Unpacking Joshua Charles’ Attack on Sola Scriptura

At Old Time Preaching, we stand unashamedly for the sufficiency of God’s Word, as 2 Timothy 4:2 commands us to “preach the word.” In this blog post, under our Catholicism vs. Christianity section, we tackle Joshua Charles’ misguided attack on sola scriptura. In his YouTube video, Charles attempts to dismantle the God-honoring principle that Scripture alone is the infallible rule of faith. Here is our rebuttal, exposing his misunderstandings and reaffirming the Bible’s supreme authority.

Let me begin by saying that Joshua Charles’ presentation, while articulate and emotionally compelling, is a textbook example of a Protestant succumbing to the siren song of Rome’s traditions under the guise of intellectual rigor. His rejection of sola scriptura—the God-honoring principle that Scripture alone is the infallible rule of faith—rests on a series of misunderstandings, misrepresentations, and, frankly, a failure to grapple with the sufficiency of God’s Word. As we’ve said countless times in our resources, the issue is not the clarity of Scripture but the willingness of the heart to submit to it. Let’s unpack Charles’ argument and see where it falls apart.

1. Misdefining Sola Scriptura and the Strawman of the Canon

Charles begins by claiming he correctly defines sola scriptura using the Westminster Confession of Faith, asserting that Scripture is the only infallible authority and that all necessary truths for salvation are found therein. So far, so good. But then he launches into his first objection: that sola scriptura is “logically incoherent” because it cannot define the canon of Scripture without an inspired table of contents. This is a tired Catholic talking point, and it betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of what sola scriptura claims.

Sola scriptura does not mean that Scripture must contain an explicit list of its own books to be authoritative. This is a category error. The doctrine asserts that Scripture, as God’s inspired Word, is the only infallible rule for faith and practice, not that it must self-authenticate its own boundaries in the way Charles demands. The canon’s recognition is a historical process, guided by God’s providence, not a theological claim requiring an infallible magisterium. Charles cites the Westminster Confession (Sections 9-10) to argue that Scripture alone must resolve all controversies, including the canon. But he misapplies this. The confession speaks of Scripture as the final authority for doctrine and practice, not as a mechanism for answering every historical question, like which books were recognized over time.

The canon’s formation was a process of discernment, not divine dictation. The early church, under God’s providential guidance, recognized the books that bore the marks of inspiration—apostolicity, doctrinal consistency, and widespread acceptance. This is not “extra-biblical tradition” in the Catholic sense, as Charles implies, but the natural outworking of God’s preservation of His Word. To demand an inspired table of contents is to impose a standard that Scripture itself never claims to meet. It’s like saying God’s Word is invalid because it doesn’t include a printing press manual. The canon is not a “controversy of religion” in the Westminster sense; it’s a historical reality that the church, fallibly but reliably, discerned. Charles’ objection collapses under its own weight—it assumes Rome’s need for an infallible authority to solve every problem, which is not a biblical requirement but a human craving for certainty.

2. The “Logistical Issue” and Sacred History: A Misreading of Scripture’s Development

Charles’ second objection is that sola scriptura is inconsistent with the sacred history narrated in Scripture, as figures like Adam, Noah, Abraham, and even the apostles operated without a completed canon. He calls this the “logistical issue,” arguing that if sola scriptura were divinely revealed, it would have been normative throughout biblical history. This is another misunderstanding, and it’s one we’ve addressed repeatedly in our resources on The Bible vs. Tradition.

Sola scriptura does not claim that Scripture was the sole authority at every moment in redemptive history. It applies to the post-apostolic church, after God’s revelation was completed in the New Testament. During the time of the patriarchs, God spoke directly through prophets, visions, and theophanies. During the Mosaic period, He gave the Torah through Moses. In the apostolic age, He spoke through the apostles, who were uniquely commissioned by Christ (John 16:13; 2 Peter 1:21). These were periods of progressive revelation, where God’s Word was being given, not yet fully written. Once the canon was complete, the apostolic office ceased, and Scripture became the sole infallible rule for the church.

