Mark Anthony Stephens has found another pulpit.

This time, the sermon is about the Ethiopian Bible, the 66-book Protestant canon, “extra books,” New Age spirituality, false teachers, hidden knowledge, and — because no Mark Stephens theological lecture is complete without it — a warning to “baby Christians.”

The post begins with the kind of sentence that tries to sound scholarly before it has earned the right:

“The Ethiopian canon itself is not as clean as people claim!”

Clean.

That is the word he chose.

Not complicated. Not historically layered. Not debated. Not diverse. Not worthy of study.

Clean.

That one word tells you almost everything. Mark is not entering the topic as a student of church history, ancient languages, Orthodox tradition, canon development, textual transmission, or biblical scholarship. He is entering it as a man who already knows where he wants to land and is now arranging the furniture of Scripture around his own certainty.

And that is the pattern.

Mark does not study a subject until he understands it. He skims just enough to sound informed, borrows enough religious vocabulary to sound authoritative, and then issues a warning to everyone else.

The Man Who Discovers Complexity Only When It Helps Him

To be fair, Mark accidentally bumps into one true thing: the Ethiopian Orthodox canon is complex.

But he does not treat that complexity with humility. He weaponizes it.

He points to the complexity of the Ethiopian canon as though complexity itself proves corruption. But complexity has never bothered Mark when it serves his own beliefs. He is perfectly comfortable with nuance when he needs wiggle room. He is perfectly comfortable with interpretation when he wants to make Scripture say what he already believes. He is perfectly comfortable with “context” when context gives him control.

But when someone else’s tradition contains complexity?

Suddenly complexity becomes contamination.

That is not scholarship. That is selective suspicion.

Mark’s argument is not really about the Ethiopian Bible. It is about control. It is about deciding who gets to speak with authority. It is about placing himself in the role of gatekeeper — the man who tells everyone else which books are dangerous, which believers are immature, which churches are suspect, which interpretations are “New Age,” and which people are being deceived.

Conveniently, the person who always seems qualified to make that call is Mark.

“Context” as a Costume

Mark loves the word “context.”

In this post, he writes:

“This is why I have always preached on Context and Context No hidden Gems, But open Gems in the Bible if you show yourself studied and approved!”

That sentence is doing a lot of work.

He invokes “context” as if saying the word automatically places him inside it. But context is not a magic spell. Context requires discipline. It requires history. It requires language. It requires humility. It requires the ability to admit, “I may not know enough about this yet.”

Mark’s version of context often seems to mean: the interpretation that allows me to sound right.

He quotes 2 Timothy 3:16–17 to claim that because Scripture equips the believer, “extra books cannot be necessary for doctrine.” But that is not a careful argument. That is a theological shortcut. The passage speaks about the usefulness and sufficiency of Scripture. It does not provide Mark with a table of contents for a 66-book Protestant Bible, nor does it erase the complicated history of how different Christian traditions received, preserved, debated, and used sacred writings.

He is using Scripture to end a conversation Scripture itself does not settle in the simplistic way he wants it to.

That is the move: quote a verse, flatten the topic, declare victory.

Flexible Bible Beliefs, Rigid Judgment

The irony is hard to miss.

Mark warns against people using extra-biblical books because, in his words, they “allow flexible interpretation.”

But Mark’s own religious worldview appears incredibly flexible — flexible enough to bend around whatever opinion he already holds.

When he wants to sound scholarly, he appeals to “scholars.”

When he wants to sound spiritual, he appeals to Scripture.

When he wants to dismiss another tradition, he appeals to canon.

When he wants to attack a group he dislikes, he invokes “false teachers.”

When he wants to protect his own authority, he warns everyone else about “hidden truth.”

This is not a consistent theology. It is theological improvisation.

The Bible becomes a mirror. Whatever Mark already believes, he finds a way to see it reflected back at him.

And then he calls that reflection “truth.”

No Expertise, Maximum Confidence

There is a familiar rhythm in Mark’s public posts: confidence first, competence later — if competence appears at all.

This matters because the pattern is not limited to theology. In documented concerns about Liam’s health, professionals noted Mark’s “alternative health beliefs, accusations, and misrepresentations,” along with difficulty understanding the medical severity of Liam’s condition. The same report states that Mark demonstrated a lack of formal capacity to make medical decisions for his son and struggled to weigh risks, benefits, consequences, and delays in treatment.

