For many years, I felt the key to “successful” Christian ministry lay in the preparation and the passion for that ministry. If I studied, nurtured a worshipping heart, prayed, sought to be holy in all my thoughts, and obeyed my Lord in all he commands, then God would bless. Obedience on every level (in my personal life, in my marriage and family) was the key to both spiritual formation and spiritual fruit.

My years as a church-planter in Belgium taught me differently as I saw the stark contrast between my small acts of obedience and the unexpected spiritual harvest that sometimes resulted. By this, I mean that I found it difficult to believe my own obedience would bring about such wonderful spiritual fruit. In several cases, I was genuinely surprised by the conversion of an individual to the gospel, and even more surprised by that person’s spiritual fervour for Christ. I saw lives transformed. I saw miracles. Clearly, there was more to it than my own obedience (1 Cor. 3:6-7). After all, I had been obedient before, and such things did not happen. What made the difference?

Many readers will know that Carey Theological College is named after William Carey, the English cobbler‑turned‑missionary whose life reshaped global mission. What is less known is that Carey’s ministry was held up and propelled forward by his friend Andrew Fuller, the pastor-theologian whose preaching and writing helped ignite the modern missionary movement. In The Gospel Worthy of All Acceptation, Fuller wrote that “all that is good is of Himself, and to Him belongs the praise of it.” My obedience mattered, but it could never account for the spiritual life that appeared before my eyes.

God asks Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, which he does, and then, as a result of his obedience, an amazing thing happens. “And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them, and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them.” What an astonishing moment for Ezekiel! God had knitted these dead bones together, and as a result of his obedience to prophesy. But his obedience was not enough. There was no life in the bones. Only God could put life in the bones. The Scriptures show us that God speaks by His Word and gives life by His Spirit, and the two are never separated in His saving work (James 1:18). Only God could send his Spirit to give life to what is dead.

My obedience to preach the Gospel is not enough. Only God can send His Spirit to bring life (2 Cor. 4:6). Fuller argued that sinners “will not come to Christ” because of the “aversion of the heart.” Ezekiel could prophesy to the bones, but he could not make them live (Acts 16:14). Only the Spirit can overcome the heart’s resistance and draw people to Christ (John 6:44). It is one task to stand before the dead and proclaim the Word of Life. It is quite another to plead with the Author of life to breathe life into the dead. So we must obey, and we must pray. We must preach, and we must beseech God to pour out his Spirit.

This is why Fuller insisted that preaching alone is never enough. The gospel is “worthy of all acceptation,” but only the Spirit enables sinners to accept it. So the preacher proclaims, and the church pleads.

Where does that leave us? It leaves those of us who are preachers with the words of Jesus in our hearts, “Apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15.5). I can obey God’s command to preach, but I cannot breathe life into dead hearts. And it leaves all believers with a wonderful task: to stand before the Author of life and ask him to send His Spirit to bring life. And as God gives life, we walk with new believers in the long, patient work of discipleship and mission.

And so we pray, “Lord, revive your church.”

William Carey said it well, “Expect great things from God; attempt great things for God.” Carey could ‘expect great things from God’ because Fuller showed that only God gives spiritual life. And he could ‘attempt great things for God’ because the gospel summons every hearer to turn to Christ.

Fuller taught that exhortation alone cannot awaken the spiritually dead; only the Spirit can. And so, like the early Baptists, we pray for God to breathe life where only He can.

Baptists love the Bible. We are people of the Book, and our emphasis on congregationalism and a believer’s church flows from our reading of Scripture. Through these distinctives, we see ourselves as having something unique to offer other Christians.‍

But our love of the Bible is not new or unique. We share this conviction with early Christians who contemplated Scripture and with Protestants who affirmed sola Scriptura. It is, in a sense, our common ground; we love the Bible as Christians always have.

Yet we sometimes overlook how common this appreciation for the Bible has been in church history. So in this article, I want to show that Christians across the centuries have shared a basic sensibility towards Holy Scripture: that God inspired it and that it holds the highest authority for life and godliness. To do so, I will pick a few representative examples from key theologians or confessions.

As I do so, I will not be arguing that figures like Augustine or Thomas Aquinas say what Baptists today say. Far from it. They do not, and the differences matter. But beneath the real disagreements, there is a shared conviction that Scripture is God’s Word, that it is trustworthy, and that it guides the faith and practice of God’s people.

