Wayne Leman has published the first part of his report on the survey he has been taking on Biblical teachings about headship. While this was not a scientific poll it did point to some interesting things. I’d suggest reading it with a primary focus on what people understand as an “explicit teaching” of scripture. What does that phrase mean?
It appears to me that people use the phrase without any concrete meaning, but that’s just my general, unscientific observation!
I have previously written about my opposition to including specific Bible classes in public schools, and to the NCBCPS curriculum in particular, if one chose to have such a class in any case. Now in a column on WorldNetDaily Chuck Norris talks about using this curriculum as “Your first step to get God back into your public school.” It’s nice to know that this was your goal all along, Chuck. I must admit that I was certain of that from the moment I read about this curriculum.
I know many people who would like to get God back into public schools, and who admit it openly. I can respect their stated position, though I disagree very strongly. But to try to sell a curriculum to school boards as constitutionally safe, while at the same time proclaiming it to be a means of getting God back into the classroom–that’s deceptive, and I don’t think it’s an appropriate approach for Christians to take. While I did not actually see this, Ed Brayton reports that that the NCBCPS web site initially posted Chuck Norris’s column, and then removed it. The obvious reason would be that they would not like that column quoted in court when their curriculum is challenged.
Personally, I would simply say again that there are quite a number of things I don’t trust the state to do properly, and teaching religion is high on that list. Let’s provide appropriate religious education in our homes and churches. I don’t ever recall my parents having problems over prayer or Bible study in school–Oh, that’s right, I was homeschooled! Problem solved.
. . . at Claude Mariottini – Old Testament Professor. I’m in there, for this post on the Nebo-Sarsekim Tablet.
PS: I haven’t been blogging regularly here for about the last week. I have been extraordinarily busy. I have written a number of posts elsewhere, and I’ll kind of do a roundup and then get on with some new stuff later today.
My sister e-mail me a link to this article on to me via e-mail.
Pope Benedict XVI said the debate raging in some countries particularly the United States and his native Germany between creationism and evolution was an absurdity, saying that evolution can coexist with faith.
The pontiff, speaking as he was concluding his holiday in northern Italy, also said that while there is much scientific proof to support evolution, the theory could not exclude a role by God.
Now while I agree that there is much evidence for evolution (I think “scientific proof” is a poor use of terms), I have to say that I don’t think the debate is an absurdity. For folks like Dr. Kurt Wise (author of Faith, Form, and Time, who believes as an article of his faith that he must take Genesis 1-11 as accurate scientifically and historically, it does make a difference. I might call him bullheaded, but I shouldn’t call him stupid. Given that one assumption, the debate isn’t absurd, because from his point of view, the Bible must be false if evolutionary theory is true.
I don’t have that same problem, because I don’t understand the Bible as a whole, or Genesis 1-11 in particular in the same way that he does. Yet while I continue to have a very low regard for scientific arguments in favor of young earth creationism, as I’ve indicated in several recent articles, and I object to young earth creationists identifying their one interpretation of Genesis as “the Christian faith,” it is obviously quite possible for people with substantial IQs to disagree.
From the point of view of Catholic Biblical interpretation, it may, in fact, be absurd to come to a problem. I know that my wife, who was raised Catholic, never even saw this as an issue. I lack the knowledge of Catholic doctrine to comment intelligently on that fit. One assumes that Pope Benedict does not suffer from that deficiency, and that one can take his statement that the argument is absurd from that perspective as fairly definitive.
The primary debate, however, is not between Catholic theologians. It is rather between Christian fundamentalists and some conservative evangelicals and other protestants for the most part. And there we have a simple divide.
Tim LaHaye, in his book How to Study the Bible for Yourself states as his first rule of hermeneutics (p. 159), “Take the Bible literally.” In my copy of his book I have circled that statement and simply written “WRONG!” And there’s the key point of the debate. I don’t like the literal-figurative continuum as a single way of discussing how to take Biblical meaning. I prefer to discuss the types of literature involved, and what one might expect to get from those particular forms. As commonly understood, however, “literal” generally means “in the most concrete sense possible,” thus suggesting 7 literal 24 hour days, and accurate recording of all generations in the genealogies, for example. “Taking the Bible literally” in that sense of the word will result in support for young earth creationism.
The controversy is real, and not absurd, however shocking certain positions in it may seem to any one of us.
