A Truth Above All Contexts: Daniel Kirk, Whiteness, and the Theological Interpretation of Scripture

A piece of mine written in response to Daniel Kirk’s criticism of the ‘whiteness’ of reading Scripture according to the Rule of Faith has just been posted over on Mere Orthodoxy.

If Theological Interpretation of Scripture needs to question the supposed objectivity and authority of its readings—and it should always retain a robust self-criticism—by the same token historical criticism needs to exhibit considerably more self-suspicion (as scholars such as Ignacio Carbajosa have argued). Historical criticism has ideologically weighted methods and philosophical assumptions, assumptions about the character of history, the evolution of religion, the sort of text that the Scripture is, etc. Indeed, precisely on account of its scientific pretensions, historical criticism has been arguably been considerably more vulnerable to delusions of its own objectivity and immunity to conditioning by its context. Such delusions are, of course, particularly characteristic of the Enlightenment (which is as white, Western, and male a phenomenon as one might hope to find). When historical criticism is practically elevated to the status of a culturally neutral and unconditioned (or universal) posture adopted in relation to the text we have a far more pronounced instance of Kirk’s so-called ‘problem of whiteness’ than the rule of faith could ever represent.

Read the whole piece here.

Posted in Bible, Controversies, Guest Post, Hermeneutics, NT, NT Theology, OT, OT Theology, Revelation, Scripture, The Triune God, Theological | 1 Comment

The Politics of Being on the Wrong Side of History

A lectionary reflection of mine on the Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector has just been published over on Political Theology Today. If you think you’ve seen it before, you probably have. It was written for Political Theology Today three years ago, but I accidentally doubled up with another contributor, so I posted it on my blog instead. However, this week the lectionary reading came around again and I finally have a chance to post it on Political Theology Today as first intended.

If the second half of Luke 17 is concerned with the manner of the coming of the kingdom of God, much of the chapter that follows addresses the manner in which people will receive its blessings. In a series of parables and teachings, Jesus presents this in terms of a number of different categories: vengeance (vv.1-8), vindication (vv.9-14), reception (vv.15-17), inheritance (vv.18-23), and entrance (vv.24-30).

While it might be easy to read the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector merely as a teaching concerning the contrasting private relationships individuals have with God, when we situate the parable upon the broader canvas of Jesus’ teaching regarding the coming kingdom, further dimensions emerge.

In particular, it underlines that fact that the actions of the various characters in this parable and the teachings that surround it—the persistent widow, the rich young ruler, the tax collector and Pharisee, the disciples—are oriented towards the horizon of a future and public action of God within Israel’s and the world’s history. This day would bring both vindication and judgment: there would be deliverance and reward for some, and exclusion and shame for others. It would publicly reveal where everyone stood relative to God’s purposes in history.

Read the whole thing here.

Posted in Bible, Eschatology, Guest Post, Luke, NT, NT Theology, Politics, Society, The Gospels, Theological | Leave a comment

The Eternal Subordination of the Son Controversy: 7. Reconciling Scripture and Dogma

1. The Debate So Far
2. Survey of Some Relevant Material
3. Subordination
4. The Need for Trinitarian Clarity (Part 1)
5. The Need for Trinitarian Clarity (Part 2)
6. The Tension Between Bible and Doctrine

The seventh part of my treatment of the eternal subordination of the Son debate has just been published over on Reformation21. In the post I discuss ways in which the often strained relationship between biblical scholarship and systematic theology could be improved.

What is required is, I believe, a marked shift of posture from many dogmaticians in their relation to Scripture, and most particularly in relation to the doctrine of the Trinity. The relationship that dogmaticians have all too often maintained between Scripture and the doctrine of the Trinity has been one overly mediated by the ‘proof-text’. The purpose of the ‘proof-text’ is primarily and narrowly the justification of Trinitarian doctrine itself. The concept and the practical functioning of proof-texts can encourage a perception of Trinitarian doctrine as akin to a large balloon tethered to the earth by slender cords, each of which must be guarded at all costs.

