Given the situation of academic theological education, the study of scripture is one of many subjects that form an encompassing program of studies. Consequently, scripture is viewed as one of many fields that the student is supposed to master. Furthermore, given the common student mentality, which views the importance of a given subject in terms of its later usefulness, the same subject would be valued differently in different seminaries. For instance, canon law would be "more important" in a Catholic school of theology, as compared to its place in a corresponding Protestant institution; scripture would be "less important" for an Orthodox seminarian than for a Protestant student. The reason is simple. For an Orthodox priest, the mastery of liturgical rubrics is more important for his profession than knowledge of scripture. In other words, what I am trying to say is, the way a church understands itself becomes the reference for deciding the importance of what takes place within it. Hence, the contemporary jargon: the Orthodox approach to the Bible; the Catholic view of canon law; the Protestant understanding of the church. Moreover, each of these communities assumes that it stands in harmony, if not in direct line, with the early church. And it is precisely there that the problem lies. Was it this way "in the beginning"? The answer can only be an emphatic "No."

Even a cursory glance at the early patristic writings up until the 5th century will show that the church Fathers did not use such terminology as "the experience of the church" or "the living community of faith." Rather, their reference to the correctness of the faith of the community was the prophetic and apostolic teaching communicated through God’s servants, the prophets and the apostles. And no wonder, since they were raised on the one valid source of the knowledge of God, the only kanon of theology (or word about God), which was nothing other than the word of God Himself as imbedded in His scripture. And it is from this God that they learned His language. They learned that the biblical communities, Israel and the church, are always erring, sinning, and harloting after other gods. They learned that these communities are always in need of the prophets and apostles, whom God sends them, to chastise them and to call them back to the path that leads to salvation and life. The Fathers of the church did not earn their appellation as Fathers honoris causa; they earned it because they did to the best of their ability what every true father is supposed to do: they begot children and raised them with the authority of the one who knows better. And they did know better. For them, there was only one Father, the one in heaven. They were merely appointed by Him -- actually by His apostles, as witnessed in the Pastoral epistles -- to rule His household according to His rule as given "once and for all" through His prophets and apostles. Let us listen as the Apostle Paul instructs the "bishop" Timothy:

Command and teach these things. Let no one despise your youth, but set the believers an example in speech and conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. Till I come, attend to the public reading of scripture, to preaching, to teaching. Do not neglect the gift you have, which was given you by prophetic utterance when the council of elders laid their hands upon you. Practice these duties, devote yourself to them, so that all may see your progress. Take heed to yourself and to your teaching; hold to that, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your flock (1 Tim 4:11–16).

If, as we Orthodox maintain, salvation is the ultimate business of the church, then the main, if not foremost, occupation of the church’s leaders ought to be the study and teaching of scripture. How far we are from that understanding, when seminarians still challenge their teachers to prove the usefulness—notice that I did not say "necessity" -- of the study of scripture for daily parish life? How far we are from that understanding, when seminary curricula are increasingly tailored to the amount of material to be covered in a certain field. If this trend continues, then scripture soon will be allocated but a few hours in a semester. How else would the curriculum accommodate the ever-expanding fields of "Church History," "Patristics," "Systematic Theology," not to mention "Counseling," "Parish Council and Organizations," and the like? The classical answer is that times change, and one has to take that into consideration, if God is to speak to contemporary humanity.

But if we Orthodox are indeed as patristic as we claim, then scripture should be our kanon, our ultimate, if not sole, reference. And if scripture is indeed our ultimate reference, then it will tell us that God has always dealt with humanity in the same way, from Adam until the coming of Christ. It will tell us that God creates His community solely by means of His word. Those who imagine otherwise, who imagine that God continually finds new ways to express Himself, not only manifest their ignorance but deny the witness of scripture: that God has consummated His utterance in Jesus Christ. The kanon of scripture, ordained by our Fathers in the faith, is the complete expression of what God has intended to say, and that any subsequent "divine" utterances are to be patterned after scripture. This means that scripture is the sole kanon by which we determine whether any subsequent utterance – be it liturgical, Patristic, traditional, ecclesial, Orthodox, experiential, mystical, spiritual, or otherwise -— is indeed from God, or from His nemesis, Satan (2 Cor 11:3–4, 12–15). This was the practice of the early church, at least until the 5th century. Does our "church of today" stand as one with the early church? It is time that we Orthodox become serious and begin to treat this as our most essential question rather than our least considered presupposition.