The Place of Tradition in Hermeneutics

Among all of the controversies surrounding the Protestant reformation, one of the primary concerns was the proper appropriation of tradition. In Cardinal Sadolet's letter to the people of Geneva, he argues that Calvin and his contemporaries did not have the support of Christian tradition on their side. The reformers had a mere 25 years of tradition to the Roman Church's prodigious 1500 years. Calvin's response is cunning. He writes, “…the ancient church is clearly on our side, and opposes you, not less than we ourselves do.” (Calvin, John. “Reply by John Calvin to Letter by Cardinal Sadolet to the Senate and People of Geneva.”49). In responding this way he turns Sadolet's logic around and claims that the reformers are actually being more faithful to the tradition than the Catholic Church was. Thus, the appeal of the Protestant reformation was not meant to dispense with tradition. Rather, it was an argument against the way in which the Catholic Church had appropriated it.

The question then is this: What is the role of tradition in interpreting Scripture? The Catholic position appears to be that Scripture and tradition are to be held on the same level. The mainline Protestant reformers clearly hold up Scripture as authoritative (sola scriptura) without dispensing with tradition, but (perhaps problematically) leave the question of its proper position unestablished. The radical reformers seem to completely disregard tradition as irrelevant, professing that one can really read Scripture unassisted by tradition. The result of this lack of articulation on the part of Protestantism seems to be partly responsible for the fractious milieu that has become one of its hallmarks.

At the risk of muddying the waters of discussion, I will go ahead and say that, on this point at least, I think the radical reformers were more than a little naive simply because nobody is able to completely divorce themselves from their own context (cultural, historical, denominational, etc). Thus, even in the most deconstructed traditions, such as the Quakers, you will find them to be just that–– a tradition. But how does one interpret Scripture in continuity with all of Christian (and Jewish!) history? Can we just appeal to the early church without looking at the less flattering parts that follow? Should we go so far as the Catholic Church and put the two on the same level?

Review of Art of Biblical Narrative

I started my review of The Art of Biblical Narrative I posted it below. Essentially, Im okay with saying Ruth and Boaz weren't real people... Ask me about it.

Robert Alter's The Art of Biblical Narrative is a must read for anyone interested in hermeneutics and Biblical interpretation. Although this book was written before the French Revolution of Derrida, Lyotard, and Foucault, his approach is free from many of the snares and objectivist language that plagues so many hermeneutics books. "Well then, what is approach? What's his worldview? I see that he teaches at Berkley, he must be liberal" You might say. For 'hardlined evangelicals' drinking the cool-aid of Warfield, they will have a problem with his understanding of historicity of the events recorded in the Old Testament. For 'hardlined liberals' drinking the cool-aid of higher criticism, they will have a problem with his understanding of historicity of the events recorded in the Old Testament. No that wasn't a typo. Alter argues that the ancient Hebrew way of realizing history was through fiction.

0Not a balance-between-a-documentary-and-spiritualized-fables, but something different. Inspiration is pretty easy to understand when we think of the propositional stuff of 1 Timothy. What about fiction? The other 3/4 of the bible. Every character's inflection, which P.O.V., which details to include, which ones not to. Anyone who has been involved in any creative process knows that there are no rules as to what must be included, as Marilynne Robinson tells her students if they can pull it off they can do it, with that said how does a Sovereign God inspire and put His stamp of approval on a set of texts that seem to open to interpretation? I have not read every inerrantist's dealing with questions but I know what I have read is that they are assumed at best, ignored at worst.

The book is arranged with each chapter dealing with a different literary device of the OT. Alter's greatest insights are on the subject of repetition. When we are confronted with events that seem to overlap, some respond by saying "see how similar these stories are, who can make heads or tales, who knows what is real and what is made up"? Alter argues that the key to these stories is wrapped up not their similarities but in the subtle differences, in that we begin to perceive the message and shaping power of the narrative.

The Art of Biblical Narrative is not an apologetic for the scriptures, rather Alter demonstrates the beauty, intricacy, and craftmanship of the OT. Which becomes a kind of apologetic, but certainly only for those who have eyes to see.