I am running late today, and may not get much of what I intended to post completed, but in the meantime, Mark Olson has a post on sola scriptura over at Pseudo-Polymath which is quite interesting. He has already been taken to task (only with the utmost courtesy, of course) by a commenter that the view of sola scriptura that he discusses is not one that would be recognized by most reformed or evangelical scholars.
In a way, the commenter is right, but in another way, not so much. I think most evangelical and reformed scholars who reside somewhere other than the ivory tower will have encountered such an attitude in the pews of protestant churches, and most have probably endeavored to better educate those who expressed it.
The popular perception, and one I even encounter from many pastors, is that sola scriptura somehow means that doctrines form sort of magically from scripture, without mental processes or influence from other sources. That caricature is very easy to knock down, but often needs knocking down, because there are so many people who thoughtlessly continue to hold it.
Hopelessly this post, and a promised follow-up will help people better understand the various positions.
I’m keeping things short today as I’m facing another deadline tomorrow night when some research materials have to be returned, and I need to have all my notes extracted and filed. Nonetheless, I did feel the urge to post a couple of things.
I’m promoting this comment from Peter Kirk because he makes a couple of good points. Some people never get down to the comments.
Of course starting a story Once upon a time is enough to identify it as not intended to be historical, with no need to mention a wicked witch. And most languages have similar pointers to fairy tale or equivalent genres – which are sometimes also in the verb tenses used. It is important for Bible translators to be aware of these pointers, because if they are not, translations of historical books of the Bible may end up being misunderstood as fairy tales. By contrast, the genealogy at the beginning of Matthew is sometimes understood as a strong indication that what follows is intended to be a factual narrative about real people. This kind of study is known as discourse analysis.
Peter is quite correct that the “once upon a time” indication is enough to identify such a story as one that is not intended to be historical. Many of us would clue in first on the wicked with, however, as it’s simply an easier clue. Such recognition becomes subconscious. We simply respond according to the genre because we have had practice.
Relatively few of us learn discourse analysis. For example, I went through my BA and MA in Biblical Languages without any training in that area at all. It was only when I became much more interested in Bible translation that I started to pay more attention to it and to read some about it. Amongst students that I teach, which means largely lay people without a formal education in Biblical studies, the only people I have encountered who have an acquaintance with it were one graduate student/teaching assistant in English literature and one philosophy instructor.
That is unfortunate, because we have many of the same people saying with confidence that Genesis 1, for example, sounds like history. On what basis do they say that? Well, generally they have the feeling that the “right” thing for it to sound like is something factual, because facts are more important than feelings any day. Other varieties of literature, in their view, don’t convey enough facts. I have often heard people in these settings judge works of fiction based solely on how much information one can learn from them. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings or Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia suffer, or are weighed solely on allegorical value (a questionable approach in Tolkien’s case at least).
A good starting point in recognizing literary genre is to put aside prejudices about what literature ought to accomplish. Literature does so much more than convey facts. It can also convey facts in many different ways. I wonder how many of you who have preached or taught have gone back later to find out what people remember. I have done so. I preached a sermon in which I set up a skit. A friend of mine in the audience was primed to angrily interrupt me in the middle of a sermon, and then we followed by ad libbing and argument. A couple of weeks later I asked a few people what we had talked about. The only thing that anybody remembered was the interruption and the skit, but they also remembered the point of the skit.
I use this approach in my study guide on Revelation. I ask members of the class to mention types of literature that they read and what they expect to get out of them. Once they’ve looked at how their lives actually interact with literature (and we usually extend it to other media as well), they begin to relax. Then we can ask what type of literature the book of Revelation is.
Which leads to another point. Information may be packaged and organized differently in different types of literature. Just because Genesis 1 is not narrative history, doesn’t mean it contains no information. Peter mentioned the way in which Matthew starts, and one might also look at the way Luke and Acts begin. In both cases there is an indication that they are trying to present factual information. I think those who try to claim that the gospels are not intended to present historical information do a disservice. The gospel writers were not writing as historians, but they were convinced that they were writing something that contained historical information, that is events that actually took place. Now we can look at what was important to them–chronology not as much as the spiritual meaning–and that will help us get the right information.
One last note. Genre doesn’t necessarily tell us how accurate a work is. We may determine that something is intended to portray history in some way, and yet also determine that the author was hopelessly careless or intentionally inaccurate. Josephus was intending to portray history, or at least he writes as though he was, yet his work is more a personal apologetic, and one can question many of his portrayals.
To be continued . . .
