Threads from Henry's Web

Tag: hermeneutics

  • Of Contexts, Communities, and Individuals

    Stop Taking Jeremiah 29:11 Out of Context is the headline in RELEVANT magazine. Thomas Turner is writing vigorously about the apparently shameful misuse of this passage of scripture. He points out that it’s used on graduation cards and often quoted in words of encouragement to individuals. He summarizes:

    Sure, it might make a person feel better, but this verse as we often prescribe it is being taken completely out of context. It doesn’t mean what people think it means. It’s time to back up and see what the author of Jeremiah is actually saying.

    Really? Totally out of context? Read his article first, and you may see just how much of what we say about the passage is very close to the same thing. Yet I’m coming to a different conclusion on the usage of the text on a graduation card or as a matter of encouragement.

    Jeremiah is not talking to each of us personally. Jeremiah is speaking to Israel. Quite true! Further, Jeremiah is talking about our high school graduations, or our difficulties in finding a job or a spouse. Just so. Jeremiah is not talking about those things. But the fact is that scripture does not generally talk to us quite that directly.

    I’m a great fan of context. One has to be in order to study scripture. But I’m not a fan of the excessive or indiscriminate application of rules. Almost any rule can be misapplied or stretched. A compact, memorable rule is very much like Jeremiah 29:11—when you use it, you will tend to bypass a great deal of logic and background.

    Take, for example, the etymological fallacy. This is a very real and quite pernicious fallacy. I encounter it regularly in reading. Someone lays out the root(s) of a word, and derives a meaning from them. “‘Church’ in Greek is ekklesia,” says the confident but careless preacher, “and that comes from ek, ‘out of’ and klesia which comes from the word for ‘called’, so the church is the ‘called out ones’.”

    But there are some uses for etymology. One is for fun, where a speaker might help us remember a point by pointing out etymology. Provided one doesn’t claim that the etymology has the last word about the meaning of the passage, there’s no problem with this. It’s fun. It helps one remember things. In addition, it can help one with spelling. And did I mention that it’s fun?

    The second is when studying obscure words which one has available in only a limited number of contexts. It’s easy to announce that a word’s meaning is determined by usage, and that we discover that meaning by observing it in various contexts. But some words might occur only once, or even just a very few times in the literature we have available. What then? Well, etymology can provide pointers. I observed this in studying Ugaritic. My knowledge of Hebrew regularly suggested possibilities for words I encountered in Ugaritic, then context would help narrow down my choices. As a student, of course, I had recourse to the available literature on the topic to check my work.

    Ugaritic, in turn, suggested some possible options for understanding rare words in Hebrew. At which point the etymological fallacy would often come into play again. Ugaritic could be helpful, but it could also send the unwary off into flights of fancy.

    I take that detour to point out that we can apply rules, even good rules, improperly. Rules themselves require context. That’s true of the use of context as well. I learned before I was in High School (most of which I skipped anyhow) that one should always take texts in context. But there was a fallacy hidden in there too. The type of context I learned about was the literary context, i.e. discovering what the author said before and after, and placing the text into that context.

    That’s good. We want to do that. We’ve already pointed out how Jeremiah isn’t talking about us personally. He’s looking at a community. Not only that, he’s looking at a specific community, Israel. He’s looking at that community at a specific time and in specific circumstances. What he says will be fulfilled in specific ways to those people.

    And with that last sentence I blast my way right out of literary context and start looking at historical context. (Jeremiah lays out the historical circumstances of his statement in the context. I’m talking about the broader history of the fulfilment of his statement.) Now we realize that there is much more to context than just the literary context. Notice here that we also get away from a “one meaning” fallacy, the idea that a text means only one, limited thing. (And that rule could be badly misapplied as well!)

    And this context can lead us to a canonical context. How do the words of Jeremiah tie in with scripture as a whole? (I will pass over the issue of whose scripture. I write as a Christian, reading as a Christian.) The exile, regarding which Jeremiah writes, becomes a historical watershed for Israel, and comes to define, along with the exodus, must of the Christian understanding of redemption. There’s a reason so many prophecies of 2nd Isaiah (40-55) are later applied to Jesus, even though in context, they have more immediate applicability. The entire event—exile and restoration—takes on new meaning in this theological context.

    We might argue that this is improper usage. If Jeremiah didn’t mean it or Isaiah didn’t mean it (an assumption on our part), then how can we use it in that way? First, if we don’t accept a theological context, we’re pretty much out of business as a community with a shared theology, i.e. a shared understanding of God. Second, we do this kind of reshaping of events and stories all the time with other literature. While I believe what the author intended needs to be an anchor, a guide, even a limitation, preventing flights of fancy with the text, words do take on a power of their own in a community. (I would suggest the example of how Melchizedek is used in Hebrews, but this post would grow to long if I discussed that further.)

