Category: Hermeneutics Page 3 of 4

Lutheran exegesis

On March 25, 2017

The attributes of God the son are shared with the human nature continually and yet somehow the human nature remains ontologically human. A short example of hermeneutics gone wrong from a recent paper I wrote on confessional materiels in the Lutheran church. There is a failure here to realize that if a certain understanding of a passage leads you to strained reasoning about the natures of Christ, it might be better to go back and re-look at other possibilities for your exegesis.

Here is the segment:

The Lutheran case is much more subtle. There is much to commend about it. They are determined to the hold to the unity of the two persons of Christ. I appreciate their commitment to the term Theotokos, that is, Mary was the God-bearer. Further, I appreciate their commitment to the fact that the Son of God suffered in the flesh. This, of course, should be tempered by an understanding that this suffering is not ontological, but relational.

The great problem is in their understanding of the communicato idiomatum. The communicatio idiomatum is the sharing of the attributes of the persons with one another. In this way, the Son can exercise the omnipresence, omniscience, and omnipotence of God. They are careful, however, to say that this is limited. They reject that the human nature is present everywhere in the same way the divine nature is present. But they affirm shared attributes. God the Son shares his attributes with his human nature in a static, undefined way. Part of the source of this problem is that the Lutherans want a unity in the nature of Christ; that somehow the divine nature in the Son of God became human flesh. It would be better to say, the person of the Son of God took on human flesh.

They also misunderstand the reformed understanding of the communication idiomatum. The reformed do believe that the divine nature shares attributes with the human nature. This is, however, done through the Spirit. Thus attributes are given are given to the son at certain points during his life, so that he can discern the minds of men and be aware of the future, but they are not shared in a static continual sense.

The Lutheran understanding, though thankfully not changing the essence of the son, seems to affirm the static, continual sense of the communication idiomatum. In this way, the Lutherans do not leave room for a maturing Jesus. They also end up with an apparent contradiction.The attributes of God the son are shared with the human nature continually and yet somehow the human nature remains ontologically human.

The ultimate problem, however, lies with the source of this document. The Lutherans want to affirm the physical presence of Christ at the table because of his words, “This is my body.” If this were a necessary interpretation of that phrase, the Lutherans would be right to come to their convoluted understanding of the natures of Christ. We would have to affirm that there is something mysterious going on here. If, however, there were an alternate understanding of that text that did not lead to the strained reasoning they have in this passage, it might be better to take that understanding. This would lead to an understanding of the two natures that would be less prone to losing the real humanity Christ, even as he rules in heaven today. What goes on at the Lord’s Supper is still a mystery, of course. How does the Spirit cause us to ascend into the throne room of Christ? What does it mean that we eat of Christ’s flesh? With a spiritual understanding of “This is my body” we can admit this mystery, and further, the mystery of the incarnation, without losing sight of the full humanity of Christ.

Is Theology the Queen of the Sciences?

By James

On March 18, 2017

In Hermeneutics, The Basics

The answer to the question might seem obvious to a bible-believing Christian. Yes, theology is the Queen of the sciences. The Bible is authoritative over every area of life, therefore the theology, which comes from the bible, is also over every area of life. However, the question answer is not quite so simple. Does that mean theologians can start telling scientists how to do science?

One way to understand the question is to argue that the bible is authoritative over every area of life, but theology, a scientific discipline in its own right, should not be exalted over the others. We look at the question this way: The bible is over everything. The bible is the King. Every science is equally subject to the bible and equally authoritative in its own field. The representatives of the various sciences will have a conversation as equals.

I would disagree. I believe, as was argued in the beginning, that theology proceeds from scripture and therefore theology functions as the queen of the sciences. Theology is the study of foundations as revealed in scripture. These are foundations for every area of study. This does not mean there is no room for conversation between Theology and other disciplines. This is necessary because Theologians may get something wrong in its understanding of scripture and may be corrected through another disciple. Theology through discussing a matter with the Science of Archeology, for example, may receive a deeper understanding of scripture.

What about the problem of theologians, who think they can inform members of other disciplines how to their work? We need to make an important distinction here between the experts and the discipline itself. The discipline itself doesn’t claim to teach methodology to other disciplines. It only claims an understanding of the significance of other disciplines. It gives answers to the deepest questions that all other disciplines must answer in order exist. Further, like every other discipline, theology does not belong to a special group of people. It belongs to all people. There are those who can claim greater expertise or greater knowledge in theology, but every person will have a bit of the theologian in them. Individual persons may misuse the discipline for their own ends, arguing that their conclusions should have primacy. When theology is the queen of the sciences that does not make her courtiers (theologians), supreme lords over the other sciences.