Yesterday I wrote about the importance of teaching and preaching on the doctrine of creation and also the “how” of creation in our churches. It’s important for us to understand what we believe about this. My personal view is that theology and Bible study tells us about God’s relationship to us and the natural sciences tell us about what is and how it came to be in terms of natural processes. But whether you agree with me on this or not, I suggest that now is not the time to be silent and hope the argument will go away.
The key element I mentioned in that post is literary genre, and I did so because it is a critical starting point in Biblical interpretation. One can read the Bible as literature and even treat one type of literature as another when doing so. As an example, one could read Job either as history or as literature. In terms of spiritual application, there would be only a small amount of difference. But if one is looking for propositional truths, it is important to understand first what the intention of the author was in whatever passage you’re studying.
The gospels make a good illustration for this point. Many debates about historicity simply shoot past one another because each speaker is making different assumptions about what type of literature the gospels represent, and what one can expect from that. At one extreme, the gospels are seen as pretty much pure theology, with any possible historical facts one may glean as incidental. At the other extreme one can view the gospels as pure history, describing the life of Jesus accurately, with theology being derived from the events and not the written presentation. I happen to think gospels are their own literary genre, with a number of variants when one includes non-canonical gospels, and that the historical value is considerable, though not the primary focus. But if one reads the gospels as histories, one might expect information that is not present, such as careful chronology. The various attempts to reconcile the chronology and create a life of Jesus from the four gospels demonstrate the difficulty.
As modern readers, we are used to having the major literary genres identified for us. When I want a science fiction novel, I go buy a book that is identified as such. I don’t have to read it to identify it. The title page or the jacket blurbs generally tell me what I need to know. In ancient times there are no such blurbs. In many cases, I believe we could easily identify modern types of fiction if they were presented to us. We would probably have some difficulty with historical fiction or with fictionalized biography, for example, but generally we’d get a pretty good idea. Why? Because we have read quite a number of examples of each genre.
And this brings up the common problem in determining the genre of Biblical documents. If we don’t specifically try to shift our viewpoint, we will likely try to force Biblical documents into modern categories, and do so by looking at their characteristics in comparison to what we read most. This will not result in an accurate picture. I experienced this personally in starting to study Biblical languages. As I moved further and further into ancient literature I found that there were other categories and styles than I was used to in my reading. The Bible felt more at home in that environment than when I tried to read it from a modern point of view.
So one obvious way to learn to recognize Biblical genres is to read a variety of ancient literature. That will expand your viewpoint and give you more points of comparison to more types of literature. I would suggest this process to anyone who is interested in understanding the Bible better. You are going to need to read a variety of things. For protestants, adding the apocrypha to your reading will help a great deal. There are other collections of ancient literature, however, that are also very helpful in getting perspective.
Let’s just consider one indicator that we commonly use in recognizing genre. Let’s call it the “wicked witch” indicator. By this I mean that we recognize a story as some literary form other than narrative history or a true/true-to-life story because things just don’t work the way the story says they do. If I start a story, “Once upon the time there was a wicked witch who lived in a broken down shack far out in the woods . . .” you will not be under any illusions that I am telling a modern, true-to-life story. (Apologies to any witches who read this. I’m willing to bet you don’t live in broken down shacks far out in the woods.)
Now consider the following from the Bible: “The trees went out to anoint a king over themselves . . .” — Judges 9:8
We know immediately that we are not going to read narrative history. Why? Trees do not behave that way. What follows is known as the parable of the trees.
Now one more example, this time from the apocrypha: “It was the twelfth year of the reign of Nebuchadnezzar, who ruled over the Assyrians in the great city of Nineveh. In those days Arphaxad ruled over the Medes in Ecbatana.” — Judith 1:1 (NRSV)
I suspect this one is nearly as easy to identify as the parable of the trees. Why? Because even based solely on the Biblical text, surely available to the author of Judith, we know that:
So here we have historical data that is clearly created using available names and countries. All of these are real, but they’re combined in impossible ways. It’s very likely, based on this, that the author of Judith had no intention of his book being taken as actual history. His readers with no more than the various historical books of Hebrew scripture, could have seen what he is doing.
Notice that we have twice identified a piece of literature as not being historical because in some sense things just don’t work in the way described.
To be continued . . .
Watching recent commentary on the Answers in Genesis creation museum, that huge waste of $27 million designed to proved that dinosaurs lived with human beings and even were preserved on the ark has led me to believe that education on this subject in church and Sunday School is even more important than I thought.
