Yesterday Chris Spinks wrote a post titled, “Why Biblical Studies?” It was a response to a conversation that I have been having with Bryce Walker on that topic. Earlier this week Walker wrote a post criticizing the field of biblical studies (see “A Critique of the Field of Biblical Studies”). I responded (see “A response to a critique of the field of biblical studies.”). Walker responded to my response (see “Responding to LePort’s Response to my critique”). I responded again with some clarification (see “Another response to Bryce Walker”). In order to understand Spinks post you may want to familiarize yourself with these previous posts.
I have been enjoying this conversation. It is a good example of what Mark Goodacre recently dubbed, “horizontal” blogging (see “Vertical Blogs vs. Horizontal Blogs”). He said that vertical blogs are top-down. Often a senior scholar uses his/her blog to “to set out the issues for the broader public.” It is rare to see these types of bloggers taking the time to interact with other people’s blogs. If they do join a conversation it is with those who comment on their blog. Horizontal blogging is more community based. It allows various bloggers to use their blogs to talk with one another. I think this conversation is a good example of horizontal blogging and I hope our readers are enjoying it!
Spinks post was very helpful to me. It allowed me to see where my statements in previous posts may be misunderstood. In this post I will attempt to respond to what he wrote. Also, Walker has written a response to Spinks with which I will interact briefly at the end.
First, Spinks says that Walker and I have “drawn lines that are overly stark.” We have created a (false?) dichotomy between biblical studies as science/history and as art/contemporary interest. In other words, the one-two step from historical research to contemporary interpretation/application is not as clearly divided as we suggest. I do agree with this. When I have written on the agenda of the Society of Biblical Literature (SBL) being committed to “historicism,” it is more descriptive than prescriptive. This is why I had hoped to emphasis that I advocate a both-and hermeneutic, not an either-or.
Spinks notes that within SBL there are groups like ” Christian Theology and the Bible, Ethics and Biblical Interpretation, Theological Interpretation of Scripture, Ideological Criticism, Bible and Cultural Studies” that are concerned with contemporary interest. I am not denying that. Nor do I deny that they are valuable. I attended a “theological interpretation” section at SBL in San Francisco last year and I enjoyed it. But I do think these are “specialty items,” rather than central tenants to SBL. I do not agree with those who wish to band such meetings from SBL. That is a silly idea. But I do agree that historicism is what tends to make SBL “big tent.” If we look at groups like the Evangelical Theological Society (ETS) it is quite evident that SBL prides itself on not being committed to a theological or confessionsal emphasis.
I am thankful that Spinks noted these exceptions though. I do not want to be mistaken as undermining them or denying their relevance or place within SBL. I do think we all agree that these groups do not represent what has been central to SBL though.
Second, I do think there is some necessity for separating biblical studies from contemporary interest in some settings. As I said, I do not denounce a theological reading of Scripture. I am a Christian. I do read Matthew 28.19 as referring to “the Trinity” even if the Evangelist himself in his historical context would not have developed something as in-depth as the doctrine of the Trinity. But when I go to a SBL session where there are people who meet primarily to discuss what ancient documents mean in ancient context it would complicate matters if I decided they should hear my thoughts on contemporary applications as well. In other words, we share a broad commitment to historicism, so in that context that is what we will address. This is why I appreciate the existence of the groups Spinks mentioned because it is nice to be able to break away with people of a shared perspective to discuss other hermeneutical approaches to Scripture. Again, this is not the core of academic biblical studies though.
So to answer Spinks question, “Yes, biblical studies is broad enough.” But the center of biblical studies in the academy is particular.
Third, it is important that we state our objectives. This is part of the point I tried to make. Spinks notes this when he acknowledges my language regarding the “concern of the reader” and the “aim of the researcher.” And this is what I am saying about SBL. In general, I think the objective of most scholars who are part of SBL is to do historical/literary work. I don’t think most people worry about ethics, primarily. Yet I hate to hear someone say something as absurd as the only scientific, objective way to read the Bible is through the historical-critical method. That is a lie. There is no scientific, objective approach. All approaches have agendas. All approaches have methods dictated by their aims.
Finally, Spinks may be right that we spend too much time trying to define biblical studies. But it is better than not defining it at all. Should SBL be open to Beth Moore presenting one of her Bible studies? I am sure we’d agree that this would be a bad idea. That is not to say that Beth Moore is a bad teacher or that her materials are not useful. It is to say that to do biblical studies academically is different than merely reading the Bible.
