Bernard's The Oneness of God - Chapter 3


This is our series of articles analyzing David Bernard's book, The Oneness of God. You are on the page that is in bold. Click on the links to go to a particular chapter:
- Links to Bernard's other books
- Overview of The Oneness of God
- Chapter 1 - Christian Monotheism
- Chapter 2 - The Nature of God
- Chapter 3 - The Names and Titles of God
- Chapter 4 - Jesus is God
- Chapter 5 - The Son of God
- Chapter 6 - Father, Son and Holy Ghost
- Chapter 7 - Old Testament Explanations
- Chapter 8 - New Testament Explanations: The Gospels
- Chapter 9 - New Testament Explanations: Acts to Revelation
- Chapter 10 - Oneness Believers in Church History
- Chapter 11 - Trinitarianism: Definition and Historical Development
- Chapter 12 - Trinitarianism: An Evaluation
- Chapter 13 - Conclusion
A Critical Analysis of Chapter 3 of The Oneness of God by David K. Bernard
"The Names and Titles of God"
"Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved" (Acts 4:12).
Bernard opens Chapter 3 with this verse — and the choice tells you everything about where the chapter is headed. On the surface, Chapter 3 is a survey of the names and titles of God in Scripture. There's a table of Hebrew names, a list of compound Jehovah-names, and a discussion of how God revealed himself progressively to Israel. It reads, for a while, like solid biblical introduction. But the chapter isn't really about the names of God. It's a setup — a runway designed to land one conclusion: that "Jesus" is the singular, all-encompassing name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and therefore the only valid name for Christian baptism.
Getting there requires some real interpretive work. Some of that work is careful. Most of it isn't.
What Bernard Gets Right
Give credit where it's due. Bernard's basic point about the significance of names in the ancient world is accurate. In Hebrew thought, a name wasn't just a label — it communicated character, authority, and presence. When God said "my name shall be there" of the Temple (1 Kings 8:29), he wasn't playing word games. His name represented his active, personal presence. That's solid biblical theology, affirmed by Trinitarians and Oneness believers alike.
His survey of the Hebrew names for God — El, Eloah, Elohim, Adonai, Yahweh — is largely accurate. The compound Jehovah-names (Jehovah-jireh, Jehovah-rapha, etc.) genuinely do reveal different facets of God's character. And the general concept of progressive revelation — God revealing more of himself as redemptive history unfolds — is not just defensible, it's the framework the whole Bible operates in. Hebrews 1:1–2 says exactly this: "In many and various ways God spoke of old to our fathers by the prophets; but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son."
So the chapter's first half is mostly fine. The problems begin when Bernard turns to the name "Jesus" and starts doing theology with it.
Reading Too Much Into What a Name Means
Bernard's first major move is to argue from what the name Jesus means. Jesus, he says, means "Jehovah-Savior" or "Jehovah is Salvation." From this he concludes that Jesus is "the culmination of all the Old Testament names of God" and that "the name of Jesus is the name of God that He promised to reveal" (referencing Isaiah 52:6).
The argument is appealing, but it makes a common mistake: it assumes that what a name means tells you everything about the identity of the person who bears it. Bernard himself accidentally exposes the problem. He acknowledges that "others have borne the name Jehoshua, Joshua, or Jesus." Joshua son of Nun bore the same name. Were those individuals also "Jehovah is Salvation" in the theological sense Bernard is building toward? Of course not. Their name carried a meaning without making them identical to Yahweh.
The name Jesus communicates something true and glorious about who Jesus is and what he came to do. Matthew 1:21 is absolutely right: "You shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." But jumping from what the name means to the conclusion that Jesus is personally identical with Yahweh the Father — rather than the Son sent by the Father — is a leap the name itself doesn't support. A name can tell you what someone was meant to do or be. It can't resolve the question of whether the Father and the Son are the same person.
Zechariah 14:9 — A Text Pulled from Its Moorings
Bernard claims that Jesus is "the one name of Zechariah 14:9 that encompasses and includes all the other names of God within its meaning." The verse reads:
"And the LORD will be king over all the earth. In that day the LORD will be one and his name one."
This is a significant misreading. Zechariah 14 is a vision of the last days — the LORD's final triumph over the nations who have gathered against Jerusalem. The statement "the LORD will be one and his name one" is a declaration that there is only one true God, over against all competing gods — in that day, there will be no more confusion, no more divided loyalties, no more Baals or Ashtoreths competing for Israel's worship. Yahweh alone will be acknowledged king of all the earth.