Such an approach focuses our attention upon isolated texts and concentrates our efforts upon the task of finding the doctrine in the Scriptures, conceived of as a collection of individual texts. However, this is, I believe, the wrong place and manner to look. As I mentioned in a previous article in this series, the doctrine of the Trinity isn’t primarily seen at odd points in the text, but through the text in its entirety. It is not so much about particular pieces in the jigsaw puzzle, as it is about the picture on the front of the box. Although reflection upon individual texts is a necessary part of this recognition process, they are, as it were, only footholds on a climb to a commanding vantage point from which the whole terrain of biblical revelation unfolds as a vast and glorious vista beneath us.

Read the whole thing here.

Posted in Bible, Controversies, Guest Post, Hermeneutics, NT, NT Theology, OT, OT Theology, Scripture, Theological | Leave a comment

Podcast: Disability

Mere FidelityOn this week’s episode of Mere Fidelity, Matt and I are joined by Kelby Carlson to discuss disability. Kelby has previously guest posted on my blog on the subject.

Next week, we will be returning to our reading of Lewis’ The Four Loves.

You can also follow the podcast on iTunes, or using this RSS feed. Listen to past episodes on Soundcloud and on this page on my blog.

*If you would like to support the production of the Mere Fidelity podcast, helping us to cover our monthly costs, please visit our Patreon page*

Posted in Christian Experience, Culture, Podcasts, Soteriology, Theological | 2 Comments

Common Places: A New Davenant Trust Sponsored Podcast

The good folks over at the Davenant Trust are sponsoring a new podcast, Common Places. They have already posted two episodes, one with Brad Littlejohn and another with Eric Hutchinson. This is a podcast worth following.

Posted in Church History, Podcasts, Politics, Theological | Leave a comment

Rebuilding the Fallen Walls of Evangelicalism—Further Reflections on Evangelical Identity

Nehemiah Views the Ruins of Jerusalem's Walls

In my last post, I suggested that the time may have come for American Christians to abandon ‘evangelicalism’ (see Alan Jacobs’ thoughtful response). Within this post, I want to take a step back and offer a framework for thinking about the problem that we face, and the sort of solution that we need.

In any situation, the primary battle that we face—the battle that always precedes and takes priority over all other battles—is the battle for our own souls, the struggle for self-possession. When we face bitter persecution and see our Jerusalems surrounded by armies, we must patiently fight to possess our own souls (Luke 21:19). The framing of this in terms of possession recalls earlier contrasts between the soul and possessions in the gospel: what does it profit us if we gain the whole world and forfeit our souls (9:25)? Our soul itself is to be pursued as a possession, one that is only possessed through an ongoing struggle. This doesn’t just apply to individuals, but also to churches, organizations, communities, and other bodies of people.

In my last post, I discussed the weaknesses of evangelicalism. If I were to characterize the fundamental problem with evangelicalism, it is that it was always unprepared to fight the battle for its own soul. Unable to secure its own soul, it either capitulated to prevailing cultural forces, or sought to possess its soul through external battles against them.

Proverbs 25:28 speaks of the desolation of the man who has lost the battle for himself, describing him as akin to a city whose walls are broken through. This illustration is an illuminating one. The walls of the self are those things that enable us to create an internal environment that is distinct and protected from the hostile forces of an external environment. The walls of the self are those things that enable us to be differentiated from those around us (as Edwin Friedman discusses), making it possible for us to maintain a healthy homeostasis, even in wildly fluctuating environmental conditions.

Evangelicalism has failed in large measure because it could not establish a robust walled self. Its amorphous and porous boundaries meant that it was consistently either assimilating or locked into an antagonistic immune response mode. Its character as a mass movement meant that it was already partially complicit with the de-differentiating forces of modern life. It wasn’t able to be a strong and clear presence in compromised situations without either compromising itself or being engaged in a cultural total war. As it has never been able to develop a clearly distinguished identity of its own over against American society, its identity has always been radically at stake in the culture wars. Unable effectively to develop distinctness from its surrounding environment, it has a desperate need to win the culture wars for that external cultural environment. In this struggle, it has increasingly surrendered its own soul.