In a post titled “And the Conversation Rolls On…” Walker gave his own response to Spinks. It was nice to have an explanation on what Walker means when he refers to something being “scientific” in its methodology. I agree that some forms of biblical studies seem to try to mimic the assured results of science. I was concerned with this language because, in part, science is not about the assurance of repeated experimentation alone. There are things like human origins that demand a lot of reconstruction based on the evidence. It may be more stable that most forms of historiography, but it can be similar. That said, I understand Walker’s point and I don’t have a problem with it.
Walker writes that, “…if [biblical] scholars are going to engage interpretation and cross over into philosophy and theology, they need better training within those fields.” I agree. I like to think about philosophical matters, but I know I am not a philosopher. Sadly, many biblical scholars do not know this. It is true that it is all too easy to move from biblical interpretation to theological/philosophical conclusions while remaining completely ignorant of how philosophers and theologians have addressed these matters. It could be said that with all the discussion around “Adam” many biblical scholars think they are scientists as well. Those of us who do our work in the field of biblical studies sometimes make the same mistake as pastors in pulpits all across the country. We think that because we can interpret the Bible we are now the local expert on science, philosophy, ethics, politics, and so forth. We are not, but it is hard to avoid being drunk on our own knowledge when so many people see the Bible as a book that does address these other disciplines.
the archives near Emmaus 
I have read most of this correspondence (between all 3 of you now)—some skimming at points—and I think this is a needed dialogue. I obviously (to Brian at least) am an advocate for so called theological exegesis, and yet of course there is a need for understanding how to relate history to revelation. I think the best way forward is to think about this—if we are going to do so as Christians—through a Christological analogy. In other words, how do the two poles of creature/Creator implicate one another (asymmetrically of course)? How can we frame this discussion in a way that does not pit history against Revelation, and vice versa; and then how would this framing lend itself to bring us beyond an impasse that works in this kind of disjunction, one from the other, biblical studies from theology? Here is how TF Torrance seeks to provide denouement between this kind of daulism:
It seems to me, and Torrance, that as Christian exegetes biblical studies and theology ought to be one in the same. There shouldn’t be even the possibility for ‘Christian exegetes’ to not study scripture but from a theological/christological vantage point. If scripture can somehow be studied simply as history, without reference to Christ (pace SBL) as the rule of faith and point/purpose and reality of scripture, then to me, this kind of biblical studies can only terminate in what ought to be called an Ebionite mode of interpretation, and not Christian (simpliciter).
Bobby
That is a difficult assertion to address. If someone argues that it is not “Christian” to read Scripture through the tools of historiography then what is one to say to that? I do appreciate theology, greatly. That said, I am far more interested in how the Gospels relate to the first century setting than I am to things like how the two natures of Christ interconnect. I am happy to remain “catholic” in my confession acknowledging that what the church has received as revelation is true, but my brain shuts down after a few hours when it comes to studying theology that I sense to be ethereal.
So maybe I am not a “teacher of the church,” but a Christian among historians, like there are Christians among plumbers and mathematicians. If I am not doing a “Christian” task, but a task as a Christian that is fine with me. If SBL is no place for “Christian exegesis” I am satisfied with being a Christian engaged in historical research. Because, to be honest, if the only “Christian exegesis” available to us is reading Scripture to find how it makes sense through the lens of Nicaea or Constantinople, as important as that may be, and as true as its endeavors, I’d rather leave that to far more competent minds because (1) I can’t give it sustained attention (even when I studied the Greek Fathers I did so because I was interested in what they believe, but I had no desire to spend my days working through a “Trinitarian theology” based on their ideas) and (2) it doesn’t seem that I would have anything to say about this type of Christian theology that has not been said by Irenaeus, or Origen, or Athanasius, or the Capadocians, or Augustine. I dabble in theology proper and philosophy for fun, but I have no interest in doing it all the time, day to day. Nor am I able.
So I am not denying that what Torrance says may be true. Maybe trying to discuss the historical Jesus in a setting like SBL is a failure from the start because it doesn’t begin with the analogy of faith. Or maybe not. But I know my interest is in the history of the time and I know that it has informed and sustained my faith (while challenging it at times). I will leave the traditional task of Christian theology to those called and gifted for such work.
Brian, as spectators, we have been enjoying your dialogue as well.
Brian (and “Bryce,” if “he” is reading comments here…pardon the quotes; they’re for fun),
A friend just brought this blogging discussion to my attention. Interesting stuff. Thanks!
Especially due to my training and interests, I think Biblical Studies should exist and also envision it as, properly, a subset of historical studies. Even when in “theology” mode I still think historical study of the Bible, early Christianity, etc., should be part of the conversation in the church.
