Church Doctrine vs. the Didache of Jesus: A Prophetic Think Tank

The Consensus Reality: Schleiermacher

Since Friedrich Daniel Ernst Schleiermacher (1768–1834) is widely regarded as both the arch-dogmatist and the father of modern liberal theology, and since we are all living in his long shadow, it is only fitting to begin with the one who most clearly embodies the assumptions we hold today about doctrine.

Schleiermacher was a disciple of Immanuel Kant. Kant famously denied the possibility of objective, demonstrable knowledge of the divine. Christian doctrine, in his view, could not be “proved” true—and indeed, that was never its purpose. Religion, rather, existed to cultivate moral feeling and shape societal behavior. In this way, Kant was a functional atheist: he did not believe in Christianity as true in the classical sense, but still maintained a strict devotion to its rituals and ethics. He was, paradoxically, both very religious and religiously unbelieving.

Schleiermacher followed Kant, insisting that Christianity had little to do with the belief in miracles or divine interventions, and everything to do with an inward experience of Jesus and His redemptive significance. In The Christian Faith, his magnum opus, he articulates doctrine as little more than a verbal account of religious experience:

p. 76: Doctrine is “the accounts of the Christian religious affections set forth in speech.”
p. 109: Unity of doctrine in the Church is not necessary.
pp. 123–125: Christian doctrine is composed of “facts presupposed by antithesis,” combined with other facts that remain static amid this dialectical movement.
p. 142: The essence of Christian experience is “religious feeling,” and the central doctrinal claim is that “the totality of finite being existed only in dependence upon the Infinite.”
p. 591: “The authority of Holy Scripture cannot be the foundation of faith in Christ; rather the latter must be presupposed before a peculiar authority can be granted Holy to Scripture.” The Old Testament, he held, was largely insignificant.

Any book, in theory, could serve as “Scripture,” not necessarily the Hebrew or Christian canon. For Schleiermacher, the two valid forms of consciousness were knowing and feeling. But unlike the classical understanding, where knowing and doing form a natural pair, he placed feeling between them—as the true seat of religion. As Barth would later paraphrase: the object of theology is not knowledge of God, but the pious feeling of dependence upon the divine.

Sound familiar?

You may claim that such ideas are foreign to modern conservative churches. But I assure you—they’re not. As I will show, these assumptions quietly permeate even the most self-consciously “orthodox” circles.

Although Schleiermacher and Hegel often clashed—particularly over the Trinity, which Schleiermacher believed was never clearly enunciated by Christ or the apostles—Schleiermacher was, in many ways, functionally Hegelian.

Hegel’s entire philosophy of history is built upon a dialectical movement: a proposition (thesis), its negation (antithesis), and the eventual merging or transformation (synthesis). But it doesn’t matter what these positions actually are—only that they work toward the goal of freedom. Truth, for Hegel, is not discovered as objective fact but emerges through the progressive evolution of human consciousness.

As Hegel writes:

“History is the process whereby the spirit discovers itself and its own concept. The spirit is primarily its own object; but as long as it is this only in our eyes, and has not yet recognized itself in its object, it is not yet its own object in the true sense. Its ultimate aim, however, is the attainment of knowledge; for the sole endeavor of spirit is to know what it is in and for itself, and to reveal itself to itself in its true form. It seeks to create a spiritual world in accordance with its own concept… to realize its own true nature… to produce religion and the state in such a way that it will conform to its own concept and be truly itself or become its own Idea.”
(Lectures on the Philosophy of History, 1830, trans. H. B. Nisbet, 1975)

That language gives Hegel away. “The Idea is the reality of the concept, of which it is merely a reflection or expression.” For Hegel, the idea—residing in human self-consciousness—is the inward truth of the concept, and the concept itself is a kind of symbolic projection of that internal truth. Though I sometimes use the terms interchangeably, there is a distinction: an idea is an impression, a theory; a concept is a structured formulation or plan. But both, in Hegel’s system, are entirely framed within human thought. Reality becomes the outworking of mental constructions.

And this deeply subjective, symbol-driven view is embedded in Schleiermacher as well.

Though Schleiermacher may not have put it in Hegel’s exact terms, his version of “redemption”—his answer to Hegel’s freedom—was essentially the same. Redemption, for Schleiermacher, was not knowledge of the historical Christ but the religious consciousness formed around the idea of Christ. It is not objective knowledge that saves, but the internal experience of reconciliation—the redemption of the self through a constructed Christ-idea. “Facts,” in his system, are shaped by their contrast to the concept of redemption and are validated only insofar as they fit within the self-consciousness of the “redeemed.”

So then, we must ask: Is Christian doctrine still what it was in the first century—something revealed, unchangeable, and self-attesting—or has it become a historical progression of spiritual impressions interpreted through philosophy? If the latter, then our modern theological frameworks, even in conservative circles, are more Schleiermacher than Scripture—more Idea than Incarnation

The Christian consciousness of redemption entails concepts such as God’s holiness, righteousness, love, and wisdom; the opposing negative states of evil and sin; and the transition between them by way of Christ and the church through rebirth and sanctification. These concepts, further, presuppose others: creation and preservation, an original state of human perfection, and the divine attributes of eternity, omnipresence, omnipotence, and omniscience.¹

Simply read it all in context.

Redemption today is guided not by direct revelation, but by the conclusions of doctrinal systems. Each doctrine of redemption presupposes others, forming a conceptual framework—a model—of salvation. But none of this connects to the foundation of a revealed faith: one grounded in the historical appearance of God and demonstrated through prophetic fulfillment. Translation: forget Messianic prophecy—this is about redemption as concept, not as reality.