That common ground is worth recovering and appreciating, especially for Baptists who sometimes imagine their view of Biblical authority and inspiration emerged in recent times.

Augustine of Hippo

Most Christians have seen Scripture as the inspired Word of God, with authority for life and godliness. Augustine of Hippo (354–430), for instance, began his life as a presbyter by asking for time off to study the Bible. And his pastoral career centred on biblical interpretation. If we asked Augustine why he spent so much time on the Bible, I imagine he would be shocked at the question.

What else could he do?

But we do not need to ask him, because he tells us throughout his writings why he dedicated his life to Scriptural interpretation. For example, while writing to a pastoral colleague named Jerome, Augustine affirms, “I will read the Holy Scripture with complete certainty and confidence in its truth, founded as it is on the highest summit of divine authority” (Letters 1–82, 393–94).

Of Holy Scripture, Augustine explains that it has “been received with the sanction of the highest canonical authority, and that it remains true in every part and not subject to doubt” (394). Augustine here tells us how Christians of his time viewed the Bible. It was the highest form of divine authority, and it remains true in all parts.

But that is not all that Augustine has to say. He points out to Jerome, “that it is from those books alone of the Scriptures, which are now called canonical, that I have learned to pay them such honor and respect as to believe most firmly that not one of their authors has erred in writing anything at all” (392). Augustine then concludes: “If I do find anything in those books which seems contrary to truth, I decide that either the text is corrupt, or the translator did not follow what was really said, or that I failed to understand it” (392). In short, the biblical writings remain the highest canonical authority, for Augustine, one in which “not one of their authors has erred in writing anything at all.”

We might wonder then how Augustine balances tradition with Scripture. And at least in this letter, we do not have to guess because he explains: “But, when I read other authors, however eminent they may be in sanctity and learning, I do not necessarily believe a thing is true because they think so, but because they have been able to convince me, either on the authority of the canonical writers or by a probable reason which is not inconsistent with truth” (392). Put simply, Augustine only listens to eminent thinkers when they can convince him by Scripture or sound reason.

Augustine shares these convictions with Jerome and so says: “I think that you, my brother, feel the same way; moreover, I say, I do not believe that you want your books to be read as if they were those of Prophets or Apostles, about whose writings, free of all error, it is unlawful to doubt” (392).

We might feel surprised at how much emphasis Augustine places on the authority, truthfulness, and lack of error in Scripture. We should not be. He says what virtually all Christians of his time would have said.

But if the Bible for Augustine played such a central role, did he really think people could understand it? In answer, he points to “the perfect clarity of scriptural expressions” against those who would accuse Scripture of falsehood (392). In modern theology, we call this the clarity or perspicuity of Scripture. In its main arguments, the Bible speaks clearly; where it does not, we compare obscure passages to clearer ones. Theologians sometimes call this the analogy of Scripture, and Augustine argues for this principle in his work On Christian Teaching.

Baptists should find themselves nodding along with Augustine’s affirmations about Holy Scripture. Baptists also affirm that Scripture comes from God, giving it the highest authority in our lives. As the CBWC’s 2022 identity statement notes, we maintain “The divine inspiration of Holy Scripture and its entire trustworthiness and supreme authority in all matters of faith and conduct.”

Augustine’s words here importantly shaped how Christians in the middle ages spoke of the Bible’s authority. One representative example, which shows Augustine’s influence, is Thomas Aquinas.

Thomas Aquinas

Thomas Aquinas, known as one of the key scholastic theologians of the medieval age, says virtually the same thing as Augustine in his Summa Theologica and other writings. Thomas affirms that sacred doctrine “accepts its principles not from other sciences, but immediately from God, by revelation” (ST I.Q1.A5). What he means here is that we receive Christian doctrine from God alone, not from other sciences, by which he means disciplines like philosophy.

On this point, Thomas emphasizes, “It was necessary for man’s salvation that there should be a teaching revealed by God beyond the philosophical disciplines, which are investigated by human reason” (ST I.Q1.A1). Why? Because, citing 2 Timothy 3:16, Thomas tells us that God inspired the Bible for our salvation. The articles of faith, explains Thomas, are revealed in Scripture (ST I.Q1.A8).