FWIW, one can discuss the liberal arts/humanities as in line with the “sciences” without being an old-school overconfident objectivist. While doing history isn’t science in the sense of being able to recreate results and so on, it is a specialized form of critical empirical inquiry that trades in evidence, falsifiable arguments about evidence, and so on. Historians do not get to make arguments from authority, selectively choose to privilege some sources over others for whatever religious, political, or ethical reason without giving an argument that can be criticized. Also, precisely because biblical studies is a form of empirical (or “scientific”) historical inquiry, it isn’t about making absolute certainty kinds of claims. Communal critical empirical study means that all conclusions remain up for criticism in light of new arguments about old and new evidence. It also means that analysis of the social locations, interests, inherited practices, and so on, of practitioners of historical inquiry is relevant to the discussion — because the practice of communal specialized empirical inquiry is itself a socially located practice performed by people in specific social contexts, and so on. My point is (and I assume I’m preaching to the choir) that claims about biblical studies being a form of empirical inquiry that can, in principle, lead to ever more accurate understandings of the Bible, its early producers and consumers, etc., aren’t also necessarily old-school over confident assured objectivist claims about Biblical Studies that assert the irrelevance of the social locations, interests, and so on of the interpreters.
In my experience, it’s ironically some of the proponents of “theological interpretation” (which I also have no problem with in general), who talk about the problems of objectivist flawed historical study, who trade most in (functionally) absolute certainty kinds of claims. Often times their criticisms of biblical studies seem to function to disallow readings of the Bible in the church that would potentially problematize traditional theological positions and narratives about “the” early church. To be clear, I’m not saying this is the agenda of all “theological interpretation” folks who make criticisms similar to Walker’s, but this seems relevant to the discussion — especially if we are all wanting to be self-reflective about our interests, presuppositions, and so on.
One final point, bringing historical studies in line with the sciences also allows for deeper levels of explanation. Many scholars are writing about this now, advocating what is commonly termed “consilience.” Edward Slingerland’s recent book offers a helpful introduction to this kind of work: What Science Offers the Humanities: Integrating Body and Culture.
Brian,
I don’t have any problem with your interest in the ‘time’; I understand your interest, in fact, I have an interest in that time too. My point wasn’t to suggest that historical analysis of the text of scripture cannot be a fruitful endeavor for Christians, instead my point was to suggest that we need to, as Christians, engage scripture through the ontology it presumes upon as it discloses and bears witness to its reality in Jesus Christ. If Jesus Christ is the point and purpose of history (creation etc.); then to act like there is a mode of history that can be abstracted or annexed from its purpose, in Christ, makes no sense. And so I am wondering in what way, as a Christian person, you understand history? It seems as if you are supposing that history, the kind that SBL (in general) employs (as far as a critical apparatus) is somehow distinct from history’s reality; as if there is some sort of “secular” mode of history that is distinct from a “sacred” one. Could you clarify further, how you are using history if it is not Christologically conditioned (maybe in the way that I am suggesting it should be)?
Stephen
Thank you for joining the discussion. Your comment was very helpful and I think it provided a necessary perspective on the matter of historiography. Like you I think that the work of historians on this matter is something that should be given attention by the church.
You did a fantastic job of summarizing in one paragraph what I’ve been trying to say in a few posts now. Historiography is not something that can be used by scholars to obtain some sort of “objective” unchallenged view on matters, but it is a trade (even a science as you put it) in that it does have methodology that helps us reach the best possible conclusions.
Your comment that, “…the proponents of “theological interpretation” (which I also have no problem with in general), who talk about the problems of objectivist flawed historical study, who trade most in (functionally) absolute certainty kinds of claims” has been very true to my experience as well.
Bobby
I am not speaking on history strictly as “what happened in the past.” That is something far bigger and more chaotic than the academic discipline. When I speak of history, or maybe better put “historiography,” I am speaking of the academic discipline of doing history (something Stephen explained quite well in an above comment) wherein we attempt to interpret and understand particular events of the past that have contemporary relevance by means of reconstructing the events through the evidence available.
For example, I affirm that the resurrection of Jesus happened “in history,” or the past, but I am not sure that we can historically or historiographically verify the resurrection. The tools of historiography don’t address God or gods, or divine intervention, or any of those things. That is why as I much as I enjoyed Michael Licona’s work on the resurrection I remain conflicted over whether or not it is fair to say we can come up with the resurrection using the tools of historiography. And this may be part of what you are saying: we can “discover” whether or not Jesus is the eternal Logos, or whether he was raised from the dead, or whether he sits at the right hand of the Father through naturalistic methodology as seen in the discipline of historiography. At best, we can say things like it is quite evident that a Jew named Jesus from Nazareth lived. These are some actions that make sense in light of historiography. These are some sayings and teachings that make sense in light of historiography. But some things can’t be determined through the historiographical method. That Jesus walked on water is something quite doubtful if we are limited to the tools of historiography, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, only that we can “know it happened” through this discipline.