To explore a different metaphor, evangelicalism is a movement without a ‘skin’. As such, its vulnerability to its environment is fairly extreme: if it is to avoid assimilating to its environment it must control the environment, maintain an extreme and antagonistic immune response to the environment, or cut itself off from the environment. Of course, with a skin, one can be present in non-sterile environments without being infected by them. A skin is that which clearly marks and maintains the division of the self from the environment in such a manner that the self is enabled to be present without being compromised by or experiencing an extreme immune response to the environment. Evangelicalism as a mass movement profoundly exposed to and invested in the dynamics of American consumerist and political society has never been able to provide that.

A great many Christians recognize the toxicity of the wider cultural environment. However, it has been far too typical to adopt approaches that amount either to disengagement and withdrawal from the environment or ramped-up immune response to it. What I am suggesting is that the most important battle must be for the differentiation of our self and that, where we are victorious in this battle we can remain engaged in the society without assimilating to it.

‘Differentiation’ sounds like psychological jargon, perhaps because it is. However, in essence it refers to what could be compared to the walls or skin of the ‘self’ (of the individual or the group), those ways in which we are shielded from our external environment while being present within it, and thereby enabled to retain internal balance and equilibrium in volatile external contexts. It refers to the ways that we establish a clear distinction and firewall between ourselves and others, making it possible for us to regulate our internal state without needing to master or defeat any other parties. When we cannot do this, we will inevitably get caught up in reactive conflicts with them.

I’ve addressed the importance of ‘differentiation’ in the context of the Internet in the past, exploring the ways in which the walls of our selves have been broken down, so that we are increasingly vulnerable to the pressures of our social environments online. I have argued for the importance of erecting and preserving differentiating structures and practices that protect us from simply ‘reacting’ to environmental or social forces and enable us to ‘respond’ as self-controlled agents.

The walls of the self that we can construct in these situations can take many forms. Sometimes they may involve ensuring the intermission of time between stimulus and response, providing the room within which deliberation and reflection can occur. Sometimes they will involve the creation of distinct communities. Sometimes they will require us temporarily yet frequently to withdraw from socially saturated environments, preserving realms of privacy and solitude within which self-knowledge and healthy meditation can take place. Sometimes it will be a matter of praying for people with whom we differ sharply, breaking the reaction-spawning immediacy of our engagement with them by ensuring that we mediate our relationship with them through our relationship with God.

Where we do not develop robust walls for ourselves, external conflicts can become all-consuming. They can suck us in and destroy us. However, with such robust walls, we can maintain calm and clear heads in highly conflictual environments. This all begins with the recognition that the battle for the self is the most important one and that this battle is won through the establishment of effective differentiation.

Without robust walls—or a thick skin—evangelicals cannot maintain their own identity and balance in a hostile environment. A mass movement that is individualistic and de-institutionalized—a movement that has an ideology, but only a fluid and porous sociological form—cannot provide this and will always have a problematic relationship with an environment from which it cannot effectively distinguish itself. This development of thick skin is also the necessary condition for meaningful social and political presence and effective engagement.

What we need is to interrupt the processes whereby we fairly thoughtlessly default to and identify with the culture that surrounds us. Rather than simply fighting against the effects of lack of differentiation from the culture, we must address the underlying issue. When we fail to do this, we will become a movement that survives only by means of regular doses of heavy ideological medication, rather than living on a rich and balanced diet of truth.

The solution here won’t primarily be a more thoroughgoing ‘worldview’ or spreading a deeper theological awareness. The walls of the self are generally far more practical and concrete than that in character. They are developed out of the habits, practices, institutions, norms, rituals, prohibitions, identifications, loves, symbols, bonds, ways of life, and places of persons and communities. These are primarily sociological rather than ideological realities. They are the things that maintain a clear distinction between one body of people and another.

