Threads from Henry's Web

Tag: exegesis

  • Historicity of Genesis 1-11

    I think those of us who are not all that conservative, as in moderates and liberals, do everyone a disservice with the admonition, “Don’t take it so literally.” Unless, of course, we break down “not literally” a bit further. The word “literal” has gotten muddied in the public understanding, and is often taken to mean “true,” so “not taking it so literally” is “not taking it so truthfully.” But more importantly, literal is (or should be) a fairly narrow category and “not literal” involves quite a number of possible types of literature.

    But there’s another question that non-scholarly readers of the Bible have pretty regularly: Just what is it that I’m supposed to get out of this? I’ve heard this many times teaching groups of United Methodist laypeople, well educated folks, but not Bible scholars. They’re pretty well convinced they shouldn’t take it too literally, but they are often uncertain where to go from there. Then they hear anyone who doesn’t take it literally condemned as one who doesn’t believe the Bible at all.

    To narrow that down again, just what historical information might one get out of a non-historical passage of scripture? In the case of Genesis 1-11, I have frequently noted that it is not narrative history. But “narrative history” is not necessarily equivalent to “no historical value at all.” There is more of a continuum (one of my favorite words) of possibilities for historical values, and a number of twists and turns.

    For example, I could say that a book is a work of fiction. Does that mean that it has no historical value? Consider these examples:

    • A fantasy novel/series, not set in the real world, such as Lord of the Rings
      One might extract information on the time of the writer, but vanishingly little information about the real world. Even extrapolating to the time of the writer based on his themes would be a difficult proposition.
    • A generic novel set in the real world, Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged
      This book is intentionally set in an indefinite future (from the time of writing) with generic titles for government officials such as head of state rather than president, for example. There are incidental references to real historical figures, numerous references to real places, but also numerous references to things that don’t exist. One would get a very skewed view of the United States if this is one’s source. Yet one would find historical data embedded in it.
    • A novel set in a realistic historical period, Rand’s The Fountainhead, for example.
      I’m distinguishing this category from historical novel in that presenting historical information is not part of the author’s intent, yet the setting is intended to reflect a specific period.
    • A historical novel
      Often a fictional story intended to present a realistic view of a period of history. While the actual characters and character-specific events are fictional, the background and the major historical events are generally intended as accurate.
    • A biography
      Generally this is intended as true, yet dialog and information about the subject may limit the general historical value.
    • A history with a mission
      Portrayal of a period of history intended to present a particular philosophy of history, or the viewpoint of a particular group or something similar.
    • An objective (wishfully) history
      In this case, the author intends to write a sequence of events from an objective point of view in order to correctly portray those events, not accomplish some philosophical goal. Absolute objectivity is impossible, I believe. I’m speaking about the intent.

    That gives a kind of summary of some of the levels of historicity that one might find. Consider the gospels briefly. It is fairly common in a course in the gospels (or one particular gospel) to note that the gospel writers did not set out with the intent of writing history. They are presenting a picture of Jesus. Many things that an objective historian (remember: intention!) might present are subordinated to the picture the writer is trying to portray. Some people here this comment as a statement that the gospels contain no historical information, or no reliable historical information. That is certainly never my intent in making the statement. I’m simply pointing out that we should expect the needs of the historian to be thoroughly subordinated to the needs of the biographer and even more so to the theologian.

    So let’s briefly look at some historical options in Genesis 1-11 now that we have some loose collection of ideas to which to compare.

    The first option, of course, is to regard this portion of scripture as narrative history. Many Christians have done so. This assumption leaves a number of details to be discussed. How detailed is that history? Is it chronological? This latter question can come in two parts: 1) Is it intended as sequential or descriptive in another sense? and 2) Is it intended to portray the passage of time accurately?

    Young earth creationists (YEC) would answer that it is narrative history, that it is intended to be sequential, and that the passage of time is intended as an accurate portrayal. This involves two aspects of the text. First, we have the days of Genesis 1 & 2. In the YEC position, these are literal, 24 hours days. But secondly we have the years in the genealogies of Genesis 5 & 11. Here the YEC position is that the years are real years, are accurately portrayed, and that there are no gaps in the genealogies, in other words they are complete.

    That’s a substantial number of claims. I would simply note that if you start from level ground, looking at the story in the context of ancient near eastern literature, none of these things is obvious. Nonetheless it is not my purpose to evaluate, so much as to point out the possibilities.