I get the backlash against historiography in some Christian circles though. Too often people like Borg or Crossan use historiographical tools to rightly conclude that we cannot verify some things only to then make bold statements that they cannot be true. I am fine with them saying they don’t believe it to be true, and that historiographical tools reach the conclusion that it is quite unlikely that they are true, but it is one more theological step to be sure they are not true. This may be where their move from historians to theologians gets convoluted causing some confusing over the nature of critical historiography as it relates to the Christian faith.
Brian,
I understand the distinction between history and historiography (that’s what I meant when I said of SBL “as far as a critical apparatus”).
The body of your response above (to me), is intriguing; because it allows me, anyway, to understand better what you have been trying to get at with Bryce. You write “But some things can’t be determined through the historiographical method. That Jesus walked on water is something quite doubtful if we are limited to the tools of historiography, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, only that we can “know it happened” through this discipline.” Indeed! And what you have articulated corresponds very well with what I quoted from Torrance above, “All this means that any christological approach that starts from the man Jesus, from the historical Jesus, and tries to pass over to God, and so to link human nature to God, is utterly impossible. In fact it is essentially a wrong act: for it runs directly counter to God’s act of grace which has joined God to humanity in Christ.” My concern though, remains. It’s as if the message and reality disclosed in scripture is held by the gatekeepers of historiography; as if this reconstructive work (by the biblical students doing history) becomes the foundation upon which the revelation of God in Christ (the reality which scripture points to) is grounded. If this is what is going on with historiography in biblical studies, then in what way is God himself free to encounter us as he is in himself? How can you assure me (you as the historian) that the God I am meeting through scripture’s disclosure is not the God of Borg and Crossan, but instead the God self revealed in Jesus Christ?
Here is how my “e-friend” Darren Sumner put my concern in a post that he wrote awhile ago on Van Til’s critique of Barth’s understanding of revelation and history (he is responding to a Reformed scholar with the last name of Cassidy); Darren is discussing the ontology of scripture and a theory of revelation, and their relation to historical criticism:
It is this mood, of course (and you know this already), that is informing my thinking, Brian. So in one sense you seem to be okay with something like Darren is articulating, but then you almost take that away with your other hand. When you communicate that you simply study the Bible as a historian, then I’m left wondering in what way being a Christian implicates your “historicity”? It is this that I am trying to grasp, Brian. How can you isolate yourself as a historian away from yourself as a Christian? This is really my dilemma with what you’ve been communicating thus far. If scripture’s ontology is embedded deeply within God’s triune speech act to us through the giving of himself to us in the Spirit anointed Son (grace), and you have been brought into this act of God by participating in his life through the life of his Son; then how do you abstract some part of yourself out of that reality, into another form known as a historian—when engaging in the act of studying the Bible? Or in short: If scripture is all about Jesus, then how can the tools of historiography access Jesus prior to encountering the Jesus that these tools supposedly are laying bare?
Bobby,
Prepare to be amused. You wrote above, “my point was to suggest that we need to, as Christians, engage scripture through the ontology it presumes upon as it discloses and bears witness to its reality in Jesus Christ,” as part of what seemed like a criticism of any kind of historical approach to the Bible (or anything, for that matter) that isn’t “Christologically conditioned.” Because of my prior training at Westminster Theological Seminary (MAR; ThM), and thus years of interactions with uber polemical Van Tilians, I was hearing what you were saying as Van Tilian kind of discourse.
In my time at WTS I often heard claims similar to yours used to tell us folks who were more interested in historical study of the Bible that any readings of it out of accord with their theology were, by definition, wrong and illegitimate because they didn’t approach the Bible, and history itself, “in relation to the Ontological Trinity,” and so on — which for them was a cipher for saying that we didn’t approach the Bible with the presumption that all their readings of it and their theology must be correct. Broader talk about history and what not were generally part of their prolegomena game designed to shift all discussions of data that they may not control (i.e., ancient history) to “data” they could control (i.e., idiosyncratic Van Tilian jargon about whatever).
Anyway, after reading your subsequent posts and then the post and comments over at Darren Sumner’s blog, I see that you’re not a Van Tilian. Of course, I realize that Van Tilians don’t have a monopoly on using prolegomena theological claims to try to control what biblical scholars can say about the Bible. Even so, I thought you’d be amused by my initial reaction to your post.