The sacraments, for instance, are an important part of the walls of the self of the Church. They mark us out as a people, distinguishing us from the society that surrounds us. This isn’t about teaching us an idea, but about, among other things, making it second nature for us to think of ourselves as a distinct people, with a distinct manner of life. It is primarily a body-forming action, rather than an occasion for theological instruction and reflection. The fact that Christ commanded us to ‘do’ it, rather than to ‘meditate’ upon it is significant for this and so many other reasons. We should celebrate the Supper, for instance, as regularly as possible.

In this and many other ways, we must unplug people from the surrounding culture and connect them to a new body of people, while keeping them present within the world. Christians and the Church must become more pronounced in their sociological distinctness (which is not the same thing as cultural disengagement), perhaps even to the point of risking being perceived as weird in various respects. What is ‘normal’ for Christians in a host of areas of life should be markedly different from what is normal for the surrounding culture. This is so much easier when we have established and maintained robust differentiating structures and practices and where groups of Christians shoulder the burden of self-differentiation together, rather than relying upon a heroic individualism. A poorly self-defined evangelicalism may have been somewhat sustainable in the broadly Christianized American society that once existed in certain locations: it is no longer a viable option in a post-Christian age.

Christians that are well differentiated from the surrounding society can more easily maintain a powerful and effective presence within it, without succumbing to its lures. We can stand firm in our witness on issues of social morality without needing to win culture wars at any cost. We can engage and cooperate more widely and irenically, judiciously pursuing the common good, even while retaining importance differences from those around us.

Posted in Church History, Controversies, Culture, Ethics, Politics, Society, The Church, The Sacraments, Theological | 21 Comments

Has the Time Come to Abandon Evangelicalism?

In light of the ignominious behaviour of leading ‘evangelical’ voices in supporting and standing by Donald Trump, I have a question for my American friends who haven’t compromised on this point. At what point should the self-designation ‘evangelical’ be abandoned? At what point do the liabilities of the term outweigh its potential benefits? At what point does the meaning of a term need to be so hedged with qualifications and distinctions that it ceases to be fit for purpose?

‘Evangelical’ isn’t our shared Christian identity, just a word that we have historically employed to speak about certain particular and contingent expressions of that identity. Despite valiant attempts to maintain a prescriptive meaning to the term, words shift and change in their meanings in the real world and ‘evangelical’ has not been immune to this.

While there has historically been a broad theological consensus on certain issues that could be termed ‘evangelical’, the term has functioned as much as a sociological term as it has as a theological one. The descriptive sociological and more prescriptive theological meanings of the term have been diverging for some time. Viewed differently, the sociological foundations that formerly allowed us to speak meaningfully of a core theological consensus among evangelicals have been crumbling beneath us.

David Bebbington’s definition of evangelicalism in terms of Biblicism, crucicentrism, conversionism, and activism has enjoyed a lot of currency among conservatives within the evangelical movement. Originally a more descriptive definition, it is often now employed in a more prescriptive fashion by many conservatives. Yet a sociological definition of the movement and the term has, I believe, much more merit to it, especially in an American context (‘evangelical’ is more likely to function as a qualifying term—even if only implicitly—in the UK, while it seems more commonly employed as a substantive term in the US).

I have argued the case in more depth before, but evangelicalism’s identity in the US has been inextricably bound up with the movement from a more ecclesial faith to a highly democratized and de-institutionalized faith of the masses. This development was occasioned by the departure of conservative Protestants from the mainline churches (this has not happened to the same extent in the UK and the term evangelical has a slightly different sense here), by the rise of mass media, increased mobility, the intensification of capitalism’s influence upon our social forms, and other such factors.

From the common faith of defined communities within an extended family of specific historical and confessional traditions, under their appointed leaders, it shifted in the direction of a mass movement that finds its centre of gravity in shifting confluences of self-defining religious consumption catered to in large measure by non-ecclesial entities (commonly but questionably referred to as ‘parachurch’). Obviously, these developments are far more pronounced in some quarters than in others (even the ecclesial form of the mainline can be little more than a thin façade nowadays), but almost all have been irrevocably marked by them.