    Old earth creationists (OEC), differ from this in that while most of them would hold that the sequence is intended as true, the flow of time in the narrative is not even. For example, between Genesis 1:1 and Genesis 1:6 there would be nine billion+ years, while between Genesis 1:6 and 1:11 there would be a bit less than 4 billion years, while starting with verse 14 we have some difficulties with sequence. The genealogies are assumed to contain gaps so as to provide a longer history following Adam and Eve.

    Some OECs read the passage more symbolically, i.e. it contains valid historical information, but this information is presented in the form of symbols. Thus sequence, consistency of timing, and referent can be adjusted substantially while still maintaining that there is historical content.

    Finally, Christians who accept evolution, but not all theistic evolutionists, most commonly see the passage as mythology, i.e. God presents truth through the medium of the cosmology and the way in which such information was presented in that culture. Now one might think this means there is no historical information in the passage, but again that is not the case. It will still present information about how the world was understood in its time, and how the authors understood themselves and their relationship to God. That is historical information, even though that is not what is intended.

    Note that there are some Christian theistic evolutionists who would also see these passages symbolically and find some sense of a presentation of the way it happened in the passage. Thus there are a variety of views on the historical content of the material, and those views don’t precisely match. I have been extremely brief here and probably have left some holes. Hopefully readers will quibble with me in the comments to some can get filled in.

    Two additional notes:

    1. I don’t regard any of this as an issue with inerrancy. I know folks who accept Biblical inerrancy who have no problem with the idea of regarding a passage as symbolic or as myth, provided that one is assuming that was the way God intended it to be presented. Then the portion that would be inerrant is whatever message God intended to present in that medium. I don’t accept inerrancy, but I like my debates over the topic to relate to actual disputes!
    2. I distinguish here Christian theistic evolutions as there are numerous other options for those who are theists but not Christians, including ignoring the Bible completely. Deistic views of evolution similarly have no need of discussing how Genesis is understood. This is strictly a Christian or Jewish enterprise, and is different in nature for each of those groups.

  • Book: Evolution and Christian Faith

    I’m constantly on the lookout for books on evolutionary theory aimed at the general public rather than specialized audiences, so when I saw this little book on the shelf of the local university library, I took it home to check out.

    My response to it is a bit mixed. There are a number of good things about it. It’s simple, it presents most of the basics of evolutionary theory at the most basic level, and it deals with intelligence design briefly and vigorously. On the other hand, its approach to Biblical interpretation is vague, its theology is a bit soft, and its assumption that these arguments have any hope of reaching fundamentalists or even conservative evangelicals is frankly just a bit naive.

    The author, Dr. Joan Roughgarden, is an evolutionary biologist who is also a Christian and a member of the Episcopal church. She begins by discussing the relationship between science and religion. She suggests that the conflict between religion and science is fostered by the fact that we don’t discuss the two together. Her favorite topic of research is lizards, and she laments that evolutionists rarely discuss God and anti-evolutionists discuss God and rarely discuss lizards (p. 6).

    Unfortunately she really doesn’t do very much of discussing the two together. She does draw a few lines of connection between the Bible and science, but these can be divided between the naive and the distantly metaphorical. I don’t mean to be too cruel here, because there are a number of wonderful passages in this book, especially in describing the basics of evolutionary theory in non-specialists terms.

    In this early chapter she also intends to draw a distinction between what is solid and what is still questionable or “squishy” in evolutionary theory. That promise is very interesting, as is her distinction between the “real” controversies, which are in the details and in the leading edge of evolutionary theory, as opposed to the fake controversy created by intelligent design.

    In the second chapter, Dr. Roughgarden discuss the first “solid” element of evolutionary theory which she rightly calls a fact, common descent. She argues that there is nothing in a literal reading of Genesis that would deny this. The then continues in the third chapter with variation, which again she says does not contradict a literal reading of Genesis. I happen to agree with her on this point, as I state in my earlier blog post An Evolutionary Understanding of Kinds. The problem, as most people who have discussed this issue will see, is that with these two elements we’re pretty much out of literal readings of Genesis 1 and 2 that will support evolutionary theory, and most conservative Christians will not even agree to those.

    Thus it is no surprise that chapter 4 deals with reading the Bible literally, and suggests essentially that Jesus came to change a rule-based approach to one based on principles and relationships. Most interpreters would have some trouble using that point to suggest that we now have permission to read certain things literally or not literally based on whether they agree with our scientific understanding. The connection there is a bit vague. Further the dividing line is also a bit vague. How do you decide?