I do not believe the Museum glorifies God. It presents one rather lousy interpretation of Genesis, one that is at war with the facts, and in the long term will turn more people away from Christ by making Christians look as though they have no interest in honesty and integrity in science.
There are two major problems that I see in terms of public education about science. The first is the quality of science education in public schools, which is not good, and the quality of the public’s knowledge about science in general, however acquired. Many people who claim to reject evolution, for example, reject a caricature of what is actually taught by professional scientists in the relevant fields. Often that rejection comes about because of conclusions drawn from evolution which are not part of the science at all. I’ve written about this before.
A good, basic education based on the best scientific research available is essential. This is why I have regularly opposed the teaching of ID. My assessment of the scientific value of intelligent design (ID)–it has no value at all–is not the important thing here. The bottom line is that ID has not gone through the kind of rigorous research and testing required for a new scientific theory to be accepted as consensus science, which should be a prerequisite to its presence in high school science textbooks.
But more importantly, I know that a very large number of Christians do accept the theory of evolution and are also very serious about their Christian faith. The problem is that very often they are quite vague both on what evolutionary theory is (see above), and on how it relates to their faith. The standard response to such a discussion is simply that they don’t take the Bible all that literally, but that leaves open the door for groups such as AiG to come in and claim that they represent the real “Bible believers.”
It is not simply a matter of taking the language of Genesis less literally. One needs to carefully examine it to discover just what type of literature it is, and then interpret as one would normally interpret that type of literature. It is not just that AiG is taking Genesis literally; they are taking it as a form of narrative history. It’s not. Their interpretation is fundamentally flawed, and has created the huge clash they present between the findings of modern science and what they teach from the Bible. The clash is not necessary, however, if one simply deals with Genesis as what it is. (For introductory material, see my essays Genesis Creation Stories – Form, Structure, and Relationship and The Two Flood Stories. I link to many other essays from those posts.)
When I try to talk to people in churches about creation and evolution, however, most are quite resistant, even when they accept evolutionary theory. It’s easier to be quiet and just hope that the extremists will go away. But many in the church need to know not only that pastors and teachers can accept the theory of evolution and still be Christians. They need to know how they do it. Too often I hear, “I don’t see the problem.” Well, having grown up young earth creationists–and I literally mean from the earliest memory I have of thinking of creation I was educated YEC–and having accepted evolutionary theory later in life, I do see the problem. Doctrines are stated in terms that seem to support the literal, narrative history view.
Again, some have suggested to me that they don’t want to waste their time on such a non-spiritual issue. But here I agree with the young earth folks. Creation is an important spiritual issue. (For my view of a Biblical doctrine of creation, see the pamphlet God the Creator.) But even further Bible study is falling off in our churches today and people are losing Biblical literacy. Genesis provides an excellent workshop for teaching methods of Bible study and ways of discerning the literary genre of various passages. It can provide the foundation for a much more effective Bible study discipline for church members. Their Bible study will become much more enlightening when they understand how to handle various literary genres. What information can you get from them? What are they intended to convey? What value might they have other than conveying propositional truths?
I think that we, as Christians, would do well to talk about this more, to preach it and to teach it in our Sunday School classes. And in spite of my own strongly held views, I do suggest that this happen no matter what your position. I no more want theistic evolution to become a Christian doctrine than I want young or old earth creationism to become enshrined in doctrinal statements. I think that we should use doctrinal statements to describe God’s relationship to us, and allow scientific study to determine how things work in the physical universe. I would be and have been perfectly willing to share Sunday School classes and even the platform with advocates for young earth creationism.
But the discussion needs to get out in the open, especially in those mainline churches who tend to hope that such arguments will go away. If we in mainline churches are embarrassed by the creation museum, we need to get more vocal about how we understand science, our faith, and their relationship.
Expect me to continue to be vocal on this issue for a long time to come.
There is a whole category of assertions about the Bible that I call “pious,” that reflect people’s desire to respect the Bible and uphold its authority, but that are often inaccurate and poorly considered. I would ask whether a statement can be truly pious and respectful if it is also not true. My suggestion is that we consider carefully whatever statements we make about the Bible to be certain that the reflect what the Bible actually is and its purpose in the Christian community.