FWIW, I enjoyed reading the blog post and comments at Sumner’s blog. My theological training at WTS was incredibly selective and idiosyncratic — basically a small slice of the Reformed tradition mediated thoroughly by polemical Van Tilianism. As you can imagine, they presented us with fairly “interesting” depictions of Barth (he was basically the boogeyman for everything). A friend of mine who had read more broadly in Barth before coming to WTS had the delightful experience in a ThM/PhD seminar about Barth of getting yelled out by one of the profs for taking issue with the professors’ caricatures of Barth and pointing out that they simply were not accurate readings. He was asked aggressively over and over again, “Do you believe in the Westminster Confession of Faith?!” (figure that one out).
Stephen,
That is highly amusing, and concerning to me 😉 ! I have a good friend who is about to enter WTS, and who follows the party line of Van Til contra Barth, I’ve been trying to convert him :-), but thus far no luck. My usage of the ontology of scripture etc. comes from the likes of John Webster, and nothing to do with the presuppositionalist crowd.
I think prolegomena is very important; we all have one, as you know, so why not be conscious and intentional about that?
I am not surprised at your friend’s experience, and I am well aware, unfortunately, of the culture at WTS, more in particular the California campus (which is where I am originally from).
So are you a Federal Calvinist?
Bobby
I don’t know that I would say I can “assure” you, but I don’t know that theologians can do that either. I can present my reasons for believing from the perspective of being a Christian, and I can share particular aspects of my studies that have given me confidence that Jesus is who Christians claim him, but there is no guarantee that this will assure anyone.
For example, I remember hearing when I was younger than Jesus’ resurrection was another “dying-resurrecting god” myth. There were some “theological” arguments that helped me like C.S. Lewis’ claim that pagan mythology sounding like Christian theology was not a bad thing because God could have planted previews of the true in the stories of the people of the world, but that wasn’t completely convincing to me. Far more assuring was the evidence from failed messianic campaigns were the movement splintered and disappeared after the leader was disposed. I had to ask why Jesus’ followers did not do the same. As to why Jesus was not just another “resurrecting god” I found this accusation greatly misunderstood how Jesus was viewed as a Jewish messiah and there is no place for a Jewish messiah who fails, does not restore the Kingdom, and who experiences the general resurrection in the middle of history. However Jesus’ early followers understood him to be one with the God of Israel their understanding of the resurrection does not seem shaped by pagan mythology and their understanding of messiah, his suffering, his death, and his resurrection look like nothing I see from any other ideology or sect of first century Judaism. These findings greatly strengthened my confidence in the uniqueness of Christian proclamation on the resurrection.
That said, I cannot “prove” the resurrection or Jesus’ identity using historiographical tools, but that is OK. The resurrection isn’t something we can “prove” anyway, even if we use the most orthodox theological jargon. The resurrection is something we come to believe through the proclamation of the gospel and the work of the Spirit. If it so happens that the Spirit uses the historical research of folks like Craig A. Evans, N.T. Wright, Richard Bauckham, Larry Hurtado, et al, to awaken faith within someone, good. But Christians who do historiographical work should be aware that even if we are confessional our field has its limitations when it comes to “proving” things.
Brian,
Thanks for your encouraging comments. Was trying to say something that fit with points you’ve been making in your posts. I like your framing of doing history as “trade;” that makes sense. Hopefully we can continue to discuss these and related matters in the future.
Brian,
Thank you for the reply. I understand where you’re coming from, and I wish I had more time to give to this discussion, in a more robust way; I like this kind of discussion—the kind that Bryce kicked off with you.
Bobby,
Sorry to hear about your Van Til party-line friend about to go to WTS, where he will surely be offered further helpings of the kool aid. Maybe there is a ray of hope. I went to WTS quite convinced by Van Til, having read a great deal of his work. During my time at WTS, however, I began to question matters, especially when I found Van Tilianism in practice used almost exclusively as a (meaningless) jargon club to pound people who disagree into prolegomena submission.
Don’t get me wrong, I agree that prolegomena is important, but one way the WTS Van Tilian gate keepers do it involves an array of basically meaningless jargon that serves to insulate them from any criticism. They use this to teach MDiv students how they can master the universe by knowing a small amount of jargon — teaching them always to shift conversations away from whatever the topic is (about which they may know nothing) to the field of jargon where they can dominate (e.g., “I don’t think we should be talking about X but, rather, how we talk about X…and we know that X only has meaning in the creator-creature distinction and in relation to the Ontological Trinity…etc. etc. etc.).
I began to find these moves problematic because of three things. (1) When I would press both Van Tilian kool aid drinking students and the profs about what they mean with their jargon in relation to particular issues, criticisms, and the like, they could/would never spell things out concretely. I would ask, for example, how do they adjudicate whether someone is making an illegitimate “normative” use of “extra-biblical literature” for interpreting the Bible versus a proper “informative” use. They would/could never spell out a definition, any criteria, etc., beyond that a “normative” use was something that resulted in readings of the Bible with which they disagreed.