Are Christians idealists?

By James

On March 4, 2017

In Hermeneutics, History

When people get down to the business of deciding what to do, a divide tends to reveal itself. This is the divide between the realist and the idealist. The hard-headed realist is ready to do what’s necessary for the sake of his friends and family. He will choose the pragmatic option. He hold to the dictum, “the ends justify the means.” The idealist appeals to high-minded principles. It would seem that Christians are idealists because Christians desire to see real justice and real mercy in the world around us. Are we really just fighting for our ideals though? Are we pursuing a false Utopia?

I would argue that idealism and realism come together in Christ. Christ exemplified the ideal kingdom, that is, the kingdom of perfect righteousness that people long for and at the same time he lived in the harsh realism of this world. Christ was real. He walked and ate and drank. Christ showed the world that the kingdom of righteousness was something that was real and that it was something that was exemplified in his very real life. Christian idealism is historical, which means that it is not based on an idea but on a person. As Christians, we are fighting for the justice and mercy of that kingdom.

As people, however, we all live in really messed up situations. Is High-minded idealism really the right option for these situations? How do we combine our idealism with realism so that it is actually successful? Once again, Christ is the one who shows us how to cross this impasse. We cross it through our willingness to suffer. Through suffering, Christ showed the world that somebody could live according to their ideals. Now Christ was not living according to ideals but to the words of his Father in heaven. In particular, Christ suffered through his patience. He was constant in his patience toward his disciples, who had not fully grasped their calling to live for the sake of the kingdom of God.

Christians are realists in so far as they are patient with their brothers and sisters in Christ, as well as all their neighbors, as these fail in living according to the love and mercy of the kingdom. Christians are idealists, not in that they serve an idea, but in that they serve a person who exemplified the virtues fo the kingdom of God. This does not mean there are no hard choices. It does mean that we are willing to suffer for making the better choice.

Do You Believe in Progress?

By James

On February 18, 2017

In Hermeneutics, History

Is there a movement to history? Is the history of man a smooth journey to happiness and flourishing? Or is it bound to end in failure? How does history work? It’s hard to talk about the philosophy of history without talking about Hegel. Hegel thought that history was the self-realization of the spirit. This self-realization was defined by the struggle between a thesis (let’s say the work of priests and rituals; it could be anything) an antithesis (Let’s say philosophy and writing). The struggle would result in synthesis, meaning the problems between those two groups had been solved.

His work gave birth to the discipline of philosophical history. Obviously, most of the people who listened to him didn’t believe that he had actually discovered the final truth. This was a discipline that tried to find principles for how history works. I want to explore some versions of philosophical history that are popular today or have been popular in the recent past. I want to suggest a Christian response with a Christian understanding of philosophical history. You might say, a Christian understanding of progress.

Popular understandings of progress.

While Hegel popularized idealist history, very few people have a similar understanding today. Idealist history focusses on the knowledge of spirit. philosophical history today is much more materialist. Materialist history focusses on the struggle between classes or between man and nature, not so much on ideas. It is good to know that there is a difference here, but it will not be important for the rest of our paper.

Many, maybe most, people today would unthinkingly hold to the “whig theory of history.” This is the idea that things will slowly and naturally progress throughout history. People will become more peaceful and open-minded. Innovations will continue to progress: slowly but surely raising the standard of living. New knowledge will be continually superseding old knowledge.

Contemporary activists, whether they fight for LGBT rights or women’s rights, hold to a similar understanding. They are, however, much more revolutionary in their methods. In the mind of these activists, the highest good is egalitarianism and the greatest enemy of the good life is exlusivism. They seem to believe that society will continually become more open to those that are different than themselves. We have seen huge strides against racism directed against African Americans; they want to see it again through their fight for other minorities.

Personal theories of progress

Like the egalitarians, Marx also saw revolution as a means toward the end of happiness. He argued for violent revolution. Marx saw the goal as the happy life of each person “working according to his ability and receiving according to his need.” In Marx’s mind, the thing that stood in the way was “property rights.”

