Speculative Tradition vs Apostolic Doctrine

Paul’s Rebuke of Speculative Traditions

The apostle Paul, writing under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, warned that in the latter days the Church would face not only external persecution but internal corruption; subtle deviations from the truth, couched in the language of piety but devoid of divine authority. His pastoral epistles to Timothy and Titus are not merely letters of encouragement; they are also battle instructions for defending the purity of the gospel. Over and over, Paul draws a sharp line between sound doctrine and speculative teachings that “minister questions, rather than godly edifying which is in faith” (1 Timothy 1:4, KJV). This warning has never been more urgent.

Paul does not issue this caution in vague terms. He names the error clearly: “fables and endless genealogies.” In the early Church, these likely referred to unending debates about lineage, ancestry, and authority; vain attempts to assert spiritual status through heritage or esoteric knowledge. But Paul’s concern is not limited to ancestry charts; it is theological. These teachings generated confusion, stirred pride, and distracted from the simplicity of Christ. He tells Timothy plainly not to give heed to them. They do not build faith. They do not edify. They produce only questions; questions that pull believers into speculation rather than Scripture, debate rather than devotion, doubt rather than discipleship.

The danger of such distractions is not theoretical. In 1 Timothy 4:7, Paul tells his young protégé to “refuse profane and old wives’ fables,” and instead to “exercise thyself rather unto godliness.” Here, he again juxtaposes the fruitlessness of speculative stories with the godliness that flows from clinging to sound doctrine. In chapter 4, verses 1–3, Paul warns that in the last days, some shall depart from the faith entirely, “giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils,” including those who forbid marriage and demand abstinence from certain foods. These false teachings, while dressed in spiritual discipline, are in fact deviations from the liberty and grace of the gospel. They represent a turning away from the faith once delivered, an abandonment of the truth for a man-made religion.

Paul returns to the same theme in his second letter to Timothy. In chapter 4:3–4, he prophesies that “the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine,” but will instead seek out teachers to suit their own desires. These people, having “itching ears,” will heap to themselves voices that tell them what they want to hear, and “shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables.” This is not just a lapse in judgment; it is apostasy masked as enlightenment. It is the exchange of Christ-centered preaching for entertainment, mystery, or tradition that cannot save.

The epistle to Titus echoes this same rebuke. Paul writes in Titus 3:9, “But avoid foolish questions, and genealogies, and contentions, and strivings about the law; for they are unprofitable and vain.” Here, Paul broadens the scope: not only are myths and genealogies condemned, but so are speculative legal arguments; debates that stir up division rather than yield spiritual fruit. These disputes are not merely distractions; they are a corruption of the very purpose of God’s Word, which is to lead us into holiness, not hollow intellectualism.

The clearest application of these warnings today can be seen in the elevation of extra-biblical dogmas within the Roman Catholic tradition. While we must always speak of others with love and respect, we are also called to speak the truth in love. The dogma of the Immaculate Conception, for example, asserts that Mary was conceived without original sin. This teaching is not found anywhere in Scripture. In fact, it stands in stark contradiction to the universal testimony of Scripture that “all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). Mary herself confessed her need for a Saviour when she said, “my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour” (Luke 1:47). If she were sinless from conception, why would she need a Saviour?

This doctrine, officially defined in 1854, came nearly 1,800 years after the apostles and carries the weight not of divine revelation but of ecclesiastical tradition. It is precisely the kind of doctrine Paul warns about; a speculative teaching that generates theological confusion rather than godly edification. It has no foundation in apostolic instruction and contributes nothing to the gospel. The early Church Fathers, including Augustine, Chrysostom, and Origen, never taught this dogma. In fact, many of them explicitly or implicitly acknowledged that Mary, though blessed, was not exempt from the condition of humanity.

Closely related is the dogma of the Assumption of Mary, declared in 1950, which claims that Mary was taken bodily into heaven at the end of her earthly life. This teaching, too, is absent from Scripture. The New Testament gives no record of Mary’s death, burial, or assumption. The silence of the apostles on such a supposedly miraculous event is deafening. Paul writes in 2 Thessalonians 3:14, “And if any man obey not our word by this epistle, note that man, and have no company with him.” The Church is not permitted to invent doctrine; it is called to obey the apostolic word. To elevate any tradition to the level of essential belief when it is not found in the apostles' doctrine is to violate the command of Christ and corrupt the gospel.

