He Gets It

This is what is going on when we read a Scriptural text. The infusion of theological meaning into a cultural situation in order to present God’s take on the matter. Professors should ask their students to do this and show them the parallels with the texts they are reading. The students are doing exactly what the ancient peoples did. The only that remains to be discussed are the roles of prophet, revelation, and inspiration – but none detract from the basic principle of understanding religious texts.

Update

He gets it too

Fallible Criteria

Michael Barber is Singing about the criteria most often used by historians, and I am finding a lot of truth in what he says. At the moment I am reading through a critique of NT Wright’s Jesus and the Victory of God. And I just finished Michael Borg’s critique of Wright, which is basically a whole different set of presuppositions about how to do history. And they are all fair.

In discussing the parable of the Vineyard and its historicity, Michael shares the most common points for which this parable is assigned to the construction by the later Church, and not Jesus:

1. That the “the son” is rejected and killed would seem to point to a post-Easter setting.
2. The implications of the parable are that Jesus is the son of the vineyard, i.e., the Son of God. This is also said to most likely reflect the theology of the early church.
3. In the parable the judgment on the tenants comes only after the “son” is killed. This highlights the unique importance of Jesus and thus also seems to point towards the early community’s view.
4. The destruction that comes as a result suggests a setting after the destruction of Jerusalem.
5. The son is depicted as the final climax, being sent only after other messengers have been killed. This is said to make little sense―why would a father send his son into such a situation? The language is only explicable if one sees Jesus as the climax of salvation history―as the one who comes after all the prophets, a view most see as more likely the product of the early church than Jesus himself.
6. The image of the vineyard being handed over to others is said to point to a period after the “parting of the ways”—i.e., to some belief that God has rejected Israel in favor of the Church.

He goes on to answer those specific points, so if you are interested in those, please jump on over there for them. However, I wanted to step back, since this is exactly what Borg’s take on the situation is. He cannot, based on the probability, assign certain things as going back to Jesus. There is an inherent problem here.

The basic logic works as Michael has described, sayings are attributed to the early Church based on their proclamation of it. However, no one disputes whether or not the early Church said Jesus was the Son of God. Therefore, whether Jesus said it or not, there is always a reason, and it is a very good reason, to expect an at best even, often a higher probability of the Church saying it. If we are making decisions based on probability we are going to have a problem. Because Jesus could never have said anything the Church did say, according to this method. It is always better to err on the side of caution saying the “The Church put that in the Scripture, it did not come from the mouth of Jesus”.

Of course I am not saying anything new here, NT Wright went on about exactly these fallible historical criteria in his book. The strange issue is that no one is talking about the validity of his own criteria, specifically the criterion of similarity and dissimilarity – which would seem to do a much better job of highlighting whether or not Jesus did, or did not say something historically. Simply put, if the words are similar to Judaism, yet suggest a difference in interpretation, while at the same time being similar to the later Church, while being either never fully carried out/implemented or simply dropped to the extent spoken of, there is a high probability it was spoken by Jesus, rather than created by the Church. It would seem to me that this method would do far better justice to the evidence. With the other method you have, at best, a coin-flip: “It really could have been either one”, and at worst “That is exactly what the Church said, therefore I have no confidence Jesus said it”. It boils down to this. One would expect some continuity between Judaism and Jesus, and Jesus and the Church. If Jesus really did not say anything the Church proclaimed he said – well you really do have a big historical problem on your hands. How in the wide-world did the Church come to be? (And there are serious people working on this problem: “How did the Church come to exist given that miracles do not occur, Jesus never claimed to be the messiah, and was not resurrected”). That historical problem, I would think, should scare historians rather than a small chance of a false-positive that Jesus did not in fact say something we think he did.

On Reading Scripture

Reading any literary piece is both a science and an art. It requires discipline, as well as creativity. Many of the principles here are applicable to any literature. That goes for holy texts as well. Here we’re looking at the Christian Scriptures. You could easily use this for other religious texts (though for ahistorical works like Buddhism the historical method is far less important). When reading a contemporary novel you won’t recognize that you’re doing these methods – but you really are. On a side note these methods are also exactly why fantasy (Chronicles of Narnia, Lord of the Rings) and sci-fi (Battlestar Galactica) is such a ready medium for displaying moral and ethical dilemmas and dramas that challenge us in our life. In short, the method is threefold; history, worldview, and exegesis.