It may initially seem funny to compare a libertarian like Rothbard with Marx. Rothbard is a defender of property-rights. But he himself sees a similarity in that he is fighting against the oppressive class. There is an oppressive class and an oppressed class. Rothbard is fighting against the old order of Europe Marx may be wrong on economic theory. He may be wrong on his use of the apparatus of the state in order to bring about revolution, but he sees the importance of revolution against the oppressing class. For Murray Rothbard, the ultimate goal is liberty, while the obstacle to that goal is the oppressor. The way forward is in continually standing against the tyrants of the day.

Christians and progress

In a way, Murray Rothbard comes the closest to what we might call a Christian view of progress. In the scriptures, there is a strong sense that we are moving toward liberty. The old order (in this case the order before Christ), is not necessarily evil, but it is something that we have grown out of. We can think of Paul in Galatians 4, speaking of the children of the Jerusalem above who were under a tutor at one point and now have grown up.

There is an evil old order as well. It lives alongside the other old order, which is the law. This is the the oppression of sin and death. It is the rule of what Augustine might call the libido dominandi, that is, the desire for power. That means that the desire to oppress men is in all of us. Christ brough about salvation by humbling the libido dominandi.

How does this apply politically? Christians understand that all men need to be delivered from that sin and death and that it begins with their own deliverance. Once delivered they need to keep putting to death their desire for power. Christ taught us how to attack that desire for power in ourselves and in others. Christ humbled himself. He took the same advice he gave his disciples in Matthew 18. He accounted himself as humble, just like a small child. Through humility, we undermine the structures of power by beginning with ourselves.

Christians disagree with Rothbard in two areas then. We disagree that there is an old order out there. That old order is in us. That is why revolutions will often lead to something worse than that which they were attacking in the first place. It follows that we also disagree with revolutions. Revolutions don’t deal with the desire for power that is in everybody.

Christians do believe in progress. Our goal is the freedom to practice the righteousness of Christ. The problem is our own complicity in enslaving others and enslaving ourselves. The means is the humility of Christ, which can only be accomplished by trusting in Christ. Christ is the only humble man and, as the one who has been resurrected and ascended to the right hand of God, he provides the means we have to fight against our own desire to control other people.

Altars in the New Testament

By James

On February 9, 2017

In Hermeneutics

Altars are one of the most important items used in the worship of the Old Testament. How are we to apply their significance to New Testament Christians?

Allegory

In the New Testament, centered on the sacrifice of Christ, altars, the place of sacrifices, are highly significant. Ultimately, we can see every function of the altar in the person of Christ. Christ is our entrance into the heavens through his ascension. He brings us up to the mountain of God. Christ purifies us through his sacrifice so that our corrupt flesh may approach. Christ offers himself as a new food for those who enter into his courtroom. He is a new food that signifies peace between man and God. Christ also functions as a witness. He is a witness between men and God. As ministers of the gospel, we are called to present Christ crucified in our preaching (Galatians 3: 1). Christ is also a refuge to whom all can flee. Paul draws an analogy between Christ and the altar in 1 Corinthians 10: 17-18. He tells us that just as we participate in Christ through partaking of the Lord’s supper, so Israel, in a fleshly sense, participated in the altar her peace offerings (Of course if the Israelite had faith, he would ultimately be participating in Christ as well).

Tropology

Through Christ, we can apply altars to the life of those who are in him. We can appeal to Pentecost for this, where God sends his flame, his Spirit, into every believer’s heart. God brings his flames down upon men, just as he did upon altars in the Old Testament. We are the places where sacrifices are brought to God. Further support this understanding can be seen in Paul’s exhortation to be living sacrifices in Romans 12: 1 as well as Revelation 8:4 where the incense of the altar of incense is compared with the prayers of the saints. We function as altars as well. We are called to show a sacrificial spirit both in our worship and before one another.

Anagogy

We also sense a new significance to the altar as a mound of earth. The name “Adam” is related to the word for earth. We are literally mounds of earth or mounds of dust. Through the refining fire of the Spirit, we are glorified so that we become like the bronze altar and then like the golden incense altar. We follow the same pattern that the altars followed in the history of altars in the Old Testament.