As I wrote in the past:

So how are we then to define evangelical identity? I believe that a definition of evangelical identity must identify the historical roots of the movement – the movements of democratization and deinstitutionalization within Protestantism. It must identify the religious sensibilities and épisteme that form the distinctive driving force of the movement – democracy, egalitarianism, anti-institutionalism, immediacy, religious autonomy and individualism, and individual interpretative authority. It must identify the family resemblances of the movement that have arisen as the governing principles of evangelicalism have acted upon the Protestant tradition. These family resemblances are numerous, including everything from forms of church structure and styles of worship to pious idioms and political allegiances. It must identify the concrete manifestations and organs of the movement: its ‘cultural’ products, its affiliations, its conversations and controversies, agencies, organizations, etc.

The laudable defence of Christian orthodoxy has always sat uneasily upon the shifting sands of the sociological movement of evangelicalism. This defence has also displayed structural cracks resulting from these insecure underpinnings. Even against the desires of those seeking to direct it, the vehicle of the evangelical movement has consistently veered in the direction of democratic populism, a sort of religious consumerism, experientialism, and the breakdown of scriptural authority, as its practical operation becomes overly mediated by individual interpretation and sentiment. Even those committed to Christian orthodoxy are almost invariably deeply affected by these forces (Bebbington’s definition itself bears traces of their influence, as I intimated in this recent post).

Those fighting to maintain a prescriptive definition of evangelicalism are fighting a losing battle. For too long ‘evangelical’ has functioned as an increasingly ineffective shibboleth for Christian orthodoxy. So much effort has been expended upon policing the amorphous boundaries of this term, upon deciding who is in and who is out. When the highly contested and vague designation ‘evangelical’ is our chosen banner, the means by which we identify our tribe, a great many questionable lines will be drawn and dangerous alignments formed. A significant amount of error wriggles unseen beneath the cover of this unwieldy boundary marker. Overturning it and exposing that which it conceals to the light may allow us to form far healthier alliances and engage in far more rigorous criticism of deep error that exists near at hand.

Trump’s candidacy is just the latest and most dramatic revelation of the moral rot at the heart of the evangelical movement. However some might wish to salvage a prescriptive definition of ‘evangelical’, it will sound ever hollower to people who see the deep and shameful compromise of the movement with which they are unavoidably even though unwillingly associated. Besides, as with a vehicle whose rapidly mounting repair costs render it more of a liability than an asset, sentimentally clinging onto a term that is no longer effectively performing its primary functional purpose is deeply imprudent.

I believe that the time has come to abandon evangelicalism and make a determined return to orthodox Protestant Christianity identities and their more ecclesial adumbrations. The sociological vehicle for our pursuit of orthodoxy cannot be a matter of indifference. Even though we should recognize a genuine spiritual affinity with a great many brothers and sisters within the mass movement of evangelicalism, we need to take greater care over how we build. We need to shift the weight of our identity and our labours away from the mass movement and back towards the church and the task of forming a healthy and well-defined public.

At their best, evangelicals are already doing these things, and have been doing them for some time. However, it is important to define ourselves more carefully in the future and to draw key lines more clearly. We are being poorly served by the term ‘evangelical’ and I believe that we must find better forms of self-definition—institutional, terminological, confessional, and otherwise—to replace it.

Posted in Church History, Controversies, Culture, Ethics, Politics, Society, The Church, Theological | 23 Comments

A Musical Case For Typological Realism E-Book

My Theopolis Institute series on a musical case for typological realism is now available for free download in e-book format from their site.

Posted in Guest Post, Hermeneutics, Public Service Announcement, Scripture, Theological | Leave a comment

Podcast: The Four Loves, Part 1

Mere FidelityIn this week’s podcast, Derek, Matt, and I have our first discussion of C.S. Lewis’ book, The Four Loves, talking about the first two chapters of the book.