History

When reading texts about ancient religions in history we need an appropriate historical method. We have to recognize what we are reading was not written with our expectations in mind (When talking about fantasy and sci-fi, as above, our expectations are in mind). We have to start with history. We have to understand (as best we can) the social, cultural, political and religious climates we are dealing with. We do this by reading both insider, and outsider information: that is material written by people about themselves, and material written by others about the people we are studying. Both sides are incredibly valuable, especially when you consider the worldviews of both peoples (presuming they are different, and we’re not talking about a purely sectarian thing). History involves the study of both individuals and people groups. It involves the study of their motivations and goals. This is not to say we are talking about psychology at all. It is a plain thing for a person to reveal their goal and motivation by their actions. Not to mention we have to apply that at the level of a whole (or part of a) cultural people. What is Israels’ motivation? What is Rome’s? To what end? All this requires both disciples, to be understandable in their worldview, and creativity, to be imaginative enough when our authors don’t write out all the steps taken for us. To presume that the writers’ purpose was to lay out, for us, all their logic and steps like a math problem is just that, a presumption. We need to eliminate these common expectations of ours.

Worldview

There is famous CS Lewis quote (you might have seen it on Vineyard church advertisements:

I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.

This is the epitome of a definition for ‘worldview’. Worldview is assumed. It is the very context of how you look at the world. You look at the world “through” worldview. Worldview is affected by so many different things – even generations within the same country. To imagine that any biblical character has the same worldview as you is, to be kind, absurd. In the many ways I am like my Father, I don’t even have the same worldview as him, and he raised me. There are four elements that make up worldview:

• Praxis (your practice)
• Symbols (icons)
• Stories
• Questions

These questions are further broken down:

• Who are we?
• Where are we?
• What is wrong?
• What is the solution?

The answers to these questions are informed, debated, and reformed by the previous praxis, symbols, and stories. Those are the raw materials of answering these questions. What we witness in the New Testament is the ‘debate’. We see Paul, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, all using their natural resources; the symbols of the present day, (e.g. a coin with Caesar on it), the biblical stories they have known and reflected on (e.g. the Exodus and entering into rest from Hebrews, Jesus as Moses in the gospels), and their own praxis (e.g. the Last Supper as a Passover meal, transformed with new meaning) to answer these worldview questions. And the answers, based on their life experience with Jesus, and the resurrected Jesus, and the community are very different than any other Jewish sect.

There are so many other peculiarities of worldview, and other specific questions related to the stories and history of Israel that have cropped up in Jewish writings. This is why the Dead Sea Scrolls were such an important find. It gave us so much more information about how the Jewish people of the Second Temple period used their stories, symbols, and practice, to come up with different – but all Jewish – ways to answer these questions.

Exegesis

When reading any literature we have to realize what genre we are reading. Within the Christian cannon there are several genres; mythological narrative, historical narrative, poetry and song, prophetic narrative, and apocalyptic narrative. The entire Bible is not historical narrative, and we cannot do justice to its writers and inspirer to read it all the same way. Furthermore, the questions that are being answered by the writers are the questions based on the worldview. Since your worldview is different – your questions will not be directly found in the text. The Scriptures do not directly address the immediate questions of 21st century Western people. It could not possible do so directly. The more and more we submit ourselves to the Christian worldview the New Testament puts forth (that is, to put down our cross of our own worldview) the more and more we will see answers to the right questions, as we make those questions our own.

Using these three elements

To use these three elements appropriately is the goal of study. To not lean on any one, at the loss of another is hard to do. A comprehensive reading of the text in question needs to maximize for these things:

• Fitting all the data
• Simplicity of thought
• Sheds light on other areas

If you can’t fit all the data into your approach and method, then a mistake has been made. If all the data fits, but there is no possible way my conclusions could have been reached by the historical figures (data beyond their knowledge, or language beyond their knowlege) in the way I’ve outlined, then a mistake has been made. If the results of the method do not shed light on any other unilluminated areas, then something has been missed. The best way to accomplish this goal is by starting large and vague.

Take the period of Second Temple Judaism up until Christianity. Examine their worldview and writings. Examine their various answers to the questions. Mark out fixed, but sufficiently vague, points. Take the history in the same manner. Mark out fixed, but sufficiently vague points about kings, client-rulers, their misdeeds, wars, and revolutions. Mark areas before and after the time period you’re studying. Don’t mark your time period! Put down verifiable data that must be started from, and must be met on the end. A good example that must be explained by any Christian origins study is this remarkable statement made:

Eighty and six years have I now served Christ, and he has never done me the least wrong: How then can I blaspheme my King and my Savior? Polycarp 186AD at his martyrdom

Whatever your reconstruction of Jesus and early Christianity, you must explain this fixed point with it, loyalty to Jesus over Caesar in the face of death, and specifically in that manner – King and Savior. That is just one point, there are many others.