Chronological Contradictions

By James

On February 1, 2017

In Genesis, Hermeneutics

“If one argues, on whatever grounds, that the long life spans of the patriarchs are impossible or that the narratives themselves report nonhistorical, secondary episodes, then clearly one cannot say anything very meaningful about either chronology or history. To reject the only data available is to reject any realistic hope of reconstructing early Hebrew history. In line with the historiographical principles followed in this book, the biblical record stands on its own merits unless there are unassailable external factors that militate against it.” (Merril 96)

For the greater part, I agree with this quote by Eugene H. Merril. I would argue that “unassailable external factors” are not really a problem. Perhaps we will find a better text of scripture at some point, but that is a matter of the biblical record itself, not “unassailable external factors.” However, he is right. We will lose history if we question the bare “facts” that are given in scripture.

Yet Merril has already undermined his own position. Concerning the genealogy from Shem to Abraham, Merril says, “Clearly, Shem preceded Abram by many more years than a strict reading will permit.” (Merril 43) He gives two reasons. The first reason: Abram lived to a good old age of 175. If he had been aware that Shem lived to 600, this would not be said. The 2nd reason is that there would not have been enough time for people to lose the fear of God. He gives these reasons so that he can question the numbers given in Genesis 11.

These are not “unassailable” external factors. In Genesis 6, God said “his days shall be 120,” usually understood to mean that man’s life will be limited to 120 years. It takes a while for this to come into effect. Abraham could have been happy for 175 years in light of this truth. Besides he could have been comparing himself to his contemporaries. Further, Moses is probably writing or editing this for an audience that doesn’t live that long anymore either. They don’t live near as long as Abraham did. They would see an Abraham that had definitely been blessed with a relatively long life.

As for the question of people losing their fear of God so quickly, this does not seem to be that uncommon in the history of God’s people. We need only think of the book of Judges, where the people repeatedly fall away every forty years or so. We can think of Adam, where the next generation is involved in fratricide.

Besides, there is evidence that the fear of God is not completely gone. Melchizedek is a God-fearer in Genesis 14. Abraham tells Abimelech “there is no fear of God in this place,” which suggests there were other places that might have had some fear of God left. Merril makes a huge assumption when he says everybody has lost the fear of God. It is an assumption based on silence, not the witness of scripture.

The greatest foolishness is that Merril has already undermined biblical chronology before he starts. He stands firm on the great ages and the events that surround the patriarchs, but he has undermined that position before he got there. He has questioned the ages given to the men of the genealogy of Genesis 11.

In Pursuit of Patterson

By James

On January 27, 2017

In Hermeneutics

I just started listening to the podcast “Patterson in Pursuit.” You can find it here.

In episode 2, he discusses the problem of consciousness with Dr. Westacott. He argues that human self-awareness is the one reason he does not hold to a merely physical explanation for existence. Patterson calls himself a reluctant Cartesian dualist. He holds to the reality of the physical world and he holds to the reality of self-consciousness but he is not sure how to connect the two.

In their discussion, the two men bring up several possibilities that might bridge consciousness and physicality. Patterson posits God as an answer. Our self-awareness suggests an awareness of something other. That “other” can help explain the very fact that we have self-awareness. The two men look back to Spinoza, who. among others, suggests a universal mind, which all selves participate in. Patterson is not satisfied with either option. In his mind, they are the philosophical version of the “Deus Ex Machina.”

I’m one of those people, who sees God as the answer. But I don’t want to end my contribution there. I think that it is particularly the doctrine of creation that helps cut through reluctant Cartesian dualism. God, who has his existence in himself, freely chose to create something other than himself. Our physicality is a gift. Consciousness is a gift. Our consciousness is a gift, which allows us to respond to the God who made us.

This helps us understand why we cannot have a comprehensive understanding of “I” without positing something other than ourselves. We are dependent beings. This reflects our lives as humans as well. We begin our lives as babies. Our parents name us. Our parents hand down traditions to us. They, along with our communities, form us before we ever begin to be self-aware. The created order around us already teaches us dependence.

This is a coherent explanation but where is the proof? The proof of creation is in the historical person of Jesus Christ. God has shown who he is in Christ and in the historical documents that teach us about Christ. It is the resurrection, in particular, which proves this. God put new life into that which has no life; he enacts a new creation. Christians look to that work of God in history as their starting point.

n.b. I’ve just started listening so I don’t know how Patterson’s beliefs develop in later episodes.

Subjective Truth

By James

On January 22, 2017

In Hermeneutics, The Basics

There is always a certain subjectivity in a response. We evaluate something through a number of pre-conceived notions. Because of these pre-conceived notions, we tend to organize the truth we receive in certain categories. Then we try to structure what we have received according to certain patterns. We test this structure through careful re-evaluation. Even though our response is based on the objective truth we have responded to, there is always an element of subjectivity.