Charles’ appeal to the Council of Jerusalem (Acts 15) is particularly telling. He claims the apostles relied on their own authority and the Holy Spirit, not Scripture, to resolve the dispute over Gentile circumcision. But this ignores the context. The apostles were still alive, exercising their unique authority as Christ’s representatives (Matthew 16:19; 18:18). Their decision was not a rejection of Scripture but a fulfillment of it, as they cited Amos 9:11-12 (Acts 15:15-18) to show God’s plan for the Gentiles. Moreover, their authority was temporary, tied to their role as eyewitnesses of the resurrection (Acts 1:21-22). After their deaths, the church was left with their inspired writings, which Paul himself declares sufficient to equip the man of God for every good work (2 Timothy 3:16-17). Charles’ attempt to pit apostolic authority against Scripture is a false dichotomy, as the apostles’ teaching became Scripture.

His claim that Scripture never specifies the canon’s closure is also misguided. The completion of the canon is implicit in the cessation of apostolic authority and the warnings against adding to God’s Word (Revelation 22:18-19; cf. Deuteronomy 4:2). The early church recognized this, which is why books like 1 Clement were never seriously considered canonical—they lacked apostolic origin. Charles’ “logistical issue” is no issue at all; it’s a misreading of progressive revelation and a failure to distinguish between the time of revelation and the post-apostolic era.

3. R.C. Sproul and the Canon: Misrepresenting Protestant Scholarship

Charles’ reliance on R.C. Sproul to undermine sola scriptura is perhaps the most disappointing part of his argument. He quotes Sproul’s statement that the canon is a “fallible collection of infallible books” and claims this admission destroys sola scriptura. This is a gross misrepresentation, and it’s the kind of selective quoting we’ve seen Catholic apologists use to distort Protestant positions, as noted in What R.C. Sproul Meant.

Sproul’s point, which Charles partially acknowledges but distorts, is that the church’s recognition of the canon was a historical process, not an infallible act. Protestantism has never claimed an infallible magisterium, nor does it need one. The canon’s reliability rests on God’s providence, not the church’s perfection. Sproul’s “1 in 10 jillion” comment reflects his confidence in the historical evidence—apostolic authorship, early church reception, and doctrinal consistency—not a reliance on human tradition. Charles twists this into a dependence on “extra-biblical tradition,” but this is a sleight of hand. The early church’s testimony to the canon is not “tradition” in the Catholic sense (an infallible, co-equal source of revelation) but historical evidence that corroborates what Scripture itself attests: its own authority (2 Peter 1:19-21; 2 Timothy 3:16).

Charles’ critique of Sproul’s “three rules” for canonicity (apostolic origin, church reception, doctrinal compatibility) is equally flawed. He claims these rules violate sola scriptura because they rely on extra-biblical evidence. But this confuses epistemology with ontology. The ontological authority of Scripture comes from God, not the church. The epistemological process of recognizing that authority involves historical investigation, just as we recognize the authorship of any ancient text. When Sproul cites apostolic origin (e.g., Luke under Paul’s sanction), he’s not appealing to an infallible tradition but to the historical consensus of the early church, which is consistent with Scripture’s internal claims (e.g., Paul’s endorsement of Luke in Colossians 4:14, Philemon 1:24). Similarly, the reception of books by the early church and their doctrinal consistency with undisputed texts (like the Gospels) are practical criteria, not violations of sola scriptura. Charles’ demand that every criterion be explicitly stated in Scripture is an unbiblical standard that Scripture itself does not impose.

Moreover, Charles’ claim that Sproul’s third rule (doctrinal compatibility) aligns with Catholic sacred tradition is a leap. Sproul’s point about Hebrews was that its canonicity was debated due to theological concerns, but ultimately resolved by its attribution to Paul. This is not “pre-existing doctrine” judging Scripture, as Charles alleges, but a recognition that inspired texts must cohere with the apostolic faith. The early church’s debates over Hebrews show they were discerning, not dictating, the canon—a process guided by the Holy Spirit, not an infallible magisterium.

4. The Slide to Rome: Charles’ Underlying Assumptions

What’s most striking about Charles’ argument is not its content but its trajectory. He claims he rejected sola scriptura as a Protestant, before reading Catholic sources, yet his objections mirror those of Catholic apologists like Trent Horn or Jimmy Akin, as we’ve addressed in our rebuttal to Trent Horn. His insistence on an infallible canon, his appeal to the early church as a quasi-magisterial authority, and his dismissal of sola scriptura as “self-refuting” are straight out of the Catholic playbook. This suggests that, despite his claims, Charles was already leaning toward Rome’s epistemology—an epistemology that demands absolute certainty from a human institution rather than trusting God’s Word.