    Dr. Roughgarden doesn’t tell us. She leaves us with the literal reconciliation of common descent and variation without a “kinds” boundary in living things, while suddenly rejecting such a literal reading of the days of creation based on the changed approach brought by Jesus. I don’t think this will provide a consistent approach to hermeneutics, and I don’t think it will impress the fundamentalists.

    In the fifth chapter she carries this point to the other extreme, using the vine and the branches (John 15:1-6) as an illustration connecting natural breeding (which she prefers to natural selection) in the Bible. This is such a metaphorical connection that it strains my reading a bit, and I’m quite an advocate of metaphorical readings. But she goes on in chapter 6 using Mark 13 and the parable of the sower as a connection to random mutation (p. 45). The explanation of random mutation is pretty good, however.

    Chapter 7 is a discussion of direction in evolution which, in my opinion, doesn’t deal adequately with the challenge presented by the theory of evolution to the older Christian understanding of the way in which the universe works. This is followed by chapter 8 which is occupied by a discussion of Roman Catholic theology. In it, Dr. Roughgarden acknowledges that the challenge to evolutionary theory and the impetus to teach intelligent design in the science classroom are not largely driven by Catholics. Those who are pushing it are, to a large extent, not going to be moved by statements by the Pope, however good those statements are.

    Following this is a chapter on the things that evolution has not accomplished yet which is largely dedicated to discussing the definition of an individual, and where natural selection operates, individual or group.

    The chapter on intelligent design was quite good. I was surprised that after a call largely for peace, this chapter is a pretty vigorous attack. On page 94 Dr. Roughgarden provides four things that intelligent design proponents need to do in order to get their views examined scientifically (p. 94). These are good criteria that would require the ID folks to do some actual science, an unlikely prospect. She further describes the controversy proposed by ID (as in “teach the controversy”) as “concocted” (p. 95), and finally calls ID “junk religion” (p. 101). She says it should be discussed in religion classes in order to point out just how bad it is as theology. She doesn’t think it has any place in science classrooms. On this, of course, I agree!

    Chapter 11 is given to sexual selection, and I have a hard time seeing why it is in the book. It makes little sense to me, but I’m not an evolutionary biologist. If it does have a purpose, that would seem to be to suggest that we shouldn’t present natural selection in such a competitive fashion. I’m not sure just how this works. Natural selection does involve a fairly heavy competitive element.

    The last chapter points to new directions. These could be summarized by saying that scientists should present themselves less like Richard Dawkins, and theologians should avoid referring to a wrathful God so much. I’m pretty much in agreement with that, but I don’t think either Dawkins or Falwell and Roberts (who she uses to illustrate what’s wrong in religion) will follow the suggestions.

    My overall impression is that Dr. Roughgarden is a good scientist who has a liberal view of religion, but has a limited understanding of the type of theological ideas that drive evangelicals and fundamentalists. She expresses a peaceful and experiential faith that I can truly appreciate. If my review sounds rough, it’s because I don’t think that she has engaged the controversy that is actually going on. She’s hoping for peace.

    I enjoyed this book, but I don’t feel I can add it to my list of recommended reading for those who are trying to get acquainted with the creation-evolution controversy.

  • Reason is all over Bible Study

    In a post on Complegalitarian, Molly Alley discusses how reasonable it is to hold a doctrine that assumes that women will never mature, as in men where once boys who needed the guidance of a parent, but eventually they become mature and are considered ready for leadership. But what about women?

    Of course, as an egalitarian, I think the idea that women can’t be in leadership is nonsense, and I want to focus on that word, nonsense, and the phrase good common sense in Molly’s concluding question that I quote below, along with the related term reasonable.

    Molly says:

    In other words, why does female subjection not seem to make good common sense (to me, anyways) when so many of the other commands do?

    Now there’s a lively discussion of Molly’s actual point on that blog, and it’s one I’m not going to get into. What I’m going to discuss here takes off at a sharp angle from the topic, but it may explain why I find it next to impossible to get into these debates.

    For many people that I encounter the idea that one uses reason or what is reasonable as part of one’s interpretation of scripture is somewhere between irritating and blasphemous, and it’s weighted toward blasphemous. Obviously God is wiser than we are, and he could ask us to do things that don’t seem reasonable to us, but that are reasonable from his perspective. Of course the question remains (and I discuss it in my book When People Speak for God), of just one decides whether one is doing something that is really stupid, or whether one is using divine wisdom.