Arguments that fail to show any knowledge of the above are lacking when we begin to talk about anything historical or theological in relation to the Scriptures. There is plenty of freedom in devotional writing. But when it comes to theology and history there are certain bars that must be met. Failure to meet them means the idea is dismissed. That is just how the study works. I hope that we can continue to strive to meet the rigors of the study.

From Death

Ben Myers talking about:

William Stringfellow’s theological writing is pervaded by the conviction that the resurrection of Jesus frees us from the dominion of death. The world is ruled by principalities – by suprahuman, suprapersonal institutional powers which bind human life to the service of death. But the gospel sets us free to live and work within these institutions as servants of Christ; we are freed from the dominion of the principalities, since the resurrection of Christ frees us from the fear of death. Since death is the only power with which the principalities can threaten us, we have nothing whatsoever to fear! This, for Stringfellow, is the gospel; this is the Christian life.

I haven’t gotten so far yet to be able to do pure theology like this. I’m forced by method to start with the history. And looking at the history I see it perfectly valid that Jesus’ actions fall directly into this category. When he is healing this is what he is doing. When he is feeding, this is what he is doing. When he is dying on the cross this is what he is doing. It brings the resurrection to the forefront, the ultimate vindication of Jesus’ message. Without resurrection, Jesus is another failed prophet, as Schweitzer would say.

This idea explains why the Gospel message is subversive to the politics in the first century. It explains, in the realm of inaugurated eschatology, why a community would form around this resurrection. It explains the actions of such a community like the early Church in the world around them, well into the second and third centuries.

History is the study of how things came to be. There is no doubt that events led down a certain path. History, with the appropriate method and hermaneutic can show us how things went down that path. Theology is something else. Theology is derived from action, from words, and from God.

The Tyranny of Context

This is another cross-category post, but a very important one I find, you’ll notice the tag line on this site “‘Texts matter, but contexts matter even more’ – Apply liberally”. I do mean to apply this principle liberally, to everything I can find. To theology, to programming, to design, to life, to everything.

We are bound very tightly to the context in which we live. We are bound so tightly we do not realize it. This is why new experiences and new places are so formative for people. When you have no context for a new experience it is thrilling and exciting and you end up creating a context for it.

As this post talks about the context of technology in your life. Some people ridicule, from the objective perspective, technologies affect on people and society, but fail to recognize that in their own life – in its context.

Putting the context behind a historical figure (like Jesus for instance) illuminates his actions. You can do that with any historical figure, and it is necessary to do that when you study them. Without the context you are creating your own context based on yourself and your situation, rather than on the historical figure. No wonder it creates confusion and a lack of understanding.

Putting the context behind design matters as well. This post at 37signals just goes to show the unintended consequences of decoration. The decoration created a context that made things confusing.

Always pay attention to the context.

Jesus at the Center

Check out the next Glad Tidings article. Leave comments about it here.

Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews

The book by Paula Fredrickson, of the same title, is an astounding short read. It is an attempt to understand the crucifixion of Jesus historically. Why did the Jewish rabbi named Jesus die the death of a violent revolutionary? Of course the simple answer would be that he was a violent revolutionary – yet absolutely no direct evidence remotely hints that he was. All indications are that Jesus led a peaceful, arguably pacifist, movement. Fredrickson notes that if Jesus did lead a violent revolutionary movement, his followers along with him would have been crucified. James, the new leader of this movement lived in Jerusalem after the crucifixion. He moved freely there with no worry for his life. This is the fundamental paradox Fredrickson seeks to answer.

In the beginning of the book she briefly moves through the various methodological blunders that have taken the reins of the historical quests. I’m not entirely sure how to take certain portions of her writing. It is almost as if she willfully attempts various methodologies, liberal and fundamentalist to solves the problems but only gets frustrated. I cannot sort out what could be sarcasm from what could be a severe disdain for certain conclusions (regardless of method). By the end of the book she is fully engaged in, what I acknowledge to be based on other works of historical inquiry, the right kind of historical method.

The traditional explanation to the crucifixion is to follow the synoptic accounts. Jesus’ actions in the Temple are the direct reason for Jesus’ death by Pilate. Jerusalem during the feast of Passover was an intense time because of both the increased Roman military presence, and the heightened eschatalogical hope for salvation of the Jewish people. So, the slightest Jewish aggression would have incurred a Roman military response. The theory goes that Jesus’ actions in the Temple would have given the ruling Jewish aristocrasy a reason to get the Romans involved.