That pattern should sound familiar.

A little information becomes a platform.
A complicated subject becomes a warning label.
An expert field becomes something Mark believes he can correct from Facebook.

Whether the topic is food, vaccines, medicine, mental health, Scripture, or ancient canon, the posture is the same: Mark positions himself as the one who sees clearly while everyone else is confused, deceived, immature, compromised, or spiritually unsafe.

The issue is not that Mark has opinions.

Everyone has opinions.

The issue is that Mark repeatedly presents opinions as expertise, certainty as wisdom, and suspicion as discernment.

The “False Teacher” Reflex

Near the end of his post, Mark swings toward one of his favorite weapons: labeling.

“Bethal Churches love this because you can go outside the boundaries of Scripture!”

Then come the hashtags:

#FalseTeachers #88books #66Books #becareful #babyChristians

That is not teaching. That is branding.

It is the social media version of standing at the edge of a crowd pointing and shouting, “Danger! Deception! False teachers!”

No careful explanation. No serious engagement. No meaningful distinction between Ethiopian Orthodoxy, the Book of Enoch, New Age spirituality, Bethel-style charismatic theology, or random internet conspiracy claims about “removed books.”

Just one big pile of spiritual accusation.

This is how Mark’s rhetoric works. He collapses categories until everything he dislikes appears connected. Ancient texts become New Age. Different canons become deception. Christians who ask questions become “baby Christians.” Churches he distrusts become false teachers. Complexity becomes danger.

And Mark becomes the rescuer.

The Hidden Truth About “Hidden Truth”

Mark warns against people chasing hidden truth.

That part is almost funny.

Because Mark’s own public persona has often depended on the same emotional machinery: suspicion, secret knowledge, warnings about what “they” do not want people to know, distrust of institutions, distrust of experts, distrust of accepted medical guidance, distrust of mainstream conclusions.

He criticizes others for chasing hidden truth while constantly presenting himself as someone who sees what others miss.

That is not discernment.

That is projection wearing a Bible verse.

Scripture as a Shield, Not a Teacher

The most troubling part of Mark’s post is not that he prefers the 66-book Protestant canon. Many Christians do.

The troubling part is the way he uses the Bible as a shield against accountability and as a weapon against others.

Scripture, in Mark’s hands, becomes less like a sacred text and more like a courtroom exhibit. He holds it up when it helps him prosecute someone else. He quotes it when it lets him sound final. He invokes it when he wants to end debate.

But the humility Scripture demands?

The caution against arrogance?

The warning about teachers being judged more strictly?

The call to be slow to speak?

The command to love truth more than winning?

Those parts seem far less useful to him.

A Facebook Seminary of One

Mark’s post is not scholarship. It is not pastoral care. It is not biblical literacy.

It is a Facebook seminary of one — a self-appointed teacher lecturing the internet from a stack of assumptions.

He wants the authority of a scholar without the training.

The confidence of a pastor without the accountability.

The voice of a teacher without the discipline of being teachable.

And that is what makes posts like this so revealing.

Mark is not merely arguing about the Ethiopian Bible. He is showing us how he handles authority. He trusts authority when he can use it. He rejects authority when it challenges him. He quotes Scripture when it supports him. He flattens Scripture when it complicates him. He warns about flexibility in others while practicing it himself.

That is not conviction.

That is control.

The Real Warning

So yes, be careful.

But not in the way Mark means.

Be careful of people who confuse volume with truth.

Be careful of people who use Scripture to sound superior rather than become humble.

Be careful of people who warn about deception while constantly positioning themselves as the only reliable interpreter.

Be careful of people who lack expertise but speak as though expertise is unnecessary.

Be careful of people whose beliefs are rigid when judging others and flexible when defending themselves.

Be careful of people who turn every subject — medicine, parenting, food, faith, Scripture, history — into another opportunity to perform certainty.

The Ethiopian canon may be complicated.

Church history may be complicated.

The development of biblical canons may be complicated.

But Mark Anthony Stephens is not complicated here.

He is doing what he has always done: taking a subject larger than himself, shrinking it down to fit his worldview, and then warning everyone else not to be deceived.

The irony is that the loudest warning in the room may be the man giving it.