, but we must select and embrace whatsoever is true and faithfully delivered concerning God by any Sect; and the Truth selected out of all Sects is not vaine Philosophy, but Natural Divinity. There is something of the Image of God & Law of Nature written in our hearts and consciences, as is evident by common experience and plain testimonie of the word of God, and therefore the Scripture doth not condemn all Philosophy, but vain Philosophy.²³Francis Cheynell, The Divine Triunity of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit (London: Gellibrand, 1650), 1–2.

Cheynell was convinced that no one philosophical school of thought had cornered the market on truth. Rather, he eclectically gathered truth from wherever he found it. He did not believe he was imbibing from pagan claims but rather discovering naturally revealed truths in the creation. Cheynell did not take an all or nothing approach but rather used his surgeon’s scalpel carefully to remove and redeploy truths that he found, no matter their source.

3. On Tacit Admissions of Humility

To be clear, some theological issues call for a sword. The apostle Paul, for example, rebuked the Galatian churches for abandoning the gospel. He drew a clear line between truth and falsehood and taught them that there was no compromise between them (Gal 1:8–9). There are times when we must reject a position entirely, such as when theologians compromise the gospel for the sake of cultural acceptability. To say that God has changed his mind on matters of sexuality is a view that runs completely against the grain of Scripture and the historic witness of catholic confessional conviction.²⁴See, e.g., Robert A. J. Gagnon, “The Deepening of God’s Mercy Through Repentance: A Critical Review Essay of The Widening of God’s Mercy: Sexuality Within the Biblical Story,” Themelios 49.3 (2024): 536–53. Thus the notion of God’s mutability must be rejected.

However, given the various philosophical and cultural influences (worldview, holism, and groupthink tribalism), to use a sword more widely in theological scholarship and discourse seems more common these days than a scalpel. While using a sword may give the impression of truth and satisfy one’s tribe, the all or nothing approach in theological scholarship and discourse breathes the air of arrogance and division rather than humility and peace. To take an all or nothing approach assumes that we have cornered the market on truth; it assumes that we alone possess the Spirit of truth. It places us in the dangerous position of assuming that we have all the answers and no errors. We can sit high on the perch of truth and look down upon other views held down by the gravity of error. While Kant’s worldview theory and Hegel’s holism is not the sole cause of today’s all or nothing approach, we should not fail to recognize that both philosophers’ theories grow from the soil of Enlightenment rationalism. They run with reason’s confident stride in all things rather than acknowledge that reason walks with a limp due to the noetic effects of sin.

Early modern theologians took an eclectic approach to theology because they recognized their own limitations. The fact that they were not averse to appealing positively to sources outside their tribe was not an effort at politicking or seeking greater influence but was a tacit admission of humility. They came to the banquet of knowledge as hungry beggars rather than confident masters.²⁵Alan Jacobs, Breaking Bread with the Dead: A Reader’s Guide to a More Tranquil Mind (New York: Penguin, 2020), 80. The person who takes an all or nothing approach to theology makes his own opinions the canon by which he measures truth.²⁶Alan Jacobs, A Theology of Reading: The Hermeneutics of Love (New York: Routledge, 2018), 90. Instead, like Cheynell who gleaned truth wherever he encountered it, we should acknowledge the truth in what others write and say. To admit the truthfulness in the views of others is not a sign of weakness but rather humility. We humbly acknowledge that God has suffused the world with his truth and we alone neither master nor possess it. When we appeal to authorities outside our tribes, we do not wager on the brilliance of another theologian but instead seek God’s truth in another image-bearer, even among those who “hold the truth in unrighteousness” (Rom 1:20 KJV).

4. Conclusion

The apostle Paul instructs us not to be conformed to this world but to be transformed by the renewal of our minds (Rom 12:2). Theological scholarship and discourse seem at times to be pressed into the mold of the all or nothing approach. There are certainly times when truth must stand in stark antithesis to the lie. In such cases we must cleave truth from the lie with a sword. But these days people seem more prone to drawing their swords and casting aside their scalpels. If theologians of the early modern period have anything to teach us, it is that we should probably be prepared to draw our scalpels more often than our swords. In many cases, drawing and using a scalpel calls for wisdom, but we should be mindful of the forces that shape and distort the church’s scholarship and discourse. Rather than always cleaving with a sword, we must instead make careful and deliberate incisions with a scalpel so we can recognize and use the truth no matter where we encounter it. Using scalpels in our scholarship and discourse can be one way to reduce the damaging effects of theological tribalism and taking one step closer to greater unity and love within the body of Christ at large.

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