(2) It became quite disconcerting when Van Tilians used the presuppositional approaches to shut down potentially critical conversations. “Sophisticated” Van Tilian theology at WTS when I was there often amounted to showing how more and more aspects of their theology and readings of the Bible resided in the realm of “presuppositions” that are off limits from any discussion — such that even proposing a critical discussion of them meant you were already starting from a “basically non Christian position.” This and point 1 above seem to be pretty obvious circular argument strategies or, as I have come to call them, standard Van Tilian “we’re right because we’re right” arguments.
(3) Overall, as mentioned above, it seemed like a primary function of Van Tilianism at WTS was to inculcate students into a “there’s nothing you don’t know” mentality and interactive praxis. It encourages students to think that no matter what the topic and their level of knowledge (or lack of it) they can master it in front of others. This doesn’t promote any kind of humility, but rather the opposite. Lost count of how many conversations I had with students there who knew nothing or next to nothing about my areas of expertise when I was there (Early Judaism; historical study of Bible; related scholarship) who would speak with an attitude of absolute authority and certainty (often condescension too) about these areas, pontificating about how their Van Tilian and Reformed Theology gave them insight that I somehow lacked, despite my knowledge of the “so-called data.” This also entertained me since (back then) I often knew their beloved Reformed theologians and Van Til better than them…but that apparently didn’t matter since my disagreement was enough to convict me of ignorance. Again, this struck me as toxic kind of arrogance — leaving me wondering what such folks would behave like as pastors and leaders in our churches when infinitely more important and practical issues are at hand.
Sorry for the long ramble about Van Tilianism at WTS. I gather you’re familiar with all this. Hopefully your friend will note some of these issues and it will lead him to a more balanced (and even edifying) assessment of Van Til — as you gather, my concern is actually less with the ins and outs of the finer points of Van Tilian theology, but the way certain WTS Van Tilianism serves as part of a toxic enculturation that involves a thoroughgoing self-insulation and overly imperious and polemical attitudes towards other Christians.
What do you mean by “Federal Calvinist”?
I keep hearing good things about John Webster, but haven’t read him. Don’t read much theology these days — not from lack of interest, just because of my current research orientations. Also, as I said, most of my past theological education and readings were very narrow, restricted basically to the WTS canon of theologians.
BTW, I should clarify my comment, “[WTS Van Tilianism] struck me as toxic kind of arrogance — leaving me wondering what such folks would behave like as pastors and leaders in our churches when infinitely more important and practical issues are at hand.”
In my experience most such folks don’t behave in dysfunctional polemical Van Tilian ways throughout their lives as friends, husbands, fathers, pastors, etc. For most this stuff only comes out when their brain goes into polemical-theology mode, which tends only to get activated in certain kinds of settings and about certain issues. This, of course, isn’t surprising given that our brains/minds aren’t just one big logic machine, but in fact modular with all sorts of different domain specific systems and what not.
I did find exceptions to this pattern (i.e., Van Tilians who were more thoroughgoingly Van Tilian throughout their lives), but such exceptions tended to be among people with certain kinds of personalities and/or in certain kinds of social locations (i.e., people who could spend most of their lives just thinking about the finer polemical points of theology all the time and who associated mostly with other Van Tilians just like that).
Stephen,
Thank you for the explanation.
I probably should not even ask you about Federal/Covenant theology (and/or Calvinism) in this thread, since it is off topic and a can of worms. I just was wondering, given your educational background at WTS, if you’re into Federal/Covenant theology?—I conflated Federal Theology with Calvinism in order to come up with Federal Calvinism.
I totally understand what you’re getting at with trying to engage ‘Van Tilians’; what you are describing (as far as their method of engagement or nonengagement) sounds a lot like how it is when trying to engage a Muslim in critical form—i.e. the second you attempt to have any critical reflection of their views, you are speaking as the devil. I some times visit Reformed Forum (which is a website operated by WTS PhD students like Camden Bucy and Jeffery Waddington et al); they are ardent Van Tilians and exemplify the kind of mode you were describing and decrying above. I do understand what you are getting at, and it sounds like you have moved away from this; that is great to hear!
You should read John Webster’s little book Holy Scripture: A Dogmatic Sketch, you would be blessed by it (and so would Brian if he would ever read it 😉 ).