I want to argue that this is a good thing. This is what people should be doing. It’s already part of our nature. We don’t give a bare recitation of facts or truths, rather we work them into a narrative. We do this all the time with history. A good historian doesn’t only give us a bunch of facts, he wants to tell a story with it. It should be the same for reading scripture. In fact, this should be even more true for scripture. God intends scripture to be one book. We are called to find the themes and symbols that bring scripture together.

The problem is that our subjective response is often wrong. Historians go out of their way to prove that other historians have the wrong way of interpreting history. Theologians and exegetes do the same with scripture. Now some of this is due to perspective, but many views actually contradict one another. Somebody has to be wrong. Isn’t it better to just stick to the data?

Absolutely not. If we just “stick to the data” we lose out on our ability to gain a deeper understanding of things. When we study something, we need a structure in order to understand it. The less arbitrary the structure, the better we will remember it.

We also lose the ability to gain a greater understanding of who we are. We are not the result of a set of data points we are the result of a narrative; a story. As Christians, we believe that God is writing the story of the world. Being made in the image of God, we are also storytellers. God wants us to re-tell the story of scripture. He wants us to understand history in light of that story. When we lose the desire to find a structure for that story so that we can re-tell it, we lose some of the impact of that story. We lose the ability to create a shared framework through which to understand ourselves.

Think about this in terms of typology for a moment. We can isolate the figure of David in two ways. We can either isolate him from ourselves, by looking at him as an ancient figure that has little to do with modern life. He is then a data point from scripture, that has something to do with the history of salvation. We can also isolate him from an interpretive framework of scripture, making him a nice moral story that really doesn’t have much to do with history. Or as a part of the history of salvation, we can integrate him into our understanding of the message of the whole of scripture. He becomes a type of Christ and so also a type for us.

The Bible gives us an objective beginning of both an interpretive framework for itself and for history. The beginning is the person of Christ. We often get the details wrong. We miss some data or over-emphasize a theme, but if we begin with Christ, we can be confident that we do have the basic interpretive framework of scripture and of history; that Christ is bringing sons to glory.

The Revisionist Imperative.

By James

On December 15, 2016

In Hermeneutics

Why write revisionist history? Why re-work old theological points? Hasn’t the past done a good enough job with these things? Can’t we consider anything settled? Do we need to re-invent the wheel?

The answer to these questions is both a yes and a no. There are basic things that we can consider true. We know that Alexander conquered the world in the 4th century. We know that our God is both three and one. But as time passes the significance of these truths change. This is not only because there is growth in the amount of knowledge we have, but also because of moves in emphasis. Even as an individual grows older, so society grows older.

We don’t fully understand the meaning of events in our lives until we reach the present. We know the implications of Alexander’s Hellenism. The Trinity was formulated in opposition to Arius. As the church grows, the love of the Trinity stands in opposition to the monadic gods of Deism and Islam.

We can revise our understanding, in a false way. We can revise them without a desire for the truth or a desire to learn. Revision does not mean a revision of the facts themselves. We revise out of a desire to better understand the facts. To reject the task of revision is to lose the value of the past for the present.

The scientific community provides a good example. Scientists can appreciate and value the observations of the past (in fact they could do this more often), but they know that we have grown in our understanding of what is around us. The observations are often the same, but the significance of these observations changes. The observation is more fully understood by seeking greater comprehension.

Another trans-hermeneutical principle

By James

On December 7, 2016

In Hermeneutics, The Basics

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge. (Prov. 1:7)

This has often been interpreted as an epistemological principle. We know truth because we know the Lord. Ultimately this doesn’t make sense of what we see in the world around us. People have knowledge of the truth; people have knowledge of the “works of the law” as Paul notes in Romans 2: 14 and 15. Historically the church has always taught that people may have some knowledge of God and the world through “natural law” or through the “created order;” even through the “image of God.” The fear of the Lord can only be the epistemological beginning of knowledge in a limited sense then.

Perhaps we should see this principle as a hermeneutical principle. One can only rightly interpret the world through the fear of Lord. When we approach the world from the position of trust, we can begin to rightly interpret the facts that are before us. Without the fear of the Lord, the basic instrument in the interpretation of the world is lost.