Near Emmaus


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Three hermeneutical paradigms to use when studying the doctrine of the virgin birth

Reading-the-Gospels-Wisely-Pennington-Jonathan-EB9781441238702I have been reading Jonathan T. Pennington‘s marvelous new book Reading the Gospels Wisely: A Narrative and Theological Introduction and it has helped me a lot when it comes to thinking about hermeneutics, particularly the function of the historical-critical/grammatical approach juxtaposed with literary readings and canonical/theological readings. In “Chapter Five: Texts and History: The Testimony of the Fourfold Witness” Pennington examines the historical-critical approach, explains it value, and critiques its weaknesses. For Pennington the danger of putting all our eggs into the historical-critical/grammatical basket is that this is limits our reading of the Gospels, refuses to listen to the Gospels as the Gospels are designed to be heard, and ignores the limitations of the historical-critical/grammatical hermeneutic (as well as recent criticisms from the field of philosophical hermeneutics, exemplified by the likes of Hans-Georg Gadamer and Paul Ricour to name a couple). The Gospels make claims that presuppose things like the existence of Israel’s God and you cannot appeal to deity when doing critical historical studies. There are some things that can be understood about Jesus through historical-critical study, but one can never reach the theological claims of the church through this approach. This is a danger Pennington thinks we must avoid, but he doesn’t think the answer to the problem of the historical-critical lens is one that abandons the importance of history like a Docetic Christology.  He writes:

“If we approach the Gospels only as repositories of grand theological ideas and ideals, divorced from the historical reality of the incarnation and the resurrection, then we lose the history. Yet if we (even as believers) draw near to the Gospels thinking we must abandon all orthodox, creedal, and ecclesial notions and constraints on our reading or, less strictly, at least grow our theological construction in pure historical soil, then we not only fool ourselves in these possibilities, but we also deny the canonical nature of the Gospels.” (Kindle Location 2354)

He concludes that the language of “testimony” as presented by Richard Bauckham is a better avenue upon which one can approach studying the Gospels from a confessional perspective. Testimony honors both the aim of these works as a form of bios claiming to speak about historical events as well as recognizing that the theological claims of the Gospels move into a new frontier making the Gospels a unique subcategory of bioi. Likewise, testimony doesn’t make the mistake of thinking that historiography ancient or modern can ever be anything but interpretive (i.e., never fully objective as some claim). Since all history is interpretation the Gospels as testimony about Jesus care about historical events as interpreted through the apostolic kerygma.

Jonathan T. Pennington

Jonathan T. Pennington

I won’t delve much further into Pennington’s argument against limiting ourselves to the historical-critical approach—because it would be unfair to the author for me to try to condense a very well written, thoughtful chapter into a short blog post—but I will (1) encourage you to read this book; (2) provide a book review on this blog when I finish it; and (3) share the approach Pennington suggest for people who read the Gospels both as testimony of historical events and Scripture.

Pennington advocates reading the Gospels from multiple hermeneutical paradigms. He writes, “…my goal in reading is interwoven with the biblical idea of wisdom more than the modern scientific idea of knowledge, understood narrowly and impersonally.” (Kindle Location 2431) So in “Chapter Six: Reading Holy Scripture Well” he provides “three avenues of reading” that I will share and then use as a way to approach studying the doctrine of the virgin birth so that you can understand where Pennington is trying to take his readers.

First, “Behind the Text” or Historical, which includes redaction, form, and source criticism, social-scientific criticism, historical criticism, grammatical-historical exegesis, and movements like the Quest(s) for the historical (historian’s) Jesus.

Second, “In the Text” or Literary, which focuses on literary criticism, genre analysis, narrative criticism, composition criticism, and intertextuality.

Third, “In Front of the Text” or Canonical/Theological, which includes the history of interpretation, reception, history, Wirkungsgeshichte, biblical theology, redemptive history, theological reading, Regula fidei, figural reading, and intertextuality.

