The incertitudes of Protestantism had pervaded more than one Catholic school, especially in Germany. Jahn, in his introduction to the books of the Old Testament, confounds inspiration with assistance. A book composed by the mere light of reason and pure human industry might be placed on the catalogue of Holy Writ, if the church declared God had preserved the writer from all error in the composition of the work. Who does not see the falseness of a system which would include all the dogmatic decrees of the popes and councils in the canon of Scripture? Others confound inspiration with revealed truth. Every book written according to the precise spirit of divine revelation could be placed in the canon. According to this, not only the definitions of popes and councils, but many ascetic works, sermons, and catechisms, might be reckoned among the Holy Scriptures.
Finally, others, desirous of explaining the difference to be seen in the various books of the Bible, think several kinds of inspiration are to be distinguished. Sometimes the truths the sacred writer had to record were above human comprehension, or at least unknown to him, and could only be learned by actual revelation. The inspiration God accords for this class of truths supersedes all effort on the part of the writer. It is a suggestive inspiration, or, as it is called, antecedent.
If the sacred writer was himself aware of the facts he related, and the philosophical maxims he proposed to insert in his book, or if he had drawn from any other source the truths he undertook to record, he had no need of suggestive inspiration. His book, however, is to be regarded as the work of God if he received special assistance to guide him in the choice of the truths he recorded, and prevent him from making any mistake in expressing himself. This is what is called concomitant inspiration.
Finally, suppose a work composed by mere human wisdom, without any other participation on the part of God than general assistance, and it comes to pass that God, by the testimony of his prophets, or the voice of the church, declares this book exempt from error, it is thereby endowed with infallible authority, and may be reckoned among the Scriptures. This kind of approval has been styled, though very improperly, subsequent inspiration.
These three distinct kinds of inspiration have been taught by eminent theologians, such as Sixtus of Sienna (Biblioth. Sac. l. viii. Hæres, 12 ad. obj. sept.), Bonfrère (Proloq. c. viii.), Lessius and Hamel (Hist. Congreg. de Auxiliis, a Livino de Meyere, l. i. c. ix.). But these doctors never actually applied this distinction to the books that compose the canon of Scripture. It was for them a mere question of possibility: could books thus authentically approved have a place in the Scriptural canon? They replied in the affirmative. But are there actually any of our holy books that are wholly due to human industry, and which God has declared sacred by subsequent approval? We give Lessius’ opinion: “Though I do not believe this kind of inspiration produced any of our canonical books, I do not think it impossible” (loc. cit.).
But the wise reserve of these great theologians has not been imitated by all. A learned German professor, who is likewise a highly esteemed author, has not hesitated to apply the distinction of these three kinds of inspiration to the existing books: “The kind of inspiration,” he says, “that produced such and such a book, or such and such a passage, it is almost impossible to determine in particular. We can only say that the parts where we read, Thus saith the Lord, or a similar formula, probably belong to the first kind of inspiration; the historical narrations that came under the writer’s observation belong to the third (subsequent inspiration); the poetical books seem to come under the second (concomitant inspiration).”[66]
These systems, it is manifest, weaken one’s idea of the inspiration of the sacred volume as always understood by the church. We want an inspiration by virtue of which the book is really the work of God, and not of man—the truths it contains of divine, and not of human, origin: man is the instrument, he who dictates is the Holy Ghost: man lends his hand and pen, the Spirit of truth puts them in action. But in the systems referred to, it is not really God who speaks: it is man. Supernatural testimony gives indeed a divine authority to a book, but it could not make God the author of what was really composed by man. And though these writings should contain the exact truths of revelation, they would be as much the result of human wisdom as sermons, catechisms, ascetic books, and even the creeds and decrees of councils which clearly state the doctrines of the church.
It was the duty of the council to put an end to interpretations which, depriving the sacred books of the prestige of divine origin, diminished their authority among the faithful. It has therefore defined what every Catholic must believe concerning the degree of inspiration accorded to the sacred writers. This definition is first stated in a negative form: “The church holds them (the Holy Scriptures) as sacred and canonical, not for the reason that they have been compiled by mere human industry, and afterwards approved by her authority; nor only because they contain revelation without error.” To this definition in a negative form succeeds a positive one, in which the council declares the essential condition of a book’s being placed in the canon of Scripture—“because, having been written under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, they have God for their author”: propterea quod Spiritu Sancto inspirante conscripti, Deum habent auctorem.
The council, therefore, by this dogmatic definition, has excluded any other meaning to the inspiration of the Scriptures that does not ascribe them to the special agency of God. The schools are still free to discuss what this divine operation consists in, and the conditions on which a book may be said to have God for its author. But they must first reject every explanation that reduces the agency of God to mere assistance, and, still more, to subsequent approbation. It is in this sense we must understand the fourth canon of the second series: “If any one shall refuse to receive for sacred and canonical the books of the Holy Scriptures in their integrity, with all their parts, according as they were enumerated by the Holy Council of Trent, or shall deny that they are inspired by God, let him be anathema.” It is the same anathema pronounced by the Council of Trent, to which the Council of the Vatican has added the express mention of the inspiration of the Holy Ghost.
There are other important observations to be made concerning this definition. Though by no means favorable to the system of Sixtus of Sienna, Bonfrère, and Lessius, it does not, however, condemn them in formal terms. These theologians, as we have said, only considered the subject in abstracto: Would subsequent inspiration or approbation give a book a right to be placed in the canon?—a verbal question rather than one of doctrine. It is certain that such a book would have a sacred authority, but it is also certain that it could not be called the work of God in the same sense as the holy books now in our possession. The council, in its definition, only considered the actual point; it declared all the books of our canon have God for their author, because the Holy Ghost was the chief agent in their composition. But the opinion of the modern exegete who applies the doctrine of subsequent approbation to the books contained in our actual canon appears to us really condemned by the new definition.