You can also follow the podcast on iTunes, or using this RSS feed. Listen to past episodes on Soundcloud and on this page on my blog.

*If you would like to support the production of the Mere Fidelity podcast, helping us to cover our monthly costs, please visit our Patreon page*

Posted in Ethics, My Reading, Podcasts, Reviews | 1 Comment

On Not Getting the Joke

Ian Paul has just posted on the necessity of interpretation in our engagement with the Bible. While I broadly agree with the point that he is trying to make and share his concerns about the position he is tackling, the following is a sketch of some lunch time thoughts that push in another direction (very heavily influenced by Peter Leithart).

When talking about ‘interpretation’, I believe that we often suffer from a lack of necessary distinctions and clarity and care in our use of terms. ‘Interpretation’ seems to connote a deliberative process taken with respect to a text. Do we ‘interpret’ most of the time, or do we just ‘hear as’ or ‘get it’?

In many respects, the relation of interpreting to reading or hearing might be similar to the relation of choosing to willing. In both cases, the first act unhelpfully tends to be employed as the dominating framework for our discussion of the second. Yet, in both cases, the more smoothly things are running, the more the first act seems to retreat into the background and sometimes disappear from sight altogether. The moments in which I experience the greatest freedom are typically characterized by a fluidity of action within which I hardly seem to be choosing at all. Likewise, when things are running as they ought, interpretation hardly seems to occur.

Both choosing and interpreting seem to relate to moments of uncertainty or ambivalence, those moments in which we are unsure of which way to take things. In fact, one could argue that the deliberative processes of choosing or interpreting are the marks of things not flowing smoothly. Of course, this is not to condemn these necessary processes. Acting and reading are typically hard work and deliberative processes are the appropriate and unavoidable ways of responsibly rising to their challenges.

However, as we mature as actors and readers, our deliberative processes change too. Much that we would once have needed to deliberate about now occurs organically, fluidly, and thoughtlessly, while we deliberate about more subtle questions and concerns. Where once we would have needed to pause to think about what to do next, now, through the wisdom gained from experience, we instinctively know how to act. Where once we would have needed to engage in extensive interpretation of particular statements, now we just ‘get it’. The choosing and interpreting have become almost entirely tacit.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that people who have no sense of interpreting or choosing are the best hearers and actors—far from it! Rather, when the very best hearing and acting takes place, interpreting and choosing lose their prominence. Interpreting and choosing are necessary ways in which we learn and read/hear and act responsibly, but they do not represent the most mature forms of the activities in which they are engaged. They function to enable us to enter into a realm beyond the hesitancy and uncertainty of the deliberative processes of choice and interpretation. As such, there is a genuine danger of our progress being stalled at their intermediate stage.

When hearing Scripture, like a joke, the goal is to ‘get it’. Interpretation is the process we engage in when we do not immediately ‘get it’ and need to discover why everyone around us is laughing. The person who interprets jokes or needs them to be explained to them is usually an outsider of some kind, someone for whom the ‘aha!’ or ‘haha!’ moment is delayed.

Paul references Luke 24:27 as an argument for the importance of interpretation: Christ ‘explains’ to the disciples on the Emmaus road all that the Scriptures say concerning himself. However, what he misses is that this interpretative act only needed to occur because the disciples didn’t ‘get it’—‘O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe in all that the prophets have spoken! Ought not the Christ to have suffered these things and to enter into His glory?’ The process of interpretation here is a corrective and remedial act, necessary, but not the greater ideal at which we should aim. The act that Jesus engages in at this juncture is akin to the process of explaining a joke to a slow-witted listener. While it must often be done, it is unfortunate that it must occur, not least because the joke almost invariably suffers somewhat as a result.

As we begin to appreciate the difference between the process of interpretation and ‘getting it’—and the important connection between interpretation and not getting it—I believe that some other things will come into focus. In particular, it helps to expose some of the dangers that many lay people tend to associate with ‘interpretation’. Interpretation is a place where the wilfully obtuse can thrive, a place where and a method by which smart people can studiously commit themselves to not getting it.