    I’m not, however, suggested that we can just grab the text and do what we want with it because there are such things as canonical and even theological contexts. As with literary context, we have to look at what these contexts actually are and make sure that we haven’t just yelled “context” and declared victory, whichever side we’re on.

    How does the theological context apply?

    Well, first, we have the issue of individual versus community application. The church in America tends to be very individualistic. It’s fashionable in certain circles, to lay heavy emphasis on the community in order to counter that trend. I’m in those circles. I think we need to revive the idea of community in the church. It’s not about me, it’s about the body of Christ as a whole.

    But there’s a tension in scripture and in theology on this very point. The church is a community, but the community is made up of individuals. So you have things that apply to individuals somehow. As I study Hebrews with my Sunday School class right now it’s interesting to see the tension between remembering the leaders (13:7), and everyone having boldness going before God, between the examples of faith, all individuals (11), and the great cloud of witnesses (12:1ff).

    When someone today says to remember the leaders of my church, I can point out that I can move down the street and find other leaders. That’s actually a sad thing, that disunity in the church, yet it’s true, and unless you’re prepared to argue that every church’s leaders are truly following God, then there is room for me, as an individual to make a choice. In fact, I must make a choice.

    So there is a tension here as well. It’s good to realize that Jeremiah 29:11 was first spoken to a specific community and that there was a specific fulfilment of this text to that community. That is important. As Thomas Turner points out, it’s a promise of the kingdom of God as well, and that’s important too.

    But for the individual looking at a major life choice, the most important thing to get out of this verse may well be that God has a plan for him or her at that moment. The choice of the right college, the right job, or the right spouse may be the most important kingdom thing right then for that individual who is a member of the community of believers.

    And in that very community that we want to celebrate, for which God has great plans, this text has come to mean more than just the good of the big group in the by and by. It has come to mean that, as “Abraham’s seed” I can now hear God speaking to me (Galatians 3:29), and that this individual application may be precisely what I need to hear.

    We often act as though God has to pay more attention to the big things (like the triumph of the Kingdom at the end) than to the little things (where will I go to college?). But God doesn’t have limited attention so that he needs to prioritize. He can give full attention to both issues, along with billions more.

    Just like those boiled down, compact rules of hermeneutics, the community has boiled down Jeremiah 29:11 and presented it as a compact promise. It’s a usage I find entirely appropriate.

  • Ephesians 2: The Radical Nature of the Gospel

    As I’ve been reading this passage repeatedly this week, I have been repeatedly struck by the radical nature of what Paul is saying here. I’m surprised we don’t spend more time on it, because it seems to me to clarify many things that are left unclear in Galatians and Romans.

    Of course, considering the discussion of authorship, if one thinks Paul did not write the letter, one would hardly go there for a clear statement of Paul’s view. I think a similar corrective would be provided if one added the undoubtedly genuine 1 & 2 Corinthians to the mix when one wants to determine Paul’s theology.

    In the meantime, however, Ephesians 2 remains radical. There are two ways in which this impressed me.

    1) Contrary to what many modern readers imagine, the gospel message of grace received through faith does not treat works negatively, provided they are in their proper place. If I walk a couple of miles a day with a view to reaching Australia, I will likely be disappointed. There’s an ocean between here and there, and I keep winding up at my starting point. If I do the same thing for exercise, however, it’s a good thing.

    Works done to earn God’s favor are destined to fail. Since all that we do is by definition a result of God’s gift to us (of life, before salvation), we can’t actually create something that God needs in order to make God owe us something. But to fail to attempt good works, however imperfectly we may accomplish our mission, after we have received God’s grace, is not only ungrateful, it is a rejection of the gift. The gift of grace makes good works possible.

    For by grace you are saved through faith. Yet this is not from you. It is God’s gift. It’s not from works, so nobody can boast. For his creation is what you are, created in Christ Jesus for good works, so you can walk in them (2:8-10).

    I also note that the exclusion of boasting as a reason why works are not the source of our salvation also excludes an intellectual sense of achievement in grasping and accepting the gospel. We are also not saved through intellectually comprehending the theology of salvation. We are not better than the person who cannot comprehend the theology.

    2) This radical gospel could not have been produced using a modern hermeneutic. It must add to, and in some cases transform, what came before. I do not mean to suggest that Judaism was a graceless religion. I think it was filled with grace. I think the transformation is rooted in the Torah and developed in its early stages by the prophets.