Let’s examine the doctrine of the virgin birth from these angles. First, the “Behind the Text” approach aims to understand not the message of the text itself alone, but the culture within which it was proclaimed. Honestly, if we use traditional historical-critical criteria as found in academic discussion we will not arrive at a virgin birth because solutions that cannot be reached by means of methodological naturalism are disqualified immediately. In other words, when doing history in this context, we cannot say, “Well, yes, it is impossible for this to happen, but God…” This isn’t a bad thing, necessarily, if we acknowledge the “language game” in which we chose to partake if we do academic history. If a scholar of Islam happened to be a confessing Muslim we Christians would question his academic biography on the Prophet Muhammad if when s/he reached the tradition about the Prophet’s ascent into heaven s/he begged-the-question by telling readers, “This happened because Allah…” This is not to say that it is impossible in reality that Allah accepted the Prophet into heaven, but rather that there are limitations on doing academic history that attempt to prevent any and every suggestion from having the same value (e.g., the abduction of a famous person is easier explained as having a human protagonist, even if the mystery is never solved as to who did it, than it is an alien from space, even if the alien theory is theoretically possible it is not the most probable).

On the other hand, historical-grammatical readings of the text might have more wiggle-room when it comes to discussing the doctrine of the virgin birth. In fact, I propose that most evangelical scholars who delve into historical research do so from a historical-grammatical angle rather than a historical-critical one. In the words of Gadamer the difference is between approaching a text with the hermeneutical of suspicion over against the hermeneutic of trust. Christians, even when engaging these texts as historians, tend to give the authors to benefit of a doubt in a way that a scholar who is not a Christian is not likely to do. This is not to say that one is better or more objective in my opinion. There are strengths and weaknesses to both approaches. For example, if Jesus did not resurrect from the dead a confessional scholar is not likely to see this because of the presuppositions brought to the study of the proclaimed event. Likewise, a skeptical scholar is not likely to come to affirm the reality of the resurrection, even if it did happen, because of the presuppositions brought to the study of the proclaimed event. I don’t mean to say that it is “all relative”, but it is subjective, always.

The historical-grammatical reading aims to make sense of a proclaimed event by means of studying the historical context in which it was proclaimed (e.g., the resurrection can be understood as a event proclaimed to have happened in first century Judea, near Jerusalem, under Roman governance, and so forth, and honestly, the presuppositions with which one approaches this topic will likely inform how this historical data “functions”, just compare the works of people like Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan to others like N.T. Wright or Michael Licona). So when one studies the doctrine of the virgin birth through a historical-grammatical lens it might be one and the same with the historical-critical, or it may be from a confessional standpoint where the virgin birth is understood as something that did happen, and then the study of everything from ancient womanhood, birth practices, first century Bethlehem, and other factors will be considered.

The “In the Text” is not concerned with the historical events within which the doctrine of the virgin birth is proclaimed. Even the Synoptic Problem falls into the first category better, though there are points of contact. This second approach may study things like how the doctrine of the virgin birth is proclaimed in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke and how this claims fits into the immediate narrative and how that narrative fits into the larger message of the Gospel. This approach can be used by the atheist scholar who doesn’t find these Gospels to produce much truth as well as the pastor who is preparing a sermon for Sunday and who wants to make sure that s/he proclaims a particular text in such a way that the literary message is received by the audience. One could discuss how the doctrine of the virgin birth fits into the message of the beginning of the Gospel of Luke without ever discussing the archaeology of Bethlehem, the socio-cultural role of “shepherds” in the first century, and other elements that are “Behind the Text”, though very helpful to understanding the text itself.