And so Thomas points out that “if our opponent believes nothing of divine revelation, there is no longer any means of proving the articles of faith by reasoning, but only of answering his objections, if he has any, against faith. Since faith rests upon infallible truth, and since the contrary of a truth can never be demonstrated, it is clear that the arguments brought against faith cannot be demonstrations, but are difficulties that can be answered” (ST I.Q1.A8).

For Thomas, then, Scripture is our infallible authority upon which faith stands. It is worth noting that Thomas here quotes Augustine’s letter to Jerome (noted above) and affirms with Augustine: “Only those books of Scripture which are called canonical have I learned to hold in such honor as to believe their authors have not erred in any way in writing them. But other authors I so read as not to deem everything in their works to be true, merely on account of their having so thought and written, whatever may have been their holiness and learning” (ST I.Q1.A8).

Once again, we find ourselves in agreement on Thomas’s basic approach to Scripture. Yes, we may disagree over other aspects with Thomas. But at least here, we can see a general approach to Scripture that Christians have maintained across the ages.

Protestant confessions

Protestant theologians wrote confessions during the 16th and 17th centuries to define their faith. For Lutherans, the Formula of Concord helped to define Lutheran identity. The French Confession of 1559, for example, did much the same for the Reformed Church of France. In due time, Baptists would also write confessions to explain their views, as in the First and Second London Baptist Confessions. And many others were produced. Most confessions included something to the effect that Scripture was a final authority for life and practice.

In a short article like this, it would be impossible to do justice to the rich diversity of these confessions. But it is worth highlighting two important confessions to illustrate the point. For example, the Church of England’s 39 Articles provide a representative expression of Scripture’s authority in Article 6:

“Holy Scripture containeth all things necessary to salvation: so that whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not to be required of any man, that it should be believed as an article of the Faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to salvation. In the name of the Holy Scripture we do understand those canonical Books of the Old and New Testament, of whose authority was never any doubt in the Church.”

Indeed, their authority has always been affirmed in the church. The 39 Articles affirm something common to all Protestants: that Scripture contains things necessary for salvation, that it should be believed, and that it has authority in the Church.

I would like to point to a second confession published by General Baptists in 1679, which calls itself the “Protestant Confession of Faith.” Protestant Baptists such as those who wrote this creed wanted to show their relationship to the larger Protestant movement. And in this creed’s thirty-seventh article, we read:

“The Authority of the holy Scripture, dependeth not upon the Authority of any Man, but only upon the Authority of God, who hath delivered and revealed his mind therein unto us, and containeth all things necessary for Salvation; so that whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not to be required of any Man, that it should be believed as an Article of the Christian Faith, or be thought requisite to Salvation.”

In other words, Scripture once again has divine authority, and we must hold to it for our salvation. We can see a common trajectory on the authority of Scripture here, one that spans Christian teaching across time.

William Carey

I cannot help but add one more name to this list, William Carey. Carey, after whom Carey Theological College is named, gave up a life of comfort to travel to India in order to evangelize the lost and translate the Bible. In his most famous writing, An Inquiry into the Obligations of Christians to Use Means for the Conversion of the Heathen, Carey argued from the authority of Scripture that Christians ought to go to the nations to spread the Gospel.

And of course, his desire to translate the Bible, expressed in his writings and in Article 9 of his Serampore Form of Agreement, demonstrates the high importance of Holy Scripture in his life. Lastly, as a Particular Baptist, Carey would have known the London Baptist Confession of 1689, which stated, “The Holy Scripture is the only sufficient, certain, and infallible rule of all saving knowledge, faith, and obedience” (Article 1).

Like Augustine, this confession asserts the certainty and infallibility of Scripture. Its sufficiency is for matters of salvation, or life and godliness.

Biblically Baptist

Christians across the ages have shared a basic sensibility towards the Bible. It came from God, it therefore has the highest authority, and believers ought to follow Scripture’s instruction. At times, Christians have disagreed on various details.

During the Reformation, for example, Protestants and Roman Catholics debated whether or not Augustine saw the church as authorizing Scripture as canonical. At times, believers also disagreed on which books should be included in the canon. In an article like this, I do not intend to bypass or cover up the real differences.

I only wanted to point out that a Baptist approach to Scripture as a divinely given gift that is sufficient for life and godliness is not novel. Christians have shared this basic sensibility across the ages, albeit with various nuances.