    But that entire process required just that—a process. God’s message came at various times and at various places before God finally spoke to us through God’s Son (Hebrews 1:1-3). Is there a more profound way for God to speak than through the incarnation? I don’t think so. But there is the possibility that we will more and more deeply understand the implications of God’s message.

    In the face of this radical gospel, our hermeneutic of God’s entire revelation is often not radical enough to let us hear God calling us ever deeper.

    I apply this idea to my previous note on egalitarian and complementarian texts. Rather than seeking a filter for those commands that are eternal and those that are temporal (and I suggest that all commands are both eternal and temporal; always given for a time and place, always deriving their force from an eternal principle), we need to be asking how God’s revelation should continue transform our natures and attitudes, both individually and as Christ’s body.

    I think this is the failure both of many of us (definitely including myself) and of much of  the 21st century American church.

     

  • Adrian Warnock – List of Complentarian and Egalitarian Texts

    Adrian Warnock has produced a list of texts that speak to the complementarian/egalitarian debate. Having looked over the list I don’t think it’s all that bad. In fact, it includes a number of key texts and stories that I would have included in any such list—had I been inclined to create one.

    The problem is that I don’t think this, or any issue, can be resolved by doing exegesis on a list of texts, much as I’d prefer that sort of a simple (simplistic) approach. The Bible just doesn’t seem to work that way. What generally results is a process of building one’s theology on one portion of the list and explaining the rest away. We have women speaking and not speaking. We have women leading and not leading.

    What’s needed is to form a theology based on scripture (and a hermeneutic capable of arriving at such a theology), and then ask what that theology says about the place of women (and men) in the church here and now. Getting to the root of things can resolve issues of time, place and context.

    There was no list of texts that made the church change its approach to gentiles in Acts 15. Oh, there were texts. But what really changed the day was God acting through the church. The scriptural fundamentalists of the day would have taken a list of texts, and said “no.”

    Come to think of it, that’s precisely what they did.

  • Biblical vs. Unbiblical

    Morgan Guyton has a very strong (and, in my view, entirely justified) reaction to the abuse of the term “biblical.”

    … In how many other “Bible” churches out there has “Biblical” become a code-word for an ideological platform that serves a purpose completely foreign to God’s mission but cherry-picks verses out of the Biblical text to justify itself?

    Good question! (Of course, his question follows an example.)

    Nonetheless I want to sound another warning: Let’s watch out about the abuse of the word “unbiblical” as well.

    Declaring something unbiblical also requires a view on what the Bible does and does not require, but instead of declaring a particular view in bounds, it declares it out of bounds. It can be abused in the same way. The word “biblical” is a positive adjective which tends to lead people to accept a statement, even if it has no biblical warrant. “Unbiblical” is a negative adjective (in most churches) which tends to make people reject an idea, even without biblical warrant.

    So am I saying one can never use the adjective “biblical?” No. What I am suggesting is that many of us use it, and its opposite, too much. We use it as a sort of shorthand for “you ought to believe this” (or not), rather than as a statement backed by the appropriate study and research.

    Instead, I suggest that we skip the adjective and do the work. If you provide a sound backing from the Bible, appropriately interpreted, for what you say, others can apply the adjective “biblical” to it. If not, well, not so much!

  • Hermeneutical Self-Awareness

    Pete Enns has an interesting article on Cain and Abel on the BioLogos Science and the Sacred web site. As interesting as it is–and I commend the discussion–I was most struck by the final paragraph:

    Pondering these sorts of questions leads to “hermeneutical self-awareness.” Such self-awareness may not lead to the final word about a passage, but it does lead to true humility in interpretation and an encouragement to unity among Christians where they might differ on matters of interpretation.

    That’s an excellent phrase: hermenutical self-awareness. I think we are often much too little aware of how it is we come to particular interpretations. One valuable way to build such awareness is by looking at a variety of attempts to interpret a passage, as Enns does in this post.

  • Adrian Warnock on the Doctrine of Scripture

    And as you might expect, I’m disagreeing with him. In introducing a post urging people to read Wayne Grudem’s Systematic Theology (not a bad idea), he says:

    There is no more foundational subject than the doctrine of Scripture. All the current theological arguments that are causing such disruption in the Church today stem from a lack of confidence in the authority of Scripture. …

    Now the first part of that statement is pretty obvious and quite foundational. I don’t think we can be Christian and talk about being Christian without dealing with the doctrine of scripture. However far you may end up away from regarding scripture as foundational, you’re going to have to deal with this doctrine.