Finally, we have the approach that is “In Front of the Text”, i.e., an acceptable presupposition that informs how we read a text. For example, if one reads the Gospel of Matthew from approaches one or two it doesn’t matter all that much whether the Old Testament canon ends with Malachi as we find in the Christian tradition or Chronicles as it does in most versions of the Hebrew Bible. In this third paradigm it does matter though because Malachi ends with a proclamation to remember the Law of Moses and a promise to send the prophet Elijah before the “Day of the Lord” (4:4-6) whereas the Gospel of Matthew begins with a genealogy of “Jesus the Messiah” (1:1), describes his birth of a virgin, the visit of the magi, the flight into Egypt, the slaughter of the innocents, and then we have “Elijah”, or John the Baptist preaching in the wilderness. If you use approaches one or two you want to read Luke-Acts together, but if you read it canonically you know that John recreates the contexts of Matthew, Mark, and Luke and ends the fourfold Gospel transitioning to Acts which moves through the sequence of three main figures—Jesus to Peter to Paul—which then escorts the reader into Romans, the gateway and interpretive key to the Pauline corpus. Canonically Matthew transitions readers from the Old Testament to the fulfillment of the Old Testament, Jesus. Acts transitions from Jesus to his authoritative apostles, including Paul, and validates the Pauline corpus that comes next (I owe these insights to Brevard Childs).

Is there a way (singular) to approach the Gospels? Pennington will suggest “no” if you are a Christian. I concur. If you are a Christian willing to discuss the “historian’s Jesus” then you must enter that language game knowing what you can and cannot say and prove about Jesus. The goal and aim is to show that some really important things can be said about Jesus, even through the limitations of modern critical historiography, e.g., Jesus was a first century Jew; Jesus was remembered as a miracle worker and an exorcist; Jesus was crucified; Jesus’ followers did not disperse but became convinced for some reason that the eschatological resurrection of the dead has an “already, but not yet” exception in Jesus of Nazareth and they were willing to die for their believe. All of this is fantastically interesting, but you can’t secure the confession that the Spirit has raised Jesus from the dead, or that Jesus has been made Lord and Christ, or that Jesus is the Logos of God, or that Jesus is the second person of the one God as Trinity.

I think the historical-critical method is immensely valuable, as does Pennington, but it does have limitations. It is a matter of epistemology (what can we “know” through the restraints of academic historiography?), rather than objective truth (the dozens upon dozens of historical Jesus models you will find should be sufficient evidence of this). Sometimes the use of the Gospels to get “Behind the Text” to the historical Jesus misleads us into misreading the Gospels themselves. We ignore the message of the evangelists about Jesus for some piece of solid footing upon which we can reconstruct Jesus. Again, this is good and necessary in certain venues, but it doesn’t determine truth.

Likewise, the third approach tells us a bit about how Christians should read Scripture as Christians in the ancient-to-contemporary community of the faithful. If we use the historical critical approach we may conclude that Mark as the earliest Gospel shows no interest in a virgin birth, so he did not know about it or (from a more skeptical view) the myth had not been invented when Mark was composed. Matthew received or invented the tradition somewhere. Luke received it somewhere, maybe from Matthew. John’s Logos Christology doesn’t need a virgin birth as long as you affirm that Jesus is the Son of God come from God the Father in heaven. A canonical/theological reading realizes that Mark doesn’t need the virgin birth if it doesn’t fit the literary message because the Spirit has provided this proclamation in Matthew and Luke, already, and that John’s Logos Christology should be interpreted canonically, meaning, the Logos of God entered this world through the virgin birth—this is the beginning of how Christians discuss Christology in the language of faith.

All three approaches have value. Where we Christians struggle at times is realizing that these different approaches are different language games sometimes intended for a variety of audiences. When we try to use the historical-critical method apologetically to “prove” something like the doctrine of the virgin birth we have gone the wrong direction, not because it didn’t happen in space-time history, but because historical-critical methodology includes the presupposition of methodological naturalism, something that can never “discover” a virgin birth anymore than one may have been able to discover Jesus was born of a virgin if his DNA was studied to examine the genetics of his “father”. We can believe in the doctrine of the virgin birth from a confessional perspective, and we may have decent reasons for believing it happened historically (e.g., Matthews awkward use of Isaiah 7:14 leads me to think Matthew already believed in the doctrine and he sought a passage of Scripture to support it, rather than he happened to read Isaiah 7:14 one day and thought, “This proves Jesus was born of a virgin!”), but we cannot prove it historical-critically, and that is OK. We must recover some comfort with speaking the language of faith and sometimes faith demands that we speak of things catholically, rather than individualistically, as if something can be true if and only if I can verify it through means that make me the final authority, rather than the church and the Scripture of the church.