Fredrickson goes on to show why this fails for two reasons. First, another notable Jerusalem Jew Jesus ben Hanan, spoke of the Temple’s coming destruction – for seven years during all of the feasts. He was not put to death. He received punishment by both the Jewish ruling class and the Romans and was left to continue. Second, Jesus’ actions in the Temple would barely have been noticed by the throngs of people there. The temple mount is three football fields wide. The market is on one side under the porticos. Roman soldiers would have been stationed on the elevated porticos. Only the immediate masses around Jesus would have seen his actions, and only the Roman soldiers some sixty-plus yards away would have seen him. Combining these two facts, it would be historically unlikely that Jesus was crucified for this one action. So where do we go from here?

Fredrickson does a good job setting the scene of Jewish apocalyptic hope. I’m not sure if she retains the idea that the Jewish, and subsequently Christians, believed in the coming “end of the world”, or (what is gaining traction with me) the other understanding of apocalyptic literature, investing current events with theological significance through the use of cosmic and symbolic imagery. She also does a good job showing that there are various traditions behind the concepts of Kingdom, the Gentile participation, and Messiah. They all float on continums and gradients with various teachers and sects putting in their stakes at certain points along the way. Fredrickson does a fantastic job highlighting the relationship between Galilee, Jerusalem, and their respective rulers leading up to the time of Jesus, some of which brilliantly runs against current thinking on the subject. And in another brilliant turn she goes to the gospel of John, long thought to be the least historical, to find an answer to her perplexing question of Jesus’ crucifixion.

John’s basic structure depicts a wandering itinerant preacher Jesus, active for three years, with followers all over Israel, in Galilee, Jerusalem, Bethany, and more cities. The fair presumption here is that Herod of Galilee and Pilate of Jerusalem would have known who this Jesus is. He made regular appearances in synogagues and the Temple in Jerusalem. He did not hide from public life. In another interesting twist Fredrickson chooses not to see things from Jesus’ perspective here, but rather from Pilate’s! Because Pilate knows who Jesus is, there is no threat. Jesus has not actively sought to build an army. He has not actively made a messianic claim (no doubt some of his followers could have, and did, come to this conclusion. Again, she does not go towards Jesus’ self-understanding, Pilate couldn’t have cared less.) She writes “A straight line connects the Triumphal Entry and the Crucifixion.” Pilate witnessing this would not immediately be afraid of Jesus. He doesn’t see Jesus having any power. He knows that Jesus preaches a Kingdom which God will usher in, not the might of men. Surely other messianic claimants like Theudas the Egyptian made the same claim. Yet he also gathered thousands in the desert on marches re-enacting Joshua’s military entry into the promised land over the Jordan. Gathering crowds like this got Rome’s attention and they got rid of Theudas. However, Jesus never gathered crowds out in the desert like that. Yes, he baptized and fed. But nothing that wasn’t near a city where the people were from, or outside an already present congregation like the Temple or synogague. Fredrickson argues that precisely because of the crowds reaction to Jesus’ Triumphal Entry, laden with messianic tones, Pilate found it necessary to crucify Jesus. Again, it is passover and this is the time that sedition is most likely to break out. The people don’t even need a messianic figure to get started – and now they think they’ve found one. This satisfies how Jesus was crucified as an insurrectionist and his disciples were not. Because Pilate was not directly challenged, militarily, by the Jesus movement. Only indirectly by the claims of the masses on Passover. It was the crowd Pilate needed to control, and he did it by crucifying their newest messiah.

I find this line of argumentation, historically, to be very very persuading. It is no means a conclusive statement on Jesus’ identity, I don’t think it was intended to be. But it is very persuasive, and would require strong argumentation to dislodge, concerning the historical means of crucifixion.

On other accounts of theology, and Jesus’ self-identity, I don’t see any conflicts that this line brings up. It creatively uses the perspective of Pilate to understand Pilate’s own actions. And it has to do this in the first century Jewish context. It succeeds on both points. Having said that, I find myself very persuaded by NT Wright’s line of argumentation concerning Jesus’ self-identity. His work is equally historically focused, but from the perspective of Jesus himself. The only interesting point of integration required is the always sticky synoptic problem of where to put the Temple scene: with John in the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, or with the synoptics, at the end. Bauckham’s work is giving John’s gospel a more vaulted place as history than is traditionally given to it. Certainly, the gospel of John isn’t any worse off (from a literary point of view) “getting Jesus crucified” without the Temple incident. And all of the synoptics include the Triumphal Entry. The argument of where it appropriately belongs may very well be less valuable than thought, if it is not a requirement for his crucifixion, where, again, in John it is not a requirement.