    The fact is that we all use reason when we read, interpret, and apply the scriptures. There’s no way out. Our reason is what we use to process information. We can hope it’s reason guided by the Holy Spirit, but that doesn’t make it any less a matter of reason. So the question is not whether reason will be involved. The question is just how well one’s reason will function when it is involved.

    Let’s consider Molly’s question. There are several perspectives from which I can ask the question whether a command, such as the command not to let women speak in church, is reasonable.

    1. I can look from my own perspective. Does this look reasonable in my context? If I am as objective about this as possible, I will look at the potential harm and benefit to see whether a specific command works where I live. A good question is this: Does the command have the effect in my environment that it would have had when it was first given? The only reason I use the original context here is that it is helpful to have some anchor point when discussing the impact of a particular policy. This is largely a question of application and applicability.
    2. You can ask about the perspective of the original author. Does this command look reasonable as you interpret it in the world of that author? Does it appear reasonable that the command would have the effect that is clearly intended? What is that effect? (You can then check that effect with point #1.)
    3. What about God’s perspective? Since none of us have even a prayer of a God’s eye view, what I mean here is to ask just how universally the command could reasonably be expected to be in application. Does it look like the sort of thing that should be universal? As an example, “you shall not commit murder” is uttered and presented in a way that looks like it is intended universally. “Hide yourself by the Wadi Cherith” looks like it’s intended very specifically. But there will likely be a whole range of commands and statements between that will not be nearly so obvious.
    4. Does the command make sense theologically? Most of us have theological baggage. Some consider it an ideal to jettison all of that and come at the text anew. For exegesis, I think that can be helpful, but when it comes down to application, it has to fit into a system. Many of the Biblical commands that we no longer follow are regarded as inapplicable because of our existing theology. For example, the command to bring an animal to the tabernacle and sacrifice it instantly registers as “no applicable to me” because my theology says that one has passed away.
    5. Is there another reasonable way to understand the text? Many people struggle with texts believing they have to accept a certain interpretation when the solution might lie in rechecking the exegesis and application.

    Reason is not merely useful, it’s essential in applying the Bible to our lives. Molly has asked a good question. Even when we do something that appears weird because we believe God has commanded it, some combination of revelation, reason, and experience has brought us to the conclusion that, despite popular opinion, our course of action is reasonable. Thus I think Molly’s question is a good one, and could be applied to many aspects of this situation.

    As a sort of postscript, let me note that I do not find a modern application of the various texts that indicate that women shouldn’t preach or enjoy leadership roles to be reasonable at all. There are a number of reasons for this, certainly including the evidence that women carried out those roles in the earliest stages of the church. One of the best indications that a command is not universal is that you find exceptions in the very literature in which the command is contained.

    Thus I tire of detailed exegetical arguments about these texts on both sides, even though I understand my more conservative brothers and sisters feel the need to go that way. Paul speaks pastorally to his situation. It should be no shock that he doesn’t overturn every aspect of the culture–he’s overturning enough already. But my situation in the modern world is so much different, that I find it extremely unreasonable to try to apply Paul’s pastoral advice in unadjusted form to the modern church. Thus when Paul says “husband of one wife” in my application I think “monogamous.” When Paul argues based on Adam being created first, I think, “I bet that made sense to Paul and that audience and got them on board, but it doesn’t make any sense to me.

    But then I guess I’m a dangerous liberal (per my accusers) or passionate moderate (by my own confession) and I’m just intent on ignoring the Bible. Well, no, not actually. I think the Bible is a gold mine of principles, and more importantly it guides me in hearing God speak to my situation today. I’m glad that God continues to speak, and today he does so both through women and men.

  • Tools: A Reader’s Hebrew-English Lexicon of the Old Testament

    I have blogged previously just a little bit about the A Reader’s Hebrew-English Lexicon of the Old Testament, and also made some negative comments about the use of interlinears, especially for Greek or Hebrew students.

    I recommend this lexicon for use in reading rapidly in order to encounter a large body of text in Biblical Hebrew. It does have a small portion of the problems of an interlinear. It presents you with a gloss that is likely appropriate, according to the authors, for the passage in question. It’s easy to bypass the context in that case, and just accept their gloss as it is. That is something you should avoid.