    As it happens, I believe that scripture is foundational, and whatever we believe must be rooted in it. Not only our doctrine of scripture, but also our hermeneutic that is derived from that basic doctrine is critical in how we will understand and live our faith. I would like to see us discuss this more.

    But the second sentence is quite problematic, and I think represents one of the greatest barriers to sound dialog within orthodox Christianity today. Let me quote it again:

    All the current theological arguments that are causing such disruption in the Church today stem from a lack of confidence in the authority of Scripture.

    Um, not so much. Now there are people who lack confidence in scripture, and this can lead them to many odd views, views which fall outside of reasonable definitions of the bounds of Christianity. There are also people who express (at least) great confidence in scripture but who show no great ability to actually discover what it’s saying.

    Yes, there are certain disputes which results from differences in various people’s confidence in scripture, but I don’t think they are the major ones, and I especially don’t think they are the bulk of those that are debated within orthodox Christianity.

    Let’s illustrate with a point I’ve debated (indirectly via blog post) with Adrian before, penal substitutionary atonement. For Adrian, nothing less than viewing penal substitution as the meaning of atonement is adequate.

    I believe that penal substitution does occur in scripture, but that it is one of a number of metaphors, all of which are required for an understanding of the atonement. I believe this, not because I lack confidence in scripture, but because I am confident that a full scriptural understanding of the atonement requires much more than penal substitution. Like every other finite description, using penal substitution exclusively or even to diminish other views, especially in my view christus victor, diminishes our understanding of the atonement.

    From the evidence of reading Adrian’s blogging over several years, I’m certain that penal substitution is a “current theological argument” and is “causing disruption” and thus I must exclude it from any list of those based on a lack of confidence in scripture.

    I think I made my best statement on this in my post from last Easter, Atonement: The Error Adrian Warnock and Giles Fraser Share.

    I see a similar type of issue in the debates over creation and evolution and certain major figures in reformed Old Testament studies, such as Peter Enns, Bruce Waltke, and Tremper Longman. I think it would be ridiculous to assert that these three men lack confidence in scripture, yet they are in the middle of a theological controversy. The difference is not confidence but the way in which they understand scripture.

    In connection with this I appreciated Jeremy Pierce’s recent post, Arguments Against Old Earth, in which he reclaims the term “creationism” for any set of beliefs that God created the universe. I am a creationist, because I believe in God the creator. I do want to debate a bit about Jeremy’s categories, though they are really quite good. That’s for another post.

    In summary I would say that the problem in most theological debates within Christianity is not confidence but understanding. There is an element here where one’s hermeneutics make the decision, but in a number of cases, such as understanding 2 Corinthians 5 an imputed righteousness, I think often the hermeneutics are similar, but the application is different. Confidence, however, is not part of the problem.

    (Note: I have not yet read, but I do intend to read Adrian’s book Raised with Christ: How the Resurrection Changes Everything.)

  • Interpreting the Bible VIII: Biblical Literalism, Attitude, and Avoidance

    This is a continuation of my series on interpreting the Bible. The first post in the series is Interpreting the Bible I: Obvious Exegesis, while the most recent one was Interpreting the Bible VII: Christians Contribute to Confusion.

    As a reminder, my starting point was a number of comments that suggested that those who take the Bible less literally are thereby less serious Christians. These suggestions were not coming from conservative Christians, but from non-Christians. In some cases, I question the motivation of such suggestions. I believe that Richard Dawkins, for example, prefers to debate hard-line fundamentalists, and so would like to dismiss the rest of us from the Christian faith.

    What I believe I have done so far is to show that interpreting the Bible, broadly called hermeneutics, is a bit more complex than these folks would like, and that just taking the Bible literally, as best as I can understand what they mean by “literally,” is not the way Christians have read the Bible historically. I have further noted that even basic exegesis, which I define as looking for the text as it was intended to be understood by the original audience, is more complex than these folks let on.

    Those who are eagerly waiting for me to solve issues such as the violent passages in the Bible or gay and lesbian marriage will still have to wait. While I will discuss those issues, my primary purpose here is to look at the method. I believe that our discussions of the Bible would be much more profitable if we would simply think and talk more about how we come to our understanding, rather than simply trying to defend that understanding. Two people may mean very different things by saying that a concept is “Biblical.”

    Let me reiterate here, as I believe has been demonstrated previously with the help of commenters, that the issues I’m discussing do not hinge on belief in inerrancy. Belief that the Bible is inerrant does not limit one with reference to determining what type of literature a particular passage is.