To be clear: reverence for Mary as the mother of Jesus is right and biblical. She was called blessed among women and demonstrated profound faith and humility. But to move from biblical honour to unbiblical exaltation is to cross a theological line that Scripture never permits. When Mary is presented as a co-mediator, or when salvation is associated with her person rather than Christ alone, the clarity of the gospel is not enhanced; it is obscured.

Paul warns in 1 Timothy 6:20 that Timothy must guard “that which is committed to thy trust,” and to avoid “profane and vain babblings, and oppositions of science falsely so called.” That deposit, the apostolic gospel, is always under threat; not only from the world, but from within.

Whenever the Church allows tradition, speculation, mysticism, or ecclesiastical power to introduce teachings not grounded in the Word of God, it risks doing precisely what Paul condemned: ministering questions instead of godly edifying.

Scripture alone is God-breathed. It alone is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, and for instruction in righteousness (2 Timothy 3:16). It is enough. The gospel needs no ornament. Christ needs no co-mediator. The truth needs no fables, no genealogies, and no mystical traditions to make it more appealing. In fact, when we add to it, we take away from its power.

Apostolic in Name, Apostate in Practice

If one were to define apostolic succession according to the standards found in the New Testament, it would be clear and non-negotiable: it means upholding and transmitting the exact teachings of the apostles, as they were delivered by Christ and recorded in Holy Scripture. It is not the continuation of power or office, but the preservation of truth, and fidelity to the doctrine handed down once for all to the saints (Jude 3). Apostolic succession is only legitimate insofar as it reflects apostolic fidelity; faithfulness to what the apostles taught, how they taught it, and why they taught it.

The Roman Catholic Church claims to be the true continuation of the apostolic church, with the pope as the “Vicar of Christ” (in place of Christ) and the successor of Peter. This is not a modest claim. It is a comprehensive one. If true, it would mean the pope carries the authority of Peter himself, and that Rome has the power to define Christian doctrine for the entire Church. But if the claim is false; if it can be shown that the Roman Catholic hierarchy does not in fact preserve the doctrine of the apostles; then the entire Roman system collapses not only into theological error, but into self-refuting contradiction. For what good is apostolic succession, if those who claim it have abandoned apostolic teaching?

This is not a minor matter. In his letters to Timothy and Titus, the Apostle Paul laid down foundational principles for how the Church is to preserve its doctrine. He commanded that only sound teaching be permitted; teaching that is consistent with Scripture, Christ-centered, spiritually fruitful, and edifying to the Church. He warned against innovations, fables, speculative traditions, and genealogical debates that distracted from the gospel and divided the body of Christ.

In 1 Timothy 1:4, Paul warns Timothy not to give heed to “fables and endless genealogies,” because they only “minister questions, rather than godly edifying which is in faith.” He is not speaking of myth as innocent storytelling, but as spiritual corruption masked in religious language. In Titus 3:9, he again urges believers to “avoid foolish questions, and genealogies, and contentions, and strivings about the law; for they are unprofitable and vain.” Paul’s concern is not academic, but pastoral. He knows that speculative doctrines, even if they appear pious, lead not to deeper faith but to confusion, arrogance, and schism. Doctrines that do not promote holiness, humility, and Christ-centered faith are not to be entertained, let alone canonized.

Yet that is precisely what the Roman Catholic Church has done.

The most glaring example of this is seen in the elevation of Marian dogmas; specifically, the Immaculate Conception (defined in 1854) and the Assumption of Mary (defined in 1950). These doctrines are not found in Scripture. They were not taught by the apostles. They were not affirmed by the early Church. They were not necessary for salvation. And yet, by the sole authority of the pope, they were declared as binding truth, so central that to deny them is to be considered outside the faith.