Nothing in the text, the chapter, or the book of Zechariah connects this "one name" to a future personal name to be revealed through the Incarnation. Reading "his name one" as a prediction that the singular name "Jesus" would eventually replace all other divine names is reading a meaning into the text that simply isn't there. The verse is about the world finally recognizing Israel's God, not about the unveiling of a required baptismal formula.
Proverbs 30:4 — Speculation Dressed as Bible Teaching
Bernard cites the prophet Agur's questions in Proverbs 30:4:
"What is his name, and what is his son's name, if thou canst tell?"
He suggests that "if he referred to God, then he was looking into the future, trying to see by what name God would reveal Himself when He would appear as the Son."
Notice how carefully Bernard hedges this: "if he referred to God." That hedge should signal caution. The passage is a series of rhetorical questions about the hiddenness of God and the limits of human wisdom — "Who has ascended into heaven and come down? Who has gathered the wind in his fists?… Surely you know!" The entire thrust is human ignorance before the mystery of God. Nothing in the passage, its context, or the book of Proverbs supports the reading that Agur was specifically anticipating the Incarnation of God under a future personal name. This is a stretch, and Bernard himself seems to know it. What he presents as biblical evidence is better described as informed speculation.
Hebrews 1:4 — What Name Was Inherited?
Bernard states that Jesus "inherited His name from the Father (Hebrews 1:4)." The verse says the Son "has become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs." Bernard takes this to mean Jesus inherited the name "Jesus" from the Father, which would make "Jesus" the Father's own name.
But that's not what the verse says, and that's not the argument of Hebrews 1. The entire first chapter of Hebrews is making a case for the Son's superiority over the angels. The "more excellent name" the Son inherits is the name "Son" — as the very next verse makes plain: "For to which of the angels did God ever say, 'You are my Son, today I have begotten you'?" (Hebrews 1:5). The contrast is between Son and angel, not between an old divine name and a new one called "Jesus." The inherited name is the filial title "Son of God" — a title that, notably, distinguishes the Son from the Father rather than collapsing them into one person.
Isaiah 52:6 — What God Promised to Reveal
Bernard quotes Isaiah 52:6 — "Therefore my people shall know my name" — as God's promise to reveal the name Jesus. But Isaiah 52 is the immediate context leading into the Suffering Servant passage of chapter 53. The "name" God promises Israel will know is Yahweh's own name — the covenant name that marks him as Israel's Redeemer and the God who keeps his promises. Verses 7–10 spell this out: it's about the God who comforts his people, redeems Jerusalem, and acts with a holy arm before the nations. This is a promise to Israel in exile, not a prediction that God would later announce a new personal name to be used in baptism.
It's worth asking: where in the New Testament does any author actually make the argument Bernard is making here? Where does any apostle say, "You see, Isaiah 52:6 predicted the name 'Jesus' — that's why we baptize in this specific name only"? The argument Bernard builds from Isaiah 52:6 has no support in the New Testament itself.
Acts 4:12 — Salvation in a Name vs. a Formula
The chapter opens and closes around Acts 4:12: "Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved." Bernard uses this to argue that "Jesus" is the uniquely required name for salvation, with the implication — developed more fully in later chapters — that this name must be invoked in the specific formula of water baptism.
But look at what Peter is actually doing in Acts 4. He's standing before the Sanhedrin, who have asked how a lame man was healed (Acts 4:7, 9–10). Peter's answer is a declaration about who Jesus is: this healing happened "by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth." His statement in verse 12 is not a prescription for a baptismal formula. It's an assertion that Jesus — not Caesar, not the Temple establishment, not any other religious system — is the world's only Savior. As Grudem notes in his Systematic Theology, when Scripture says that people are saved through the "name" of Jesus (e.g., John 20:31), it means through all that Jesus is — his person, his work, his authority — not through a verbal utterance during a ritual.
The distinction matters enormously. Bernard's argument only works if "salvation in the name of Jesus" means "salvation through the verbal recitation of 'Jesus' during baptism." But that's precisely the question, not the answer.
The "In the Name of Jesus" Problem — Consistency Required
One of the chapter's most repeated claims is that we do everything in the name of Jesus: preach, heal, gather together, cast out demons, pray — and, crucially, baptize (Acts 2:38). Bernard cites Colossians 3:17: "Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus."
As Gregory Boyd points out in Oneness Pentecostals and the Trinity, this is where the argument runs into serious trouble with its own logic. The phrase "in the name of" in first-century Jewish usage was versatile. It meant acting within the authority or character of someone, not literally pronouncing their name before each act. When Samaritans circumcised "in the name of Mount Gerizim," they weren't saying the word "Gerizim" as a formula. When an offering was slaughtered "in the name of the offering, the offerer, God, the altar fires, and the sweet savour," the singular word "name" preceded a list of multiple things — none of which this singularity was thought to collapse into one person.