I have an edited book out (just came out this June) with Myk Habets entitled: Evangelical Calvinism: Essays Resourcing the Continuing Reformation of the Church, it offers an alternative strand of Calvinism (largely framed by Calvin, Thomas Torrance, Karl Barth, and Scottish Theology from the past) to the kind that WTS forwards. Myk and I certainly believe that scripture ought to be ‘critically’ engaged, but that this critical engagement ought to also have a Christian Dogmatic framework from which to work. That’s not to say that this framework necessarily requires anything other than a dialectical engagement of scripture; such that it is always interpreted with its reality as its final shape (or Jesus Christ). I think historical analysis, literary analysis, canonical analysis and any kind of truly ‘critical’ analysis can only help to buttress this kind of approach. One of the best examples that I know of someone who has exemplified this kind of work in her constructive approach is Suzanne McDonald in her published PhD dissertation entitled: Reimaging Election. In it, she constructively places John Owen, Karl Barth and NT Wright (amongst many others) into conversation around the issue of election; she offers the kind of work I am interested, and shows how Biblical Studies and Christian Dogmatic thinking can be brought together in constructive and fruitful ways; in ways that can help to foster an environment that does not shut down either discipline (of theology or bib studies). Anyway, thanks for the correspondence.
My comment above is to you Stephen.
Bobby,
Thanks. Some of what you are describing sounds very interesting theologically. As I said, I spend most of my life now in historian mode when it comes to biblical writings and early Christianity in the ancient Mediterranean (my main area of PhD research) — but have long been wrestling with how what I do (including much of the “theory” I have been studying, mainly sociology and various cognitive sciences such as evolutionary psychology) can participate in a positive theological endeavor.
Most of my theological thoughts over the past several years have been more of the “negative” variety — criticisms of the WTS Van Tilianism world and certain aspects of American Evangelicalism…though negative criticisms for a hopefully positive purpose: I want room for more positive conversations about how the Bible is authoritative for us, how we do theology with it, what the nature of our theology is, and so on.
I’ll email you soon; would love to communicate about this more, if you’re willing.
Oh…am familiar with the Reformed Forum. Have had some exchanges there over the past year or so:
http://reformedforum.org/podcasts/ctc186/#comment-50699
http://reformedforum.org/podcasts/ctc225/#comment-84723
Bobby Grow: The idea you posited of a theological exegesis, I find extremely interesting—and I haven’t read much on this (although I am working through some of Barth’s work now). However, I think the question you ask Brian — in regards to an assurance that you aren’t encountering Borg or Crossan’s God — can be asked of the theological thinker as well. So I am curious what safe guards you have in place that assures that you aren’t encountering the God of Torrance, Barth, or Calvin rather than the God of Christ?
I think the problem you raised, Bobby, expands beyond just the Bible. I mean, historians attempt to view history objectively, to uncover what occurred— any valued based interpretation isn’t for the historian to do… technically. If we are to believe, as Christians, that history has a ‘purpose’ or ‘guidance,’ then any sort of objective uncovering is impossible. As it would then be an abstraction to what God is doing. So Bobby, are you saying that history, even outside the Bible, should be viewed with this same caution as the historian’s handling of the Bible?
@Stephen,
Cool, I just read one of your exchanges with “Jon,” I see what you were getting at earlier with you point about them appealing to jargon etc.
I would love to correspond further by email, my email is: growba@gmail.com. I look forward to hearing from you, Stephen!
@BAAJ,
I agree with your point about my question about assurances being applicable to the theologians as well. That said, the theologian—worth their salt—ought to be working at and from a grammar that is demanded by the theo-logic present in God’s life Self-revealed and thus interpreted in Jesus Christ (cf. Jn. 1:18). But of course this is always an open-ended dialectical and spiraling process; and it ought to be no other way, since we know, given the theo-logical implications of God’s Triune life that he is dynamic (V. static) relational, and a God of love who acts in grace (primarily known and exemplified in and through the Incarnation). So I don’t want to collapse the barometer for meaning (of scripture) into a textual linguistic socio-cultural community (a la Lindbeck), but I see (riffing on the patristic ‘rule of faith’) the analogy of lens or purpose of scripture shaped in and through the life of God revealed in Jesus Christ. I know that seems ethereal, and probably abstract, but what I don’t think is abstract—but instead concrete and particular—is the enfleshing of God in Christ. The theologian’s task is lay bare the web of beliefs that necessarily flow from this reality; and I take, for example, the so called ecumenical councils wranglings and wrestlings with this, early on, as exemplary of how Christians ought to seek to provide grammar for the theo-logic and christo-logic that scripture is presupposing upon in its occasional writings (which as Torrance would say is its ‘Depth Dimension’). So unlike, Brian (and NT Wright), I am not ready to look at the Patristic era and the theology “started” there as if it is part of some sort of “salad bar” wherein I can choose if I want to take some of this or that; no, I believe that we must listen to the teachers of the Church (the past) as if Jesus Christ himself gave them to her for her edification. But of course I see this kind of “always reforming” principle as something that is an ongoing reality, and thus even the grammar provided in the Patristic era (as formative as it is!) is open to further clarification and critique (but not simple abandonment) as we continue to grow in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ, as we are moving toward attaining (finally!) the unity of the Faith. I am not interested in merely repristinating the past (we have the post-Reformed orthodox—see Stephen’s links—and the Eastern Orthodox for that), but I am interested in engaging the past insofar as the rich and deep heritage provided therein fosters a depth relation to and understanding of our Triune God revealed in Jesus Christ. So my question to Brian was in fact really noting something, ironically, that I don’t think anyone can assure; but then, I do think if we are going to be theological realists (which I am, or ‘critical’), and if we are going to do Theological Science (as TF Torrance does it, which also serves as a title for one of his books)—meaning that our categories and emphases for inquiry will be defined as the object of our consideration imposes ‘himself’ (or itself) upon us (Torrance calls this an ‘epistemological inversion’)—then the ground for arbitrating what is true and sure will indeed, and once again, be the theo-logic that is present from the revelation of God in Christ.