How can such teachings be called apostolic? Apostolic doctrine is measured by its consistency with the Word of God, not by the decrees of later bishops or the evolving devotions of medieval piety. The apostles did not exalt Mary to sinless status. They did not teach that she was assumed bodily into heaven. She is mentioned rarely in the epistles, and never once in Acts beyond the opening chapter. If such doctrines were essential, why did Peter, Paul, James, and John remain silent? Why did the gospel writers fail to mention them?

The answer is simple: these doctrines are not apostolic because they were not part of the apostolic deposit. They are the product of theological imagination, institutional ambition, and devotional excess. And, tragically, they have borne the very fruit Paul warned against: endless debates, doctrinal strife, and division within the Church.

Indeed, these dogmas have caused not merely spiritual division, but social and political fragmentation. In Ireland, for instance, where Catholic identity was deeply tied to national allegiance, these uniquely Roman doctrines became symbols of cultural loyalty and theological defiance. Protestants rejected them as unbiblical and extraneous; Catholics clung to them as sacred tradition. The result was not unity, but generations of mistrust, hostility, and at times, violence. Doctrines that do not save had become weapons in a religious war.

This is the deep irony: the Roman Catholic Church claims to be the visible source of unity in the Christian world, yet it has invented and imposed doctrines that the apostles neither taught nor tolerated, and has used them to divide the very body of Christ. It is one thing to argue over interpretations of a shared text; it is another to add doctrines with no biblical basis and demand submission to them as a condition of salvation.

The papacy itself embodies this contradiction. While claiming to be the successor of Peter, the pope has routinely violated the spirit and method of Peter and Paul, inventing dogmas, canonizing mystical speculation, and persecuting those who object. Peter, when rebuked by Paul, did not appeal to his office but repented. Paul subjected every teacher to the authority of the gospel, even if they were apostles or angels (Galatians 1:8). The modern papacy, by contrast, sets itself above the Word, claiming the authority to define doctrine apart from Scripture; and even against it.

How, then, can the papacy be considered apostolic?

Apostolic succession is not defined by robes, relics, or rituals. It is defined by faithfulness to the apostolic message. And that message is clear: Christ alone is our Saviour and Mediator (1 Timothy 2:5). Scripture alone is our final authority (2 Timothy 3:16–17). Any doctrine that distracts from Christ, burdens the conscience, or divides the Church is not of God. It is, in Paul’s words, “vain babblings” and “knowledge falsely so called” (1 Timothy 6:20).

And what of the spiritual fruit of the papal system? If a tree is known by its fruit, then the history of the papacy is a sobering indictment. From inquisitions to indulgences, from doctrinal anathemas to wars of religion, from internal schisms to suppression of Scripture, the Roman papacy has caused more division in the Church than any single heresy or political power in history. This is not a legacy of unity. It is not the work of the Holy Spirit. It is the result of substituting apostolic truth with institutional power.

The Roman Catholic Church speaks of the “development of doctrine.” But true development does not mean invention. It means the deeper understanding of what has already been revealed. The apostles laid the foundation of the Church once, not to be revised or extended by later popes, but to be built upon by all believers (Ephesians 2:20). The Marian dogmas are not developments; they are distortions, and their fruits prove it.

So how do the Immaculate Conception and Assumption of Mary measure against this apostolic standard?

These doctrines; defined in 1854 and 1950 respectively; were not drawn from Scripture, nor were they affirmed by the apostles. They originated in centuries-later theological speculation and were eventually declared binding dogmas by the Roman Catholic Church based solely on the authority of the papacy. And what have they produced? Not faith. Not unity. Not the furtherance of the gospel. But endless questions. Unresolvable debates. Sectarian hostility. Doctrinal division. They have, in Paul’s own terms, “ministered questions” and proven “unprofitable and vain.”

No soul has ever been saved by believing that Mary was conceived without sin. No sinner has ever been justified by believing she was assumed bodily into heaven. These teachings add nothing to the gospel of Jesus Christ. They do not awaken repentance or kindle saving faith. They are, in Paul’s terms, fables; pious-sounding traditions that carry the illusion of spirituality but lack any scriptural mandate or saving power.