    I used this in doing some reading in Isaiah today myself. It has been a couple of years since I last used it. It is very convenient, because it does not include those words used 50 or more times in the Hebrew Bible, and then lists all other vocabulary items by verse. I found that the selected gloss was a good starting point. I’m not going to be making a habit of it, however, because generally if I find a word that I don’t know I want more information than that before I go on. But I can read text in this fashion if I want to.

    I’m spoiled a bit by Logos, because there I can have my keylink hooked up to HALOT, and thus get a much more substantial rundown on any particular word. In addition, I have the invaluable lemma report which allows me to see how that word is used throughout the Hebrew scriptures. But in the absence of such tools, fast reading could be facilitated by use of the Reader’s Lexicon.

    Some people question the value of such reading. Here’s why I recommend it as part, not all, of your reading in Biblical languages. There are at least two levels of “knowing” a vocabulary item from a language other than your native one. First, you may know a gloss, or a set of glosses that might be applied based on context. This is what is provided by normal vocabulary memorization, provided you memorize alternate options. You will build that type of vocabulary best by taking time to carefully study each word. The second is when you come to feel the range of a word’s meaning in it’s own language, because you have seen or heard it many times in many contexts, and you can select the range of meaning for the current context almost automatically.

    When you deal with translation and exegesis, both are useful. You will only develop the second by reading large quantities of text or hearing large amounts of the language spoken. With a dead language, hearing is difficult, and you must substitute reading. Then when you encounter a word, you will remember having seen it in many contexts. This is one of the major values of rapid reading.

    But there

  • Rightly Dividing or Slicing and Dicing – Jeremiah 4:23

    In debates on creation and evolution I have occasionally encountered the ruin and restoration theory. This view allows an old earth, but does so in a different way. Genesis 1:1 is viewed as an original creation, and then the word in 1:2 normally translated “was” is instead translated “became.” I discuss the details in the article above.

    But what I find even more interesting, and certainly more relevant to this Bible study blog, is the slicing and dicing that must be done on verses elsewhere in scripture in order to make them fit with this theory. In fact, one of my major complaints about dispensationalism is that it tends to make it next to impossible to read contextually. The context is created by the dispensations, but clearly not recognized by the writers of the text.

    An example of this tendency is Jeremiah 4:23. This is summarized in a note in [tag]Scofield[/tag]’s Reference Bible: “Cf. Gen. i.2. “Without form and void” describes the condition of the earth as the result of the judgment (vs. 24-26; Isa. xxiv. 1) which overthrew the primal order of Genesis i.1.”

    But if you look at Jeremiah 4, you find that the topic has nothing to do with any original creation, nor with a primal judgment but rather with a judgment on Judah for its sins. The prophet goes on to depict the destruction that will come on the land. There is no literary division between verse 22, clearly about Judah, and verse 23, which Scofield is claiming refers to another time and place.

    The argument is that “without form and void” refers back to Genesis 1:2, as surely it does. But for what purpose does it make this reference? It intends to compare the judgment to a removal of all the blessings of creation and to evoke that primal emptiness as a hyperbolic description of the destruction to come to Judah. Is there justification for calling it hyperbole? Absolutely. First, I would accept this as hyperbole based on the context alone. The context clearly indicates the destruction of Judah by Babylon, and “without form and void” is hyperbole in connection with that destruction. But further, in verse 27, after providing this description of absolute destruction, we find this: “. . . yet will I not make a full end.” “Without form and void” is pretty complete. This is all allowable in poetic language.

    To understand this as referring to another time and place is to take it completely out of the context of Jeremiah. Such an interpretation would mean that Jeremiah suddenly, in the middle of a comparatively coherent discussion of one topic, changes subjects for several lines without any indication that the subject has changed, and then switches back. Verse 28, for example, again speaks of this destruction as future.

    If one can do that, then one can take any phrase or clause of scripture and force it to mean anything one desires.

  • The Story in Scripture

    One of the ways I believe we frequently misunderstand scripture is by trying to take elements of it outside of the story in which they are set. My view of interpretation places the story above, or perhaps better around the propositional statements. I do not intend this approach to settle disputes about propositional statements in scripture and whether they are true and reliable, as I am not denying that there are numerous propositional statements. God must have wanted them there.