    I want to clarify this further by using a couple of examples. Two controversial books amongst conservatives are Jonah and Job. There are quite a number of people, even conservatives, who will claim that these books are fiction. To make that claim doesn’t mean that the books contain error. Rather, it means that they intentionally present whatever it is they present in fictional form. Now there are those who regard fiction itself as evil, but that is a different argument.

    Let’s say you have a historical novel, written with the intent of accurately portraying a certain place and time in history, but doing so using fictional characters in a fictional narrative. What would constitute an error? Well, if one introduced an historical event connecting to the story, and placed this event at the wrong time, it might be an error. Suppose one had an historical building, and it didn’t exist at the time in question. That might be an error as well.

    The key in all of these points would be the author’s intent. Such an author might well introduce a house or a small street that was not historical, but wouldn’t presumably introduce a new city hall. There are things that the historical novel wishes to convey that are facts, and there is a story to be enjoyed along the way. Similarly, C. S. Lewis is not in error in the Screwtape Letters if there is no demon named Screwtape, nor is he in error in the Chronicles of Narnia if there is no Narnia.

    I find this comparison to be of interest in the books of Jonah and Job, because I think we often get to argument about little houses and back streets in the story, while missing the big things.

    In Jonah, I frequently hear discussions of two major issues: First, was Jonah really swallowed by a “great fish” or a “whale”? Second, was Nineveh really so big it would take three days to walk across it. (Those who know some Hebrew may laugh a bit at the particular rendering there–I’m using the form in which I normally hear the question.) But are those really the questions?

    I would suggest several themes in the book of Jonah:

    1. God can call you to uncomfortable places and missions on which you would rather not go.
    2. Even when you’re going the other direction, God is likely to take note.
    3. Intervention may be uncomfortable–note how Jonah ends up on shore.
    4. God offers repentance even to people I may hate.
    5. God is gracious and merciful, even to the worst of sinners.

    … and a few more, none of which are really impacted by whether the story is fictional. All of these points have annoyed someone at some time, and indeed according to the story, they annoyed Jonah, and presumably were controversial amongst the readers of the book. I am not here trying to argue these points. I’m simply saying that finding fiction in the Bible is not the same thing as finding error.

    I consider Job even more interesting. If the book is historical, then we have an individual who suffered because God allowed him to be attacked and tormented. This may, of course, be extended by analogy or in principle to others. On the other hand, if the story is fictional, then one would have to assume that Job is presented as a type of sufferer, and that it is quite possible that God might call on me–or you–to suffer to make a demonstration for him. Are you concerned that bad things seem to happen to good and bad people alike? Here are some bad things that happen specifically to good people.

    Now you can get that second idea while reading Job as historical, though I have heard some folks argue that this is something that happened only once (they forget about Jesus, apparently), but I think that if you read it as a fictional account, you are forced to the conclusion that it applies broadly in principle–God’s servants may be called to suffer in the fight against evil, and they may never know just why. Note that Job never receives an explanation of his suffering.

    So you note here that the issue is not whether the text is in error or not, or whether one takes it literally or not, but rather just what are the literary characteristics, what is meant by them, and just how that might apply. If I could delete one statement from the vocabulary of Christian conservatives it would be: “I take the Bible literally.” If I could delete one statement from the vocabulary of liberal Christians: “I don’t take the Bible that literally.” Both are misleading. (As I note in my review of his book How to Study the Bible for Yourself, Tim LaHaye makes this his first rule of hermeneutics. Needless to say, I disagree; in fact, I regard it as one of the worst rules.)

    If I might pound this point into the ground a bit, some interpreters, including LaHaye, have applied this to the book of Revelation. But just what should one take “literally” in the book of Revelation? Personally, I tend to take the introduction quite literally when it uses a variety of literary indicators to show that John saw a vision. Once we’re in a vision, I take things as a vision, which may have varying degrees of attachment to physical things, and I believe that is the correct way to take them. Even where there are likely literal connections, such as with the churches, or with a number of symbols, the vision context warns us to look for more than meets the eye. Revelation 12 & 13, for example, while containing symbols that may be attached to specifics, also provide a very good general appreciation of the battle between good and evil, and numerous principles for living in the midst of such a battle. The literal/non-literal dichotomy is terribly inadequate to the task of understanding such a passage.

    Some may be wondering how one would take the vision framework non-literally. There are many commentators who would treat the “vision” as a literary device used to present a set of symbols. It is quite possible to understand it in that way, though I disagree. In fact, I think assuming an ecstatic state, in vision, for some of the writing of Revelation will explain some literary and linguistic peculiarities, but that is a completely different topic.