Worse still, these Marian doctrines have not remained theological curiosities; they have become lines of division between Christians. In lands like Ireland, where religious identity is tightly bound to political and national allegiances, these teachings have contributed to a combustible environment of sectarianism. The reverence of Mary in Catholic dogma; especially through teachings that Protestants view as unscriptural; became a rallying banner for one community and a point of theological repulsion for the other. The result has not been godly edifying. It has not been faith working through love. It has been decades of bitterness, broken communities, and blood spilled in the name of religious identity.

How can this be the fruit of apostolic succession? Can teachings that divide the Church, contradict the apostles, and produce conflict ever be rightly called apostolic? If the apostles; those entrusted with laying the foundation of the Church; explicitly warned against doctrines that “minister questions” and “strivings about the law,” how can it be godly to elevate speculative Marian doctrines to the level of saving truth?

It cannot.

These teachings fail the test of apostolicity not only because they are absent from Scripture, but because they violate the very apostolic principles Paul lays down. Sound doctrine unites the Church around the person of Christ; false doctrine exalts tradition above Scripture and divides the Body. Sound doctrine edifies believers in the faith; false doctrine stirs endless debate and pride. Sound doctrine leads to salvation through Jesus Christ; false doctrine distracts from Him by elevating other figures to near-divine status.

The Roman Catholic Church claims that these dogmas are examples of the “development of doctrine”; a deepening of truth, not a distortion of it. But Paul makes it clear: truth that builds must be godly, must be profitable, and must lead to faith, not speculation. The Immaculate Conception and the Assumption of Mary fail on every count. They have added nothing to salvation and contributed much to division. They have not drawn people to Christ, but stirred up strife between those who wish to remain anchored to the apostolic gospel and those who follow the evolving dogmas of Rome.

If these doctrines had any spiritual value; if they truly led to a deeper knowledge of God and a stronger faith in Christ; then they would bear fruit in peace, unity, and godliness. But they have borne the opposite. Sectarian violence. Theological confusion. Alienation between Christians. Cultural fragmentation. These are not the marks of truth. They are the marks of fables.

Therefore, in faithfulness to the apostles, to Scripture, and to the gospel, we must say plainly: these Marian doctrines are not part of the faith once delivered to the saints. They are part of the very error Paul warns us to avoid.

So we are left with this unavoidable contradiction: the Roman papacy claims to stand in the line of apostolic succession, yet possesses no foundation for that claim in the actual writings of the apostles. The very office that purports to guard the faith once delivered has in fact departed from it repeatedly and systemically. It has elevated dogmas not taught by Christ or His apostles, and it has done so with finality, demanding submission under threat of spiritual exile. But what authority do such inventions carry, if they are not grounded in Scripture?

Worse still, this same ecclesiastical structure has gone beyond the propagation of doctrinal speculation to something more alarming: it has tampered with the eternal moral law of God. Most strikingly, it has sought to erase the Fourth Commandment; the Sabbath; written by the very finger of God, enshrined in stone, and embedded in the created order before there ever was a Jew, an Israelite, or a ceremonial code. The Sabbath was not given to a nation but to mankind. As Jesus Himself said, “The sabbath was made for man” (Mark 2:27); and the word used is anthropos, meaning humankind, not “Ioudaios” (Jew). From the beginning, God sanctified the seventh day (Genesis 2:3), and Hebrews 4:4 declares that this rest still remains for the people of God; not as a relic of legalism, but as a testimony of divine rhythm, grace, and lordship. Christ is Lord of the Sabbath, not the abolisher of it. (see my previous post https://www.rebuildspirit.com/post/fulfilled-does-not-mean-abolished-the-sabbath-remains )

Yet the Roman Church, which professes to be the true interpreter of Scripture, has erased this command from its catechism, and substituted it with human tradition. In so doing, it has contradicted Christ, who said, “Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law” (Matthew 5:18). If the Sabbath; a command rooted in creation can be disregarded by the Church that claims to speak for God, then what exactly is the authority of such a Church grounded upon?