Baptists share this general approach, and we advance biblical distinctives of congregationalism and a believer’s church as one way we hope to renew Protestant churches. Here, Baptists place Scripture as the umpire of truth between the various traditions within Protestantism.

I am reminded of Gregory of Nyssa, one of the Cappadocian Fathers, who likewise sought to renew worship among fourth-century Christians. Some argued that custom was sufficient for doctrine. But in his thirty-third letter to Eustathius, Gregory points out:

“We do not consider it right to make the custom that prevails among them the law and rule of sound doctrine. For if custom is valid as a proof of soundness, surely we too may put forward in our defence the custom that prevails among us, and if they reject this, we surely do not have to follow theirs” (”Letter 33,” §3b).

So what then could arbitrate the truth of doctrine? At this point, Gregory knows of only one option: “Let the God-inspired Scripture therefore decide between us, and the verdict of the truth will surely go to those whose teachings are found to be in harmony with the divine words” (§3b).

When we find ourselves with different customs, Scripture provides us a sure guide forward. And Baptists have in their efforts to renew the church and evangelize the nations found themselves returning always to the Word of God, whose authority and nurturing grace have built up our congregations.

In short, Baptists do not have to feel abashed about their view of Scripture. They fit comfortably alongside the church of ages that Christ has been building by his Holy Spirit.

I know of no other passage in Scripture that has changed me more than James 2:13, which says, “Mercy triumphs over judgment.” I am not naturally a merciful person, and I often fail to live up to these words. Yet James argued we must become merciful, and that this mercy triumphs over judgmentalism.

Why?

Because mercy stands at the centre of what it means to be a Christian. So whether in the family, the church, or at work, we must remember that mercy triumphs over judgment, if we are to attain the high calling we have in Christ Jesus and avoid bitter fights with one another.

Mercy Is Love Applied

‍Mercy moves us to treat people as worthy of honour, kindness, and love. Love is the steady desire to will someone’s good, and mercy treats someone charitably even if they deserve judgment. Mercy is love applied. So when Jesus says that the Law hangs upon two things—love of God and neighbour—he includes acts of mercy (Matt 22:37–40). Or as he says elsewhere, “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:36).

If mercy is one application of love, what are other applications of it? Consider what Paul says in 1 Corinthians 13:4–7:

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

What an amazing set of virtues that flow from love. Small wonder, then, that God is Love itself (1 John 4:8, 16). And so we imitate God as we love others. Jesus did say after all: “just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34).

Notice that love bears all things and believes all things. In 1 Corinthians 13, we find Paul challenging us where it hurts. We are naturally suspicious of one another. We love to pigeonhole others into camps and think poorly of them. But we must believe the best of one another. Only then can we make headway into that unity of the Spirit to which God calls us (Eph 4:3).

Welcoming One Another is Love in Action

Love leads us to the unity of the Spirit that Jesus prays for in John 17. Paul illustrates this well in Romans 14–15. In this passage, Christians disagree with each other over what foods one may or may not eat and what days they may celebrate. You can imagine the setting. Sadly, Christians at times bite and devour each other over secondary issues.

But Paul says the most amazing thing in Romans 14:17. As a way to overcome this division, he says, “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” In Greek, the phrase “a matter of” does not exist. So it might be rendered more literally: “For the kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, but is righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.”

In other words, Paul urges the Romans to overcome their disagreements on secondary matters by remembering that God’s kingdom is righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. It is righteousness because God justifies us by faith; it is peace since we have peace with God and each other; and it is joy because we cannot help but feel grateful for what God has done for us in Christ Jesus.

Jesus Matters

And Jesus matters. Paul advances his argument for unity in the Spirit by saying: “welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God” (Rom 15:7). We must welcome each other as Christ welcomed us despite our differences.

And we may well have to live with differences over food and drink (Rom 14:13–16). Some of us may value certain holidays while others do not (Rom 14:5). And some of these beliefs may even proceed from faith (Rom 14:23). Even so, Paul tells us to accept one another as Christ accepted us across these differences.

We need not give up our secondary opinions; we may even try to persuade each other still! But we must remember that we are called to live in the Spirit because Christ has welcomed us.

And how did Christ welcome us? Consider Romans 5:10: “For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life.” God welcomes us in Christ even when we were enemies. Or read Romans 5:8: “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” He welcomes us as sinners!