    Now I would maintain that conservatives, liberals, and those between are all susceptible to coming up with ad hoc interpretations that allow one to avoid the impact of a text, or to make a text have an inappropriate impact. Let me start with a controversial one.

    Leviticus 18:22 is commonly presented as a text demonstrating that homosexuality is sin and unacceptable. (Note that “I don’t take it that literally” doesn’t seem to work here. It’s pretty literal.) I like to present people with Leviticus 19:33-34, which says to treat an alien living among you as one of your own citizen. Now I’m not arguing what applies here and what doesn’t. Both are literal commands given in the same general body of law. A valid approach would be to ask just how commands given to Israel in Leviticus apply to others.

    But avoiding all of those issues, it’s very interesting to watch people’s responses to this connection. First, it is almost universally assumed that simply because I present Leviticus 19:33-34 I believe that Leviticus 18:22 is not applicable. Liberal audiences often assume that because they want to; conservative audiences assume that because they can’t imagine why I would present them with such an alternative text if it isn’t to undermine the impact of the first text.

    But the real question here is why and how either text should apply. I would suggest that there are similar tasks of interpretation and application that need to be used in both cases. In actuality, however, with most lay audiences I find that these two texts apply according to cultural inclinations. Those who favor gay and lesbian inclusion exclude 18:22 and very often the same people are delighted to include 19:33-34. Those who oppose homosexuality accept 18:22 as applicable, but will explain that 19:33-34 was for a different time and place.

    I would suggest that the processes of interpretation and application for both are complex, and that in neither case is the best approach simply trying to interpret the individual text. If your question is how should our nation treat aliens residing in the country, I doubt you will find clear direction as to what the law should be. If the question is how you, as an individual Christian, should treat aliens, I think you will find many scriptures that you can group together in finding the proper principles to guide your behavior. Similarly with homosexuality, I think the approach that says, essentially, “How many texts are there that forbid homosexual acts, and how can I (or can I not) explain them,” is precisely the wrong approach. A better approach to any question is to try to discover God’s ideal, and then look at how we might approach that.

    To continue with my examples, however, let me look at another passage:

    32Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. 33With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. 34There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. 35They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need. — Acts 4:32-35

    Here again you have a verse that can split interpreters right in the middle! Out of the characteristics of the early church just what are we supposed to apply today. Many of my more liberal brethren are pretty happy with the common ownership thing, and there being nobody in need in the church. They will take various attitudes toward the rest, such as whether this should be done entirely by the church, testimony to the resurrection, and so forth. There are many who would make Christianity a matter of the distribution of wealth, without any regard for the testimony to the resurrection.

    On the other hand, I can cite my own uncle, Don F. Neufeld, an interpreter in the Seventh-day Adventist Church, associate editor of the SDA Bible Commentary and editor of the SDA Bible Dictionary. In a personal conversation he was quick to point out to me that this practice was quickly abandoned by the church and didn’t appear to be the norm in Paul’s congregations, for example. This strikes me as an example of finding trajectories in scripture, something I think is quite appropriate, yet is often criticized as too subjective.

    I have heard many other explanations for common ownership, most aimed at keeping the early church from being too socialist. So here we have otherwise conservative interpreters finding the exit ramp in the middle of this verse. But liberals need not crow, because Christian unity, power, and mutual support is inextricably linked to the testimony of Jesus risen from the dead, and I think it would be difficult to build a case that the author of Luke-Acts would think it possible for it to be any other way.

    (I am aware that liberals do not necessarily deny the resurrection, though many do deny a physical resurrection. I am called liberal, and I personally accept a physcial–or bodily–resurrection. Nonetheless I believe that it is a liberal weakness to attempt to separate good works from the incarnation, and that is a weakness I see as ultimately fatal to Christianity.)

    The issue, I think, is our attitude in approaching scripture. There can be quite a variety of approaches to understanding scripture, and none of them are necessarily related to whether we take scripture seriously. What I would say characterizes a distinctly Christian approach to (Christian) scripture is the attitude of openness to correction. Each approach to interpretation can be used as a means of avoiding things I don’t like, i.e. of making scripture simply the excuse for what I wanted to do anyway.

    Liberal and conservative Christians don’t differ so much on the basic desire to avoid certain passages as on which passages they avoid and how they go about avoiding them.

    (I will continue next time by trying to look faithfully at some of the violent passages in the Old Testament. Don’t get impatient–this series will go on for a long time. Apologies to those who want a quick answer; I don’t believe in quick answers.)

  • Will We Let the Text of Scripture Change Us?