Getting a joke requires, not only understanding, but also openness. Jokes seldom force themselves upon us. The hearer is free not to get it, whether through lack of understanding or wilful resistance. Jokes typically play with ambivalence and uncertainty of meaning; the person who does not want to get the joke has no shortage of avenues of ‘interpretation’ that shield him from its impact. Jokes are easily deconstructed. However, the good hearer brings openness and a sense of humour to the joke, which make it possible for him to recognize which of the various ways the joke could be taken are appropriate. He has the sense to perceive the invitation that the joke is extending and happily welcomes and accepts it.

When reading and teaching Scripture, it is very important to bear all of this in mind. It is not accidental that our Lord placed a lot of emphasis upon the one who had ears to hear. We often face the temptation to think that, if we were only to make our hermeneutical methods sharper and our exegetical explanations more airtight, other people would ‘get it’. We throw ourselves into the task of interpretation and explanation, believing that these are what really matters.

However, time and again we will find that people still resolutely don’t ‘get it’. We will also come up against the inherent ambiguities and subtleties of the text, its vulnerability to contrasting and often hostile readings. At such points the typical temptation is to say that the Scripture itself is unclear, as if a joke could only be an effective joke if its meaning were airtight and beyond question. Yet practically every funny joke works regardless of and often because of its ambiguities. What the joke requires is not so much a robust hermeneutical method as a person with ears to hear. The former cannot substitute for the lack of the latter.

The requirements that jokes make of their hearers are some of the reasons why they can be such effective means of distinguishing insiders from outsiders. This socially differentiating function also contributes to their humour. Outsiders are the people who cannot get the joke, whether through lack of understanding or wilful resistance, whereas insiders bond through their ‘sharing’ of the joke. Scripture often works in the same way. The people of God are the ones who ‘laugh’, the ones who are bound together by getting the meaning of Scripture. Even when they may not be able to explain the ‘joke’ well, they can still ‘get it’. Most Christians have a far deeper tacit understanding of Scripture than they possess a capacity to articulate that meaning. The relationship between one’s capacity to interpret or explain something and one’s ability to ‘get it’ is such that people who genuinely accomplish the latter may struggle with the former tasks.

It is important and helpful to be able to engage in the task of explaining the Scripture in order to ensure that we and others are able really and deeply to ‘get it’. However, we will often find that we are interacting with people who are taking refuge in ‘interpretation’—in the state of not getting it. In such cases it can be important to disengage, to refuse to validate interminable or dishonest engagement in deliberative processes. The responsibility for their failure to get it does not lie with the Scriptures but with them, on account of their closing of their ears, their lack of imagination, or spiritual perception. Leithart writes:

If hermeneutics is a science, then it is possible to train interpreters in the proper methods and techniques, and this can occur without much if any attention to the character of the interpreter. But what do you say about someone who is tone deaf to humor? Are there techniques for developing a sense of humor? An interpreter who doesn’t ‘get it’ might improve with wider knowledge and by imitating the example of a good interpreter. But something like a conversion needs to take place. To lack a sense of humor is not an intellectual vice; it is a symptom of a contracted soul. And so is bad, unimaginative, interpretation.

As we read Scripture as fallen human beings, we will never move beyond the need for interpretation. We will never cease to be strangers in a strange land. Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, we will frequently be slow-witted and need to have the ‘joke’ explained to us. However, failures of character will not ultimately be rectified by better hermeneutical method and exegetical practice. These things will always fall short of making us ‘get it’. What we need above all else is something that only comes from the Spirit: a posture of openness to the Scripture, ears that are quick to hear, and a heart that welcomes with liberating laughter the doors that the text opens to us. As Leithart rightly appreciates, these things only come with conversion.

Posted in Apologetics, Bible, Christian Experience, Controversies, Ethics, Hermeneutics, Revelation, Scripture, Theological | 7 Comments