So I know that much of my post is repetitive. The moral of my comment and belief can be summed up thusly: The revelation of God in Jesus Christ is the rule of faith by which all of the occasional writings of scripture (given the reality of all of their various types, genres and forms etc.) ought to be framed; because they all (even given their particularities and idiosyncrasies) trade on the same kergymatic reality of God’s life in Christ (or they all presume upon a theological reality about who God is, and that reality is only understood, according to scripture, through the explanation given in Jesus Christ cf. John 1:18).
Bobby: I guess my concern is with “theological interpretation,” as being the only way one ought to look at the text, and what this actually entails. My academic background is in history as well as philosophy, and so I get the juggling between-the-questions each discipline asks when approaching a text, or the past. But I think we’ve been throwing “historiography” around a little too loosely in this conversation and, so… I’m curious, besides the theo-logic assumption made, what actually goes into interpreting a text theologically— what sort of attention would Barth or Torrance give towards ancient-Greco/Roman rhetoric styles, or the idea that Luke fits a specific literary genre, and so we can pick up on some cues out of Luke differently, than say if Luke was in the mythical genre; or that “parables” have there own unique interpretation that would be different than a more biographical/historical approach in describing events; likewise between apocalyptic literature and biographical. So basically, would a theological-approach be concerned with what a 1st Century Jew thinks—If it isn’t, how do we then ground the language context of the Bible, since the language of the Bible does appear in a particular point of time?
Another point to be considered: How do we know that a theological interpretation is not actually a form of historiographical interpretation in the first place? This translates into,how much philosophy of history are biblical studies students and theological students receiving in the first place, that they can make these calls? Are there conversations with philosophers of history to unpack this? — And this last question goes for anyone in these current programs.
BAAJ,
Torrance gives a lot of attention to Graeco-Roman stuff, but TFT does not engage the kind of issues, so much, that you are concerned with. His book “Divine Meaning” is probably the best way into the way that he understands engagement of the text (or read his “Atonement” to see how he does his “exegeis”). Or for a shorter version you could read Adam Nigh’s Chapter 3 on this issue in our edited book Evangelical Calvinism. Barth would be interested to learn (as would TFT) from all of the aforementioned things you are bringing up, like historical context etc. But given his theory of revelation these things are not revealing in themselves, and so he wants to go into the interior logic that would have been funding what the writers of scripture wrote in and through their various contexts and situations. Barth speaks of the outer logic and inner logic of the text; the former would have to do with the issues you are concerned with, the latter would provide the ground for a normative “Christian” reading of the text—and yet both of these for Barth would be mutually implicating of each other. If you are really interested in how Barth does exegesis go an read his Romerbrief or commentary on Philippians etc.For Barth the more definitive issue wouldn’t be to start with the Bible being situated in a particular point of time, but instead the particularity of God in Christ would shape how we would then address the subsidiary questions of the particularity of the text; but those particularities only find their relevance because of their relation to the reality that they bear witness to, Jesus Christ.
On the question of your second paragraph: I don’t think Barth or Torrance would deny that theological interpretation has a heritage, but they would qualify this, I think, by asserting (and arguing) that the history is always eschatologically and apocalyptically oriented by the life of God in Christ; so the history is not predicating God’s life, but God’s life is predicating history—so a theological account of the history. [Neither Barth or Torrance have time for a kind of ‘Foundationalism’—their critique is always a theological/dogmatic one, and that is just how it is for them]
This is all I have time for at the moment.