In other words, God’s love for us in Christ meant that Jesus died for us out of love. He gave up his life even when we were sinners, enemies. That is the kind of welcome Jesus gives us into his kingdom. And there is no greater love than this, that one may lay down his life for another (John 15:13).

And Christ summons us to take up our cross, die to self, and pour out our love in mercy, so that we might attain the unity of the Spirit.

Unity in Love

These marching orders are not optional. On the night he was betrayed, Jesus prayed for our unity: “Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one” (John 17:11). And Paul urges us to “with all humility and gentleness, with patience, [bear] with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Eph 4:2–3).

I pray that we might all attain to that unity, so that we might walk in a manner worthy of our calling (Eph 4:1). The pathway is right before us: mercy triumphs over judgment. Love believes the best of each other. It welcomes each other as Christ welcomed us, despite real and lasting differences.

Because in the end, the kingdom of God is not about secondary differences but about righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit.

And here, we get to the heart of theological education. We must love the Lord our God with our minds, and we must have our hearts right before God. When Jesus says that the Law hangs on two things—love of God and neighbour as ourselves—this duplex love gives us marching orders at Carey.

And my hope for Carey is that we might exhibit this love, so that we will read Scripture as Jesus does. How can we know God, who is Love (1 John 4:8, 16), if we ourselves do not love? As John tells us, “love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God” (1 John 4:7).

The alternative is unthinkable. Love must guide us, for God is Love. Nothing else can do it.

Jesus commissioned his disciples to heal, teach, and proclaim the gospel — a call that resonates across the centuries.

This call to ministry is alive today as it was two millennia ago, and the Church has never needed faithful leaders, ministers, and servants more than it does now.

That’s how God designed the body of Christ to function: as a community equipped for service.

For more than half a century, Carey has been answering this call, training leaders to steward the gospel, through our pastoral and theological programs. Today, we are stepping into a renewed mission, grounded in Scripture, classical Protestant teaching, and our Baptist tradition.

This renewal is more than words. It is a recommitment to why Carey exists: to equip leaders who are totally committed to the Word of God and faithful to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.

This season of renewal builds on recent steps that have strengthened Carey’s identity as a seminary and ministry. In 2025, our Board of Administration formally adopted the CBWC Identity Statement, rooting our mission firmly in Protestant and Baptist teachings.

When Christ sent out his disciples, he warned them about persecution and taught them to be both wise and gentle (Matthew 10:16). This advice from our Lord is as relevant today as it was then. It has informed Carey’s mission to form resilient leaders marked by wisdom, courage, and meekness, firmly anchored in the truth of God’s Word.

In a rapidly changing world, the Church needs leaders grounded in Scripture, faithful to unchanging truths, prepared to navigate both the joys and challenges of ministry. General Baptist leader Dan Taylor, writing to pastors in 1795, reminded them that for the faithful minister, “Christ’s word alone must direct in all cases, and decide in all controversies.” Carey seeks to cultivate precisely that kind of leadership. It’s a community where discipleship, integrity and courageous service have the space and conditions to thrive and grow under the Lordship of Christ.

Guided by this mission, Carey’s Vision is to be a leading institution in the recovery and cultivation of the classical Baptist intellectual and spiritual tradition, for the renewal of the church.

This vision informs every aspect of Carey’s life, from the rigour of our academic programs to how we engage with student residents, alumni, churches, and ministry partners. We aim to foster a community where theological depth and pastoral character can converge. In turn, students are equipped to faithfully shepherd congregations, teach Scripture with clarity, and embody Christ’s mercy, grace, and truth.

But Carey’s mission is carried forward not by us alone, but by a community committed to the formation of faithful leaders for the Church.

In this season of renewal, we invite you to join us: through prayer, participation, and partnership.

Seminary courses aren’t only for seminarians. Carey’s Baptist Identity course is open to anyone who wants to explore the Baptist tradition and gain a confessionally grounded introduction to Baptist theology. Participants include church-going laypeople, pastors, and seminarians alike. Offered fully online, the course may be taken for academic credit or audited at a reduced rate.

There is a place for you in what God is doing at Carey, whether you are discerning a call to study, considering student residence, supporting the work of theological education through giving, or st

anding with us in prayer.

We invite you to join us through this season of renewal.

Dr. Colin Godwin
President, Carey Seminary
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