What good, in the eyes of God, is a religion clothed in grandeur yet hollow in obedience? The Roman Catholic Church, through the office of the papacy, has claimed for itself the supreme role of spiritual arbiter over all of Christendom. It speaks as though from Sinai, yet cannot be found standing upon it. It claims apostolic succession, yet its teachings contradict the apostles. It claims to be the pillar of truth, yet continually subverts the very truth it claims to uphold.

What good is it to build shrines to Mary; no matter how magnificent; when such acts are utterly powerless to save a soul? Scripture declares that salvation is found in Christ alone, “neither is there salvation in any other” (Acts 4:12). Mary, though called blessed among women, is never presented in Scripture as an object of prayer, veneration, or redemptive power. To build shrines, pray rosaries, and kneel before her image is not reverence; it is the displacement of Christ. It is to create a new mediatrix, when God has already appointed one mediator (1 Timothy 2:5). It is to offer homage where no redemptive authority has been given. It is not devotion; it is idolatry masked in sentimentality.

Mary was indeed blessed by God, but she was not the only woman in Scripture to receive such favour; Sarah (Genesis 17:16), Rebekah (Genesis 24:60), Hannah (1 Samuel 2:21), Ruth (Ruth 4:14–15), and Elizabeth (Luke 1:6, 42) were likewise honoured for their faith, obedience, and role in God's redemptive plan. Yet being blessed does not imply sinlessness. Scripture never teaches that Mary was without sin. Rather, as a young maiden; likely not yet accountable for moral judgment; she, like other children, had not yet come to the knowledge of good and evil (Deuteronomy 1:39). Her purity was not divine exemption but the innocence of youth, and like all people, she too needed a Saviour, as she herself confessed: “My spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour” (Luke 1:47).

What good is worshipping on Sunday, when God Himself sanctified the seventh day (Saturday); the Sabbath; at creation, before there was sin, before there was Israel, before there was Law? The Sabbath is not a Mosaic construct. It is a creation ordinance (Genesis 2:3), affirmed in the Decalogue by God’s own finger (Exodus 20:8–11), and still called holy in the New Testament (Hebrews 4:9). Jesus said the Sabbath was made for man, not for the Jew alone (Mark 2:27). To exchange the day God blessed for a day Rome chose; without any divine command; is not tradition. It is treason against the moral order of God. And to celebrate the change with pride, as the Roman Church has done, is to boast in its rebellion.

What good is Easter, which borrows from equinox traditions and pagan fertility rites, when Christ Himself ordained the Passover as the memorial of His death? He never once mentioned rabbits, eggs, or seasonal mysticism. He said, “With desire I have desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer” (Luke 22:15), and He declared He would celebrate it again in His kingdom. What spiritual benefit comes from observing Rome’s calendar, when the biblical feasts point directly to Christ’s redemptive work? To cast off God’s appointed times for pagan-influenced festivals is not spiritual freedom; it is ecclesiastical apostasy.

What good is clinging to the Gregorian calendar, devised by papal decree, when it forcibly altered history itself; removing ten full days from the calendar in 1582; to align the world with Rome’s timekeeping? What arrogance must underlie the belief that the Church can rewrite time itself, commanding the nations to conform not to God’s created order, but to man’s convenience? God alone governs the times and seasons (Daniel 2:21), and He does not share that authority with fallible men in ornate vestments. A calendar founded on manipulation cannot be a calendar of holiness.

What good is the confessional booth, where a sinful man presumes to grant forgiveness of sins, when Jesus Christ alone has the authority to say, “Thy sins be forgiven thee” (Mark 2:5–7)? The priest does not cleanse the conscience. He cannot read the heart. He cannot impute righteousness. To teach that he can is to rob Christ of His exclusive role as Redeemer and High Priest. And to assign penance as though grace were a wage; dispensable by the Church and payable by human effort; is to reduce the cross to a transaction and salvation to an economy of guilt.

What good is the Roman Mass, in which the priest claims to call Christ down from His exalted throne to inhabit a piece of bread, when Scripture declares that “Christ is entered… into heaven itself… and will appear a second time without sin unto salvation” (Hebrews 9:24, 28)? Paul warns not to ask, “Who shall ascend into heaven?” (that is, to bring Christ down) (Romans 10:6). To claim power over Christ’s physical presence is not a sacrament; it is a blasphemous parody of divine majesty. The Son of God is not subject to the commands of sinners who stand at an altar. He reigns from heaven, not from the hands of priests.