    The problem is that it’s terribly easy to miss the story, and to take particular propositions from scripture apart from the means by which God communicated those propositions and the way it which that was done. The most typical, and probably most extreme example of this problem comes in the interpretation of Job. Often the speeches of Job’s three friends are cited as support for theological propositions, even though God later declares these to be “words without knowledge” (Job 38:1). God’s declaration can certainly be applied to the speeches of the friends, who are later instructed to ask for Job’s intercession (Job 42:7-8). It can probably also be applied to Job’s, even though we are told that Job didn’t sin with his lips (Job 2:10). Nonetheless Job’s words in the depths of despair should receive careful consideration before they are used in support of a theological proposition.

    Job provides a good example of the different ways in which a proposition can be set in various stories. First we can ask when Job was written and what the general purpose was for writing it. That is, in itself, a story. There was a need to answer questions about the way God deals with people. Do just people always get rewarded? Is suffering always the result of sins? Second, each proposition falls into a place in the story of the book. This latter one is easy to discover, as the speeches are identified. By reading the whole story, you can guess that the speeches written by the guys who are told to offer sacrifices (Job 42:7-8) are less likely to be true than the ones uttered by God out of the whirlwind!

    Currently I’m continuing my study of Isaiah. Now I’ve been through this book a number of times, but during the past year I’ve been working through it multiple times. I’m continue to study through 2nd Isaiah (chapters 40-55) in connection with Brevard Childs’ commentary. One of Childs’ major contributions in Biblical studies was in canonical criticism, looking at Biblical passages in their canonical context. This goes well beyond what I’ve just described about Job in several ways.

    Let me quote Childs:

    In my commentary, in contrast to those who would fragment the chapter [referring to chapter 30-HN] I have argued that the different layers of the present text are to be seen as reflecting the accumulated experience of a faithful community with God through the lenses provided by Israel’s sacred scriptures. In the later levels of compositional growth the message of divine judgment and salvation are organically linked in a way that was at first, on the primary level of the tradition, unclear. However, increasingly the prophetic message gained in clarity as the anticipated eschatological salvation was painted with colors enriched by later apocalyptic imagery to form an organic whole. Hermeneutically speaking, it is crucial to understand how the major force in the shaping of the prophetic corpus derived from the experience by Israel of an ongoing encounter with God mediated through scripture rather than through the direct influence of allegedly independent events of world affairs. It is precisely this filtering process of scriptural reflection on the ways of God that gave a coherent meaning to the changing life of Israel in the world of human affairs. — Childs, Isaiah, pp. 228-229

    Now I quote that full paragraph to tie in the history of composition into the story of scripture. Just as I noted in my recent book that the Bible was written by people who “heard voices,” so also the Bible was written by people who perceived God as active in history, and who interpreted both their experiences and their existing texts in the light of that understanding. God did not simply speak by speaking; God spoke (and speaks) by acting.

    I believe I tend to be slightly more optimistic about the value of such methods as form and redaction criticism than Childs is. Nonetheless I am very grateful to him for his influence on Biblical studies in general, because he was able to bend the use of those methodologies toward a use in understanding the text that we have and setting it in a context of revelation, and away from fragmentation. He was also able to wean many away from looking for the earliest form of the tradition in order to discover the “true meaning.”

    The scriptures came into existence as God acted in and communicated with a community, and their understanding grew and clarified as they went along. They learned new things about God’s actions in history. They took literary forms and altered them to teach new lessons. This is yet another story in which we need to set scriptural propositions–the story of how those propositions got where they are now. I believe this is the continuing value of much critical methodology. It can suggest to us, and on a few occasions establish for us, the history of a piece of text so that we can see how that would grow in the community for which it was intended.

    Ultimately I believe that we would understand the use of the Old Testament in the New much better if we saw this interaction of action and revelation in continuous play. The early Christians have a number of motifs with which they are familiar from Hebrew scriptures. At the same time they have the experience of Jesus. Rather than sitting back and studying the Hebrew scriptures to determine whether they predict Jesus and the events of his life as they are read in historical context, they read them with the view that Jesus must be the ultimate divine revelation (Hebrews 1:1-3), and they also know that the scriptures they have are the result of divine action.

    Thus they start reading those scriptures through a new lens, and incorporating those motifs into their theologies, their lives, and and their communities in a new light. While some of the results may be startling, they are not so radical in method. They simply continue the process of God’s revelation and the way in which those on and through whom God acts work to understand that action.

    I add to the challenge of finding the immediate story in a Biblical book the challenge of asking how the elements of the book came together into a whole, if that was the process, and of asking what role it played in the broader story of salvation narrated and illustrated in scripture.