I’m not going to trace the long line from the Patristic Fathers through Aquinas, Augustine, and Barth to make this point. Subjectivism, philosophy, experientialism, and the Age of the Creed have all played their part. Instead, consider one early document: The Didache, The Lord’s Teaching Through the Twelve Apostles to the Nations.

This text is often viewed as a kind of catechism—a church order document. It’s ancient, possibly first or second century. But age does not guarantee originality. There’s no reason to think the apostles themselves wrote it. By then, the Church was already adapting to its surroundings. Some developments preserved truth, others distorted it. If errors were later institutionalized, they had roots.

On the surface, the Didache seems harmless—basic theology and ethics. But it lacks the revelatory grounding of the Apostles. Their teaching always referenced the historical and prophetic events upon which it was based.

They never treated behavior as the substance of righteousness, nor doctrine as mere proposition. Yet the Didache does. In this way, it anticipates modern religion: morality detached from revelation.

Now, yes, perhaps belief in the prophetic Messiah was assumed as a subtext. But it is never stated. The Didache removes this foundation and falls into the Greco-Roman model of virtue ethics: do right, believe right. That makes it a well-intentioned disaster.

Take these examples:

“If someone gives you a blow upon your right cheek, turn to him the other also, and you shall be perfect.”
“Woe to him that receives; for if one having need receives, he is guiltless.”
“Murders, adulteries, lusts, fornications… cause spiritual death.”

These statements blur signs and causes. The author likely meant to describe spiritual symptoms—but the language easily reads as causation.

Contrast this with the Sermon on the Mount.

Christ’s intent was to wrap moral action around fulfilled prophecy—not to offer ethics for ethics’ sake. As was His method, He spoke indirectly, in parables. He did not say, “Because you believe I am the one foretold, now act accordingly.” But that is exactly what He implied.

Why the indirection? Because the Sermon itself is prophecy—not just of what the Christian life will look like, but what it won’t: a religion severed from revelation. It warns of those who embrace Christian behavior while rejecting the foundational clause: “Because you believe that the prophets foretold me and I fulfilled them…”

That clause must come before: “…act in a way that reflects what you believe.” But when that first clause is cut out, what remains is moralism without Messiah.

We still fail to grasp this—still confusing doing with essential believing.

Even the Didache hints at the truth it omits:

“We thank You, holy Father, for Your holy name… and for the knowledge and faith and immortality, which You made known to us through Jesus Your Servant.”

What is this knowledge? What is this holy name? Is it merely “Jesus”? Or is it the revealed identity of the Messiah?

Now turn to Matthew 7.

“Enter ye in at the strait gate…” (Matt. 7:13)

We say “Jesus saves.” That’s true. But the gate is narrow—specific, exacting. It’s not a slogan; it’s a revelatory path.

Verses 9–11 distinguish between gifts: stone vs. bread, serpent vs. fish. These symbolize true vs. false doctrine. The Law and Prophets (v.12) are summed up as good gifts. Not creeds. Not confessions. Revelation.

Then the warning:

“Beware of false prophets…” (Matt. 7:15)

This is a warning about doctrinal fraud. These false prophets preach, perform miracles, cast out demons—and yet Christ will say, “I never knew you.” Not because of error in content, but in source.

Their doctrine lacked revelatory foundation. It was right in appearance, wrong in origin.

So what is doctrine?

It’s not merely saying “Jesus saves.” That is true, but if detached from the prophetic basis of why Jesus saves, it is a hollow echo. Doctrine is not a human construct but a divine revelation.

The Pharisees had doctrine. But Christ’s critique wasn’t of what they said—it was why they said it. Their theology lacked revelatory origin.

If we think doctrine is just propositional belief—mental assent—we repeat their mistake. “Jesus saves” is not a doctrine if it’s just a formula. It’s only doctrine if it flows from the revealed, historical, prophetic truth of Christ.

That’s why false prophets are judged not by what they say or do, but by what they are connected to. Their doctrine is hollow because their belief lacks revelatory containment. It’s appearance without substance.

And as always, Jesus veils this truth in parable. He names the prophets (v.15), then warns about those who misuse His name (v.22). He ends with a call to “do” His sayings—not do good works, but believe and speak from the revealed truth of prophecy.

“The rain descended… the floods came… and great was the fall of it” (Matt. 7:27)

The rock is not just “Christ” or “correct doctrine.” It is Christ as fulfillment of prophecy—God’s self-attesting Word made flesh.

Doctrine, then, is not religious concept.

It is revealed truth, demonstrated and fulfilled. Propositions point to it, but they are not it. True doctrine is not chosen or imagined. It is a divine phenomenon witnessed by those who love truth.

Let’s adjust the slogan: “No Messianic prophecy, no Christ. Know Messianic prophecy, know Christ—and His doctrine.”

Did you ever expect that God might lead you to stay a place firmly within your own spiritual tradition or settled perspective yet one that is firmly outside of it? That is a description of the supernatural residing in Matter, or Christ enfleshed. Of transcendence taking up residence in the common. The real place in which we as Christians were ordained from the beginning, not a cultural consensus reality. Maybe God led you here because he wanted to turn the light no inside your heart about a precious truth that consensus reality is not wanting to give you. If so, take a chance, be patient, and read on. Here is one truth leading to many that might change your whole perspective on faith.

please see:

Christ and the Noun Norming of Transcendence: A Prophetic Think Tank
When I Survey the Wondrous Nace, part 1: A Prophetic Think Tank