Who’s Asking the Questions? Ethnotheology and Justification

At least one of the powerful ways culture shapes theology is its prerogative to ask questions. In doing so societies around the world are building scripts to live by, each nuanced with particularities of resources, religious traditions, education, etc. Walter Brueggemann calls our Western script, “technological, therapeutic, consumer militarism” spread on the “liturgies of television” promising safety and happiness. This has had a tremendous affect on the way we do theology. The questions that remain for an incredibly wealthy, oppressive, safe society are relegated to the non-tangible, spiritual realm. The core of our gospel (and I think ‘core’ is desperately dangerous language, deciding what’s in and what’s expendable) is justification by faith – how I get to heaven. There are at least two pressing problems with this.

First, I submit that what appears to be a pious preoccupation with God’s justification on our behalf is dangerously close to atrophying the larger narrative. God, eternally existing apart from the world has created, sustained, and filled it with image-bearers to reflect his glory. Upon our rebellion he has enacted a recreation replete with a new humanity, heavens, and earth. To reduce the focal point of our worship and the springboard of our action to our personal salvation is to swallow the gnat of John 3:16 and strain out the camel of Colossians 1:15ff. Of course our salvation tunes our hearts to praise but if we bind it to the lyrics of Indelible Grace, our view of God will surely diminish not expand.

Second, our banner of salvation-turned-hermeneutic jeopardizes our reading of the text – as if Jesus’ exposition of Moses and the Prophets had less to say about himself than about how we might renounce works and embrace life. Matthew’s gospel provides a tremendously uncomfortable example. Our modern gospel has trouble identifying the difficulty of a rich man entering the kingdom of God – they do it all the time – unless we begin to take Jesus’ pre-resurrection, cryptic gospel talk at face value. In case his readers missed Matthew’s explicit claims to Jesus’ kingship, Jesus fills in the gaps by talking about entrance into the kingdom exclusively in terms of obedience (5:13, 20, 30; 6:14, 24; 7:13-14, 19, 23, 24-27; 8:18ff; 10:26-42; 12:33-37, 50, etc.). His parables of judgment do not divide believing/unbelieving but righteous/wicked or hearing-with-fruit/hearing. Interestingly, faith is used almost exclusively to mean trust in Jesus’ ability to act in the present, physical reality. So is Jesus saying we’re saved by works not by faith? That’s not the question he’s answering. What he does seem to be saying (unless his teaching was one big set-up for the apostle Paul to knock his notions of obedience out of the park) is that salvation and doing the will of God is inseparable; that Jesus is King and his rule extends to every aspect of our lives.

I am absolutely not doubting or belittling the doctrine of justification by faith. Neither am I appealing for an end of cultural questioning, as if there are supracultural questions that can replace our pesky cultural ones for all peoples to ask. I am saying that the reading of the Word is truly a hermeneutical spiral in which we ask our context-laden questions and receive surprising answers that sharpen new questions of the text for a faithful rendition.

Just a quick thought

So I've been thinking a lot about good old Reformed theology and about how much trouble people have with predestination and the Elect. Then I was thinking about the Old Testament and how obvious it is that Israel was God's chosen people. I was reading Malachi today and was again reminded of this when God reminds Israel (through Malachi) that "I have loved Jacob but Esau I have hated. I have laid waste his hill country and left his heritage to jackals of the desert" (1:2b-3).
For some reason it is easier for me to think of God in the Old Testament choosing Israel then to think of God today only saving the Elect. But God's sovereignty in this issue is not a new concept. Just as God chose Israel and saved them and loved them, He today chooses whom he will save from death. I'm so thankful for God's goodness to save sinners such as us!
I love that Paul uses this thought in Romans 9 when describing election. Anyway this is nothing new but it just hit me in a new way. Its not that God has changed and now lets some perish, He has ALWAYS been faithful to save whom He chooses. As Paul says, there is NO injustice on God's part!

The Hermeneutics of the Emmaus Road

Rather than putting this in the comments section I wanted to synthesize some of the responses and thoughts that have been simmering in my mind with all of this discussion. Luke 24:13-35 contains some insights into hermeneutics that pertain to our recent discussions.