Charles’ questions at the end—e.g., “How can the church be right on the canon but wrong on other doctrines?”—betray his assumption that the early church must be infallible across the board or not at all. This is a false dichotomy. Protestantism affirms that God providentially guided the church to recognize the canon, but it does not follow that the church was infallible in its theology or practices. The same church that recognized the canon also venerated relics, prayed to saints, and developed proto-Marian doctrines—practices Protestants reject as unbiblical, as detailed in Marian Idolatry. Charles’ logic would force us to accept Rome’s entire system, including its errors, simply because it got the canon right. This is not reasoning; it’s capitulation.

5. The Sufficiency of Scripture: The Biblical Answer

Let’s cut to the chase. The core issue is whether Scripture is sufficient to function as the sole infallible rule of faith. Charles denies this, but Scripture affirms it. In 2 Timothy 3:16-17, Paul declares, “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.” Notice the language: Scripture equips the believer for every good work. This is not a partial sufficiency, as Rome claims, requiring supplementation by tradition or a magisterium. It’s a total sufficiency.

Charles dismisses this verse because it doesn’t specify the canon’s closure. But that’s irrelevant. Paul’s point is that Scripture, as God’s inspired Word, is inherently sufficient. The historical process of recognizing which books constitute Scripture does not diminish its authority. Similarly, Isaiah 55:11 assures us that God’s Word accomplishes His purpose, and Hebrews 4:12 describes it as living and active. These texts don’t need a magisterium to validate them; they testify to their own authority.

The early church’s recognition of the canon was not an act of creating Scripture but of receiving it. As Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice” (John 10:27). The church heard the voice of the Shepherd in the inspired texts and distinguished them from forgeries like the Gospel of Thomas. This process was messy, as history often is, but it was guided by God’s providence, not an infallible institution. Charles’ demand for an infallible canon is a human construct, not a biblical one. God’s Word is trustworthy because it is His, not because a church declares it so.

6. The Irony of Charles’ Conversion

Finally, let’s address the elephant in the room: Charles’ conversion to Catholicism. He claims he rejected sola scriptura as a Protestant, but his arguments are steeped in Catholic assumptions. His appeal to the church fathers, as we discuss in Church Fathers Misused, and his fixation on an infallible canon, and his rejection of sola scriptura as “traditions of men” (a phrase he ironically applies to Protestantism while embracing Rome’s traditions) show that he was already halfway to Rome before he read Ignatius or Augustine. This is a pattern we’ve seen in converts: they start questioning sola scriptura, not because Scripture fails, but because they crave the false certainty of an infallible institution.

The irony is that Charles’ new home, the Catholic Church, cannot solve the problems he raises. Rome claims an infallible magisterium, but its canon was not dogmatically defined until Trent in 1546—1,500 years after Christ, as noted in Roman Catholicism Refuted. If the early church was infallible, why did it take so long? And why did councils like Hippo (393) and Carthage (397) include the deuterocanonical books, only for Trent to codify them against Protestant objections? Charles accuses Protestants of inconsistency, but Rome’s canon is itself a product of historical development, not a divine fiat. And when we examine the church fathers, as we’ve done in our resources, we find they disagreed on many issues, including the canon. They were not the monolithic, proto-Catholic authority Charles imagines.

Conclusion: The Glory of Sola Scriptura

Joshua Charles’ rejection of sola scriptura is a tragic example of abandoning the sufficiency of God’s Word for the traditions of men. His arguments—logical incoherence, inconsistency with sacred history, and Sproul’s “fallible collection”—are built on misunderstandings, selective quotations, and an unbiblical demand for infallible certainty. Sola scriptura does not require Scripture to list its own books or to have been normative during progressive revelation. It requires only that Scripture, as God’s inspired Word, be the final authority for faith and practice. The canon’s recognition was a providential process, not a violation of sola scriptura, and Sproul’s honesty about its fallibility reflects Protestant humility, not weakness.

To Charles and those swayed by his story, I say this: Return to the Word of God. It is a lamp to your feet and a light to your path (Psalm 119:105). It does not need Rome’s magisterium to speak with authority. As Jesus Himself said, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” (Matthew 24:35). Trust in the sufficiency of Scripture, and you will find the truth that sets you free (John 8:32).