And what good is claiming the name of Christ while walking in disobedience to His commandments? Christ said plainly, “If ye love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15). Yet the Roman Church has altered the Decalogue, removing the second commandment against graven images from its catechism and splitting the tenth to preserve the appearance of ten. It has abolished the Sabbath (Saturday) and replaced it with Sunday. It has redefined salvation by faith with salvation by sacrament. And it has arrogantly declared that it has the authority to do so.

What good is such authority, if it is founded not on obedience to Christ, but on defiance of His Word? The Roman Catholic Church claims that the pope is the successor of Peter, occupying the so-called “Chair of Peter” as the Vicar of Christ on earth. Yet it does so while disregarding the actual words and teachings of Peter, the very apostle it claims as its foundation. This is not succession; it is contradiction.

Peter did not teach that one man would be elevated to supreme, unchecked authority over the Church. He did not claim infallibility for himself or for anyone else. Instead, Peter taught that all who believe in Christ are part of a “royal priesthood”; a community of equal standing before God, not a hierarchy of sacred power (1 Peter 2:9). He instructed the elders of the Church to lead by example, not dominion, explicitly warning them “neither as being lords over God’s heritage” (1 Peter 5:3). The structure Peter described is pastoral, not papal. It is humble, not hierarchical.

So then, how can the Roman Church exalt the so-called “Chair of Peter” while denying the very truths Peter preached? How can the pope claim to stand in Peter’s place, while asserting powers Peter never claimed, and enforcing doctrines Peter never taught?

The office of the papacy today arrogates to itself the right to invent dogma ex nihilo; doctrines such as the Immaculate Conception (1854) and the Assumption of Mary (1950), which were not taught by Christ, not affirmed by the apostles, and not found in Scripture. These doctrines were declared binding not because they were revealed by God, but because they were proclaimed by papal authority alone. And yet we are told this is the fruit of “apostolic succession.”

But how can it be apostolic if it defies the apostles? The apostles did not speak with independent authority; they were witnesses to Christ, not sources of new revelation. Their role was not to innovate, but to deliver what they had received (1 Corinthians 15:3). The true apostolic faith is preserved in Scripture, not layered with speculation. Therefore, to claim apostolic succession while denying apostolic doctrine is not only illogical; it is spiritual fraud.

The contradiction deepens when we examine the fruit. The papacy claims to be the visible center of Christian unity. Yet it has been the greatest source of division in the history of the Church. The blood spilled through crusades, inquisitions, and persecutions of reformers bears witness to this. The schisms and sectarian conflicts inflamed by Roman dogmas; especially in places like Ireland, are not the marks of godly edifying, but of spiritual domination.

So I ask plainly and logically: if the papacy does not follow the doctrine of Peter, if it does not teach what Christ and the apostles taught, if it contradicts Scripture, alters the moral law, rewrites God’s calendar, and imposes speculative fables; what exactly is it the heir of?

It is not the heir of apostolic truth.

It is the heir of human tradition, institutional power, and theological invention. The “Chair of Peter” is not built on Peter’s confession that “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16), but on Rome’s confession that power is truth. It is a throne, not a cross. A system, not a body. A kingdom of men, not the kingdom of God.

And if apostolic succession means preserving the apostles' doctrine, then Rome has long since forfeited its claim. For the apostles were stewards of Christ; not authors of new doctrines. They submitted to the Word; they did not stand above it. They called people to Christ; they did not invent mediators. They preserved the Sabbath; they did not abolish it. They preached salvation by grace; they did not sell it.

If the papacy claims succession, let it return to submission. If it claims to speak for Christ, let it obey Christ. If it claims to guard the gospel, let it preach only what the apostles preached.

Until then, its claim is not holy—it is hollow.

“All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.”— 2 Timothy 3:16

Happy Sabbath! Let’s enter into God’s rest today, beginning at sunset and continuing until sunset tomorrow, as He ordained.