For example, there are exaggerated statements of obedience. “I do everything the Bible says,” someone announces. Do they really? That’s quite unlikely. There actions are probably more nuanced than that, but it just sounds so good to claim that you do everything the Bible says. Every theological position I know of has some element to limit certain commands to particular times or places, as well they should. But further very few of us, at best, could claim to always carry out God’s will for us in everything, can we? Perhaps we should say something more like, “I do my best to obey God’s commands as they apply in my life” or “I do my best to follow God’s will with his help or strength.” That sounds more like respect, combined with honesty.
A second category is those statements that treat the book almost like a person. At our daughter’s wedding the little Bible boy was a fairly lively individual. He was carrying my very most favorite Bible, a Cambridge NRSV with wide margins, two markers, and decent sized print. I have a number of full sets of sermon notes in the margins of that Bible. My daughter wanted him to carry it. During rehearsal, he grabbed it, folded it over backward, and started beating the altar rail with it. May I say that it got on my nerves? But my distress was due to my love of books, and to my desire to have that particular book in good condition, not out of fear that God might be angry at the mistreatment of the book. I have encountered people who are afraid to mark their Bibles, write in the margins, or even carry them under tough circumstances. There’s the standard admonition to put the Bible on the top of any stack of books. But the bottom line is that your actual Bible is still just ink and paper. It’s the divine inspiration, the message, that is holy, and that will not be damaged even if the original is flushed down the toilet.
Finally, there are the bad analogies. My favorite is the “boy scout manual.” Whenever someone gets that saintly smile on their face, and tells me that the Bible is just like the scout manual, I am pretty sure they’ve either never read the scout manual or never read their Bible–usually the latter. The Bible is actually almost, but not quite totally unlike a scout manual. I say “almost” because the Bible is a book with paper, ink, covers, and so forth. Après church has a good post related to this here (HT: Wayne Leman of Better Bibles Blog).
The problem is what I call the “Sunday School” answer. We know we’re supposed to respect the Bible as God’s Word. We know it’s important. But often in the modern Christian community we don’t actually know what’s in it, so we can’t make our own accurate statements of why it’s important to us. Thus we use just any comment that sounds pious and respectful, so we can appear to respect the Bible without the effort of digging into it.
For me, the Bible is an important companion as I commune with God. Over the years my times of prayer and Bible study have become more and more blurred. That’s because I see prayer as communion with God, and I see Bible study in the same way. God speaks to me through the Bible. My understanding of his will is enlightened by the Bible.
There’s a good old statement that does well for me: Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light for my path. — Psalm 119:105
. . . in which, of course, I respond to chapter 6. I will post a directory to the whole series of responses, with the final entry, but in the meantime you will get the series by choosing category “Textual Criticism” in the right sidebar. There are other entries in that category, but all the most recent ones are in this series.
In chapter 6, Theologically Motivated Alterations of the Text, Ehrman looks at some specific points of theology and the way in which scribes altered, or tried to alter the text in opposition to those viewpoints. In our surviving texts, he notes, we don’t have many non-orthodox alterations, because it was the orthodox who won the day, and their texts were the ones that were preserved.
He discusses three theological points which engendered theologically motivated changes: Adoptionist christology (Adoptionism in Wikipedia), docetic christology (Docetism in Wikipedia), and separationist christology. Adoptionism holds that Jesus was not born the son of God but was adopted, docetic christology holds that Jesus merely appeared to be human and to suffer as a human, but in fact, it was all just an illusion, while separationism suggested that Jesus was completely separated from God when he died, i.e. his divinity did not suffer death with his humanity.
In each case, these anti-orthodox positions resulted in changes. These alterations to the text did not change the theology in a major way, but in the likely view of the scribes who made the changes they prevented people from interpreting a passage in an unorthodox way.
I would simply make two notes on this chapter. First, it’s easy to make too much of such changes. The defense, as I frequently like to say, is never to base theology on a single text, but rather on an overall message an author is trying to present. Second, the abundance of Greek manuscripts lets us get behind this type of changes.
I do agree with Ehrman that these types of alterations should be of concern if one holds a verbal plenary view of inspiration. If the individual words are so critical, as opposed to the overall message, then how could God allow the inspired words to be replaced wholesale? It’s easy to say that the abundance of manuscripts means that we can get at the original texts with a high degree of accuracy, but what about all those believers who used the various flawed manuscripts? What about the English speaking church before the ERV? (Note that the ERV used the Westcott and Hort text, and thus corrected numerous inaccuracies in the KJV.)
I am absolutely comfortable saying that one can access God’s message via scripture, but when that message is reduced to the word by word level, i.e. if every word is important, then the state of the manuscripts is problematic.
