John Frame is frequently accused of being a bad confessionalist. In fact, there are some who even want to deny him the right to use the label altogether, although given its largely negative connotation these days he likely wouldn't think it worth the effort to object. The introduction to his latest book, The Doctrine of the Christian Life, contains a brief discussion regarding his approach to doctrinal formulation, which seems to directly address the concerns of the aforementioned parties.

His 2002 book, The Doctrine of God (commonly referred to as DG), was the referent for the discussion. Some felt he did an injustice to the Reformed confessions by not establishing thorough enough historical support (that is, citing or employing the formulations of the confessions) in giving shape to the theology contained in the book. Frame's response, in his own words, is as follows:

My purpose in writing DG was not simply, or even primarily, to expound the doctrines, but mainly to establish their foundation, to persuade readers that they are true. DG is an argumentative book. Ultimately, for those who believe in sola Scriptura, the only way to establish the truth of doctrines is to appeal to Scripture. It might have been helpful for me to include more historical material to help people understand the doctrines better, to understand why they have been formulated as they have been. But I cannot think of a single instance where additional historical citations would have made my presentation of those doctrines more persuasive.

Given sola Scriptura...even when a theologian does cite historical sources, including confessions, it is then necessary to go back to Scripture to establish the truth of what those sources say. The main value of the confessions, then, is to mediate the biblical teaching. But is it too much to ask that in an 888-page book I might occasionally bypass the middle man?

What I find paradoxical about all this is that what brings Frame under fire from the self-titled confessionalists is precisely why Frame is actually an exemplar of good confessionalism. His theology is first and foremost rooted in Scripture, and all doctrinal formulations remain subject to that ultimate authority. This is exactly what the Reformers and post-Reformation leaders intended when they drafted the confessions.

With respect to what he said above, then, we see that from Frame's perspective a doctrine can only be shown to be true when it's Scriptural foundation is demonstrated. Mere exposition of what the confessional documents teach is insufficient for validating the truth of a certain doctrine. Naturally, insofar as the confessions reflect what is established from Scripture, they too can be upheld as truthfully reflecting the teaching of the Bible. But it is what is taught in the Word of God that necessarily forms the groundwork for any doctrine and theology.

In a footnote appended to the last paragraph cited above, Frame says,

A former colleague has described this procedure, not favorably, as 'zero-based budgeting.' If that is a fault, I plead guilty. Zero-based budgeting in theology is a good thing, a necessary consequence of sola Scriptura. I am thankful to Luther and Calvin that they did not merely assume the truth of their traditions, but brought them under the scrutiny of Scripture. They were zero-based budgeters with a vengeance.

Frame's love and appreciation for the Reformed tradition and its creeds and confessions cannot be questioned. Even greater, however, is his love for the Word of God. He recognizes an important place for the Church's creeds and confessions, one that I think would reflect Abraham Kuyper's perspective regarding the role of tradition in theology. On the one hand we recognize that confessional documents are, by their nature, vested with a degree of objective authority. Determining exactly what degree of authority is something we need to wrestle with. Some err on the side of treating them as nearly infallible documents, while others give them no credence whatsoever.

In the end, Frame's mediating position represents the healthiest form of confessionalism. He highly respects these documents while contending that they must always remain subject to the authority of Scripture. This high respect is verified—and this is important to note—by the fact that after decades of doing theology, Frame has taken exception to very little of what is in the confessions (in this context, the Westminster Standards). If this makes Frame a bad confessionalist, then I am not sure what makes a good one.

And so, in appropriating the Church's creeds and confessions, I gladly take my cue from Frame. If that makes me a bad confessionalist too, so be it.