On the morning of the resurrection, the disciples were walking along the road discussing and talking about all that happened. When a man whom they did not recognize joins them and inquires as to what all the commotion is, they retell in their own understanding what had transpired. This man, Jesus, rebukes them for their disbelief in all that the prophets had foretold. Jesus then gives them a lesson starting with Moses and the prophets and showed that all of those writings point to Him. Jesus proceeds to share a meal with them, upon breaking bread their eyes are opened and he “vanished from their sight”.

A few observations,

1. The disciples did not recognize Jesus physically (their eyes were kept from recognizing him) or spiritually (they were looking for the “one to redeem Israel”)

2. The disciples had misread and therefore disbelieved in the Scriptures

3. Jesus gives them an OT survey with Himself as the central protagonist

4. After breaking bread their eyes were opened

This pertains to our recent discussion in a few ways. Like the disciples we see Jesus on our own terms. As this story shows, Jesus is most fit for the task to correct our views of Him and as we saw in Mark 8, only Jesus can decide who is and is not fit to preach. Misunderstanding is form of disbelief. This next point is perhaps the most slippery exegetically. I think that hermeneutics must be sacramental. As Jesus broke the bread and gave it them their eyes were opened. Internalization of these stories is a form of hermeneutics. As Flannery O’Connor pointed out, the point is the story. Reading scripture must develop a Christ-as-the-protagonist internalization.

Jesus, Peter, and Theological Precision

One of Jesus' most bizarre statements in the gospel of Mark comes in its eighth chapter. He has just finished feeding the four thousand, has rebuked the Pharisees and the disciples for their unbelief, and has healed a blind man at Bethsaida. While on his way to the villages of Caesarea Philippi with the disciples he asks them the loaded question, "Who do people say that I am?" They answer with a litany of venerable, but inferior spiritual leaders. Immediately, Jesus narrows his focus. The disciples are now forced to account for their understanding of the identity of Jesus. Peter, always a tad bit impetuous, gladly answers for the whole. He declares Jesus to be the Christ, the Messiah. Jesus then says the unthinkable. Something that would no more be said from an American evangelical pulpit than a Hillary Clinton campaign endorsement. "He strictly charged them to tell no one about him."

Most likely, Jesus knew that the disciples' presuppositions about the nature, and mission of Messiah were so skewed that propagation of them would be disastrous for his ministry. In the next verses Jesus demonstrates that the Son of Man would not lead another Maccabean revolt, this time one with eternal sustenance. No, the Son of Man would not only not end imperial control of the people of God, but he would even be rejected by Israel itself. Peter, once again in flagrant grandiosity takes Jesus to school on the historic, orthodox doctrines of Jewish messiahship. Abruptly then, Jesus silences him on this once and for all.

It is clear that the disciples' theological imprecision was caused by the burden of their presuppositions. This was completely unacceptable to Jesus, and limited their participation in his cause. They did not remain in this state, though, by the sixteenth chapter Jesus gives the go-ahead for the eleven to “proclaim the gospel to the whole creation.” Therefore, in the time between the eighth chapter of Mark, and the sixteenth the disciples had gained enough theological accuracy for Jesus to grant them the privilege of proclamation.

Is there then possibility for theological precision? In measure, yes. Although, it comes almost always gradualy, and almost always (because of sin, and pressupositions) includes a significant paradigm shift. The Spirit, in the divine discourse that has been discussed, must help us take our minds off the things of man, and set them on the things of God, just as Jesus did for his disciples. That, I am assured, comes to us often accompanied by abrupt, and unsettling rebukes when we realize that we have come to Jesus trying to force him through our own rubrick. It seems that after this, though, we are left with a measure of truth.

If this is true, it is not presumptuous for our ministers to tell those outside the covenant that they must be born again. It is not presumptuous for us to encourage one another to specific forms of love, and good deads. It is not presumptuous for us to come boldly before the throne of God in prayer. We have the mind of Christ, and this of all things secures for us the potential for accurate theological reflection.