    On The Rev’s Rumbles (HT: Shuck and Jive) there is a discussion of Biblical authority. The writer quotes the following assertion favorably (from Kenneth Cauthen):

    NO CHRISTIAN ALLOWS THE BIBLE TO TEACH AS THE AUTHORITATIVE WORD OF GOD WHAT IS KNOWN OR BELIEVED (FOR WHATEVER REASONS) TO BE EITHER UNTRUE OR IMMORAL.

    EVERY CHRISTIAN FINDS WHAT THE BIBLE TEACHES AS THE AUTHORITATIVE WORD OF GOD TO BE IDENTICAL OR CONGRUENT WITH WHAT IS KNOWN OR BELIEVED (FOR WHATEVER REASONS) TO BE TRUE AND RIGHT.

    There is a great deal of truth in that statement. I can certainly observe these mechanisms in place as I discuss interpreting Bible passages. Try asking a group of Christians why they regard Leviticus 19:18 as a universal and binding command, but feel that they can ignore Leviticus 19:19, for example. There are certainly good reasons in Christian hermeneutics to do so, but those hermeneutical reasons are not the ones you are likely to hear.

    At the same time, such a statement can certainly be taken too far, whether or not it was intended by the author. (My own exposure to this particular author is limited to the quotes in this blog post, so please don’t take me as commenting on him; rather I’m commenting on the blog post that contains them and on some general approaches.) It’s easy to assume that nobody can change their impression of what is right and wrong based on their reading of a work they regard as authoritative. Such a change can be good or bad.

    It’s because of such issues that I think we should all spend time thinking about why we believe what we do, how we come to ethical decisions, and if we believe we base our decisions on the Bible, how we interpret what we read.

    I have frequently heard someone say that they do something because the Bible plainly says so, but when I point out another passage that speaks just as plainly taken at the same level of context as the first, they find a quick explanation for why it does not apply. The interesting point is to ask whether the same explanation will work for any similar scripture.

    Since one of the reasons one might reject Leviticus 19:19 while accepting Leviticus 19:18 is simply that Jesus reaffirmed Leviticus 19:18 (Love your neighbor as yourself), let me try again from Leviticus, this time with passages not so clearly affirmed (or not). Leviticus 18:22 is commonly read as forbidding homosexuality, and is used regularly by Christians as such. It is one passage regarding which I have heard the expression “the Bible plainly says.”

    When that was once quoted to me, I referenced Leviticus 19:33-34:

    Do not take advantage of foreigners who live among you in your land. Treat them like native-born Israelites, and love them as you love yourself. Remember that you were once foreigners living in the land of Egypt. I am the LORD your God. (NLTse)

    The immediate answer? “That’s different. Things are different now.”

    Now my point is not to debate just how these two texts would apply today. Rather, I would like to point out that if you quote one as “what the Bible plainly teaches” and then find reasons to avoid the other, you are not truly advocating “what the Bible plainly teaches” (an impossible task in any case), but are applying some other means of producing your result. That doesn’t mean you’re wrong on the result, but the process is not what you claim.

    I would argue that if “confirmed by Jesus” is the key, then Leviticus 19:33-34 has much better evidence of having been reaffirmed by Jesus than does Leviticus 18:22, though I actually think the “reaffirmed by Jesus” is not the best approach in any case.

    For me there’s a three step process, broadly described. The first is to ask just how I’m approaching the scripture. The second is to try to look at scriptures consistently. the third is to ask just how that might enlighten my decision making. I think God intentionally didn’t give us a working “plain meaning” model because he preferred us to go through the hard work of evaluating and making decisions.

    There is much in scripture that I believe should change me, or to be more accurate that God the Holy Spirit should use in changing me. I have to intentionally get away from using ad hoc interpretation to support my own view in order to let that happen.

  • Need for Moderate/Liberal Hermeneutics

    It is sometimes difficult to discuss scriptural issues involved in many modern debates simply because there is so little explicit liberal hermeneutic. It’s not that there is no liberal hermeneutic; it’s simply that so few people are aware of such a thing, and it’s so badly communicated to people in the pews. Moderates have succeeded in producing something they can use with varying degrees of success, but often this is simply exceptions made to the fundamentalist or conservative evangelical hermeneutics we encounter.

    The problem, I think, results from simply telling people not to take the Bible so literally. In many churches, “literal” and “true” have become almost synonymous, and this statements sounds like saying not to take the Bible so seriously. Mainliners end up hanging between Biblical literalists on the one hand, and critical Biblical scholarship on the other, and are uncertain just what to do with scripture. Now I have no problem with critical methodology, but it has a major limitation. Once you’re done discussing the prehistory and history of the text in great deal, just what are you going to do about it?