 

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A philosopher’s analogy.

“Skeleton Man and Dog” (click for source)

I am (slowly) reading Introductory Metaphysics (1955) by A.R. Dulles, J.M. Demske, and R.J. O’Connell at the advice of my philosopher friend Jerome Wernow. In chapter five the authors are trying to explain the difference between essence and accidents. This is a philosopher’s analogy if I have ever read one:

“When a dog changes his posture, he has changed only accidently, and does not cease to be the same dog. But when he is run over by an automobile, he ceases to exist, and there exists in his place a heap of chemicals, which rapidly disintegrate (p. 59-60).”

There is your pleasant image of the day! Nothing explains the essence-accident distinction like the thought of a decomposing animal!


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Is knowledge like a building or a web? (Foundationalism v. Coherentism)

This blog has been a fantastic place to study “with” others. I am thankful for those readers who have taken the time to dialogue with me as I prepare for my oral exam next Wednesday the 21st. I ask that you continue to show grace toward me for a few more days as I expose my ignorance in hopes of becoming more educated. Today, I’d like to discuss the models of epistemology known as foundationalism and coherentism.


In the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (from “Epistemology”foundationalism is defined as follows:

“…our justified beliefs are structured like a building: they are divided into a foundation and a superstructure, the latter resting upon the former. Beliefs belonging to the foundation are basic. Beliefs belonging to the superstructure are nonbasic and receive justification from the justified beliefs in the foundation.”

Let’s use the example question, “How do I know that I exist?”

Some might argue that existence is a foundational belief. You don’t have to “prove” you exist. If you are asking “Do I exist?” then you must exist. I assume this doesn’t determine the nature of your existence. You could exist as a character in the dream of a deity, though your sense of self-awareness is a bit odd.

So existence is a “given” upon which you can build.

Coherentism is defined in the same article as follows:

“Knowledge and justification are structured like a web where the strength of any given area depends on the strength of the surrounding areas. Coherentists, then, deny that there are any basic beliefs. As we saw in the previous section, there are two different ways of conceiving of basicality.”

There is no “given” foundational belief. Again, let us ask, “How do I know that I exist?” Rather than assuming existence you have a series of ways of know that inform you that you exist and that affirmation that you exist informs other things you know. You know one thing because of your knowledge and beliefs about several other things.

If you were to “picture” these models foundationalism would be a house and coherentism a web. Foundationalism teaches that there are certain givens upon which you can build. Coherentism teaches that all beliefs are in a network dependent upon one another so that you always have multiple other reasons for affirming a given idea.

What would you say is the system that makes the most sense to you? Would you propose another? 


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Where does philosophy meet theology and where do they part ways?

Raphael's 'School of Athens' (Scuola di Atene)

Yesterday I had the privilege of eating lunch with Dr. Jerome Wernow. He is a philosopher and bioethicist. Even more importantly, he has proven to be a good friend and mentor. As always our conversations transcend small talk quite quickly moving into subjects that are far beyond my ability to address. Since we are both Christians we bring our religion into the discussion. Yesterday we chatted about language games, evolution and the biblical narrative, the doctrine of regeneration, and what it means to exist in eternity (static perfection or perfecting perfection?). As I said, I know enough to avoid sounding like an idiot.

As a Christian it is difficult to divorce theology from philosophy. When Jerome and I had our nerdy dialogue we were able to address particular philosophers and philosophies briefly without connecting them to Christianity. One can bracket their faith for a time, but like those who do historiographical studies on Scripture it is inevitable that one’s religious commitments will become visible. This leads to today’s discussion if you’re willing to join:

Where does philosophy meet theology and where do they part ways?

In other words, what characterizes these two disciples? 

I would say that one is done within a tradition and one without, but that is misleading. As the postmodernists exposed, western philosophy is not free-thinking rationality. It is not universalized thought. It finds itself within a very specific, eurocentric worldview. It could be argued that one begins with “rationality