If Colossians 3:17 means Christians must say "Jesus" before everything they do in word or deed, then the text would require a verbal incantation before every single human activity. Bernard himself doesn't believe this — he acknowledges that "the name of Jesus is not a magical formula." But if the phrase doesn't require a verbal pronunciation before every act, why does it suddenly require one in baptism specifically?
Bernard can't have it both ways. Either "in the name of" means acting in the authority and character of Jesus — in which case Matthew 28:19 and Acts 2:38 are equally valid expressions of that same reality — or it requires a verbal formula, in which case Christians had better start saying "Jesus" before every conversation, every meal, and every act of worship. The selective application of the "formula" reading to baptism alone, while exempting everything else, is not sound Bible reading. It's a predetermined conclusion in search of a verse.
The Argument Acts 19 Actually Supports
Bernard briefly cites the story of the seven sons of Sceva in Acts 19:13–17. Jewish exorcists tried to invoke "the Jesus whom Paul preaches" without genuine faith and got thrashed for it. Bernard uses this to say the power of Jesus' name isn't in its sound but in genuine faith in the One it represents.
This is true — and it's worth sitting with, because it cuts directly against what Oneness theology ultimately teaches about the baptismal formula. The sons of Sceva said the name "Jesus" out loud. They pronounced it over demonized people as a formula. It didn't work, not because they mispronounced it or added the wrong words, but because they had no genuine relationship with Jesus. If the name itself, spoken correctly, carried inherent saving or delivering power, these exorcists should have succeeded. Bernard's own interpretation of Acts 19 undermines the later Oneness claim that baptism performed with the wrong verbal formula is invalid and unsaving.
The Real Problem: Proving Too Much With Too Little
Step back and look at what Chapter 3 actually establishes. Bernard successfully argues that God's names in the OT reveal his character, that revelation progresses toward its climax in Christ, and that Jesus is the supreme revelation of God's character and authority. Every trinitarian theologian in church history would agree with all of that. Grudem, Boyd, Geisler — none of them would dispute it.
What Bernard hasn't established is the one thing the chapter needs to establish for his theology to work: that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are not three distinct persons but three "roles" or "manifestations" of one person, and that this single person's name is specifically "Jesus." The leap from "Jesus is the fullness of God's self-revelation" to "therefore Father, Son, and Spirit are one person named Jesus" is not made from the biblical texts Bernard cites. It's assumed first, then read back into them.
This is the chapter's fundamental logical flaw — it argues for the wrong conclusion from its own premises. Affirming that Jesus is the highest revelation of God is perfectly compatible with trinitarian theology. John 1:1 says "the Word was God." Colossians 2:9 says "in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily." Hebrews 1:3 says he is "the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature." Trinitarians read all of this as true — and still maintain that Jesus the Son is distinct from the Father who sent him. Bernard's chapter offers no argument against that position. It simply doesn't engage it.
What's missing from Chapter 3 is any serious treatment of the texts where Jesus and the Father are explicitly distinguished — not as "divine side" and "human side," but as two distinct persons relating to one another: the Father sending the Son (John 3:16; Galatians 4:4), the Son praying to the Father (Mark 14:35; John 17), the Father speaking of the Son at the baptism and Transfiguration (Matthew 3:17; 17:5), Jesus calling the Father "my God" (John 20:17; Revelation 3:12). These aren't anomalies to be explained away. They're the steady, consistent testimony of the New Testament, and a chapter about the revelation of God's name can't simply ignore them.
A Pastoral Word
If you've been taught that Oneness theology is simply "what the Bible says about God's name," this chapter probably seems persuasive. It quotes a lot of Scripture. It builds a coherent-sounding case. The problem is that coherent-sounding isn't the same as being grounded in what the Bible actually says.
The real question isn't whether Jesus is Lord, Savior, and the fullness of God's self-revelation — he is all of that. The question is whether the biblical picture of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit reflects three genuine personal distinctions within one divine being, or whether it's a kind of divine theater in which one solitary person wears three masks. Bernard's argument, examined closely, never actually proves the second option. It assumes it, dresses it in biblical language, and trusts that the reader won't slow down long enough to notice what's missing.
You deserve better than that. The God of the Bible is not a God who plays hide-and-seek with his own nature, offering centuries of language about the Father and the Son relating to one another as a kind of elaborate illusion. Take the New Testament at face value. When the Father says of Jesus, "This is my beloved Son" — he means it.