    This is where many of us fall flat in communicating what we’re doing. The Bible is important to me, but why is that so, and how do I manage to communicate that importance to others? More importantly, just what role does the Bible play in my life, and specifically in the way I answer life’s questions? It cannot play the same role as it plays in the life of a fundamentalist who is looking for specific commands in specific verses. That’s not the way I study or understand it.

    To get a bit more specific, I am frequently asked about Genesis. How can I possible be a theistic evolutionist and still believe the Bible? Is what I practice “Biblical” Christianity?”

    Let’s start with the term “Biblical.” I believe it is horribly abused as an adjective. One cannot answer the question of whether something is Biblical or not without establishing an interpretive framework–a hermeneutic if you please. Thus if someone asks me whether my views are “Biblical” or not, and they are dispensationalist, odds are that I will not appear Biblical to them. Frankly, were I as tense as they are, they would not appear Biblical to me, simply because I see dispensationalism as something imposed on the text from the outside without adequate justification. From my perspective, I’m quite Biblical, but to the dispensationalist, who does believe that dispensationalism is Biblical, and the appropriate way to understand the Bible, I don’t look much like it.

    In response to the question about Genesis and theistic evolution, I don’t see any problem at all, because I simply do not see Genesis as narrative history, or any other form of literature that would make be believe that the events it narrates are historical. Thus I’m reading Genesis differently because of the type of literature it is. If I respond to this question by saying, “I don’t take Genesis literally,” then I really haven’t given much information. There are few literal interpretations that will work, but many non-literal. I have to be more specific.

    So I would say that in order to interpret any piece of ancient literature correctly, you need to find out what type of literature it was, and hopefully what types of questions it was intended to answer, and then read it in that light. In the case of Genesis 1-11, we have largely the language of an origin myth, and these were written in the ancient near east not to preserved historical fact but to establish social order and legitimize governments.

    Today I’m just going to make a few remarks about my view of hermeneutics. I may blog further on individual elements. I believe liberals and moderates need to be more clear about the way in which we get from text to action. If the Bible is important in my life, in what way is it important? How does it change the way I would otherwise act. Obviously I’m not talking simple exegesis here. It is not sufficient to determine what Paul meant to his first audience, but also to determine just how that can be applied in life now.

    My understanding starts with seeing the Biblical literature as the result of a community living their faith. This doesn’t exclude divine inspiration, but divine inspiration operates amongst real people at a specific time and place. Communication with these people must occur in a way that they can understand. Since the literature results from a faith community, the way it is received and created and the way the community handles and transmits it become relevant to understanding it. If the Pentateuch is built from sources that grew up over centuries, I think this is significant. It tells us something about God and the way he works just as the actual text does.

    A corollary to this is that I do not take God’s knowledge or God’s context as the basis for understanding the literature. If it was communicated to and in a community, it lived in that community and was understood by that community. I don’t believe they had a God’s eye view, and I know I don’t.

    But the understanding of that community may not be of value to me today. For example, I believe the community that heard the stories of Genesis first was comfortable with a flat earth, round like a dinner plate, with the dome of the sky above it. That was their cosmology. I know better. Later generations may improve on my understanding. I do not suddenly reread the stories from my new perspective (without other necessary adjustments), on the basis that God already knew the earth was spherical.

    Since the Bible was produced in and by a community, I am also interested in the continuity of community from that time to this, such as it is. In this way I keep connection and continuity in a changing world. I also bring in tradition in this way.

    At the same time I recognize that I understand this through my own experiences, and that my connections to my modern community, especially my spiritual community (a United Methodist congregation) provide a framework in which I understand it. There are, however, ways other than revelation from which I get knowledge, and these are added in as well, by means of science.

    Finally there are two elements that I believe work closely together. First is reason (also part of the Wesleyan Quadrilateral which some may recognize here in parts), which doesn’t seem to me to be a separate source of knowledge but rather the means by which we comprehend all the rest. Some Christians disdain reason, but you will form doctrines using your reason in any case. The only question is how well you do this. The second of these two elements is the Holy Spirit, guiding us into all truth. I think the Holy Spirit is more active than we often believe, and I think we need to be open to continuing guidance.

    The result of this is often nothing at all like what a fundamentalist or conservative evangelical would get from the text. Yet in order to understand that difference we have to look at how we interpret and apply what what we read.

    I hope to discuss these elements some more. This is such a brief look. As I said there is a great deal of quite good moderate and liberal hermeneutics out there. It just doesn’t seem to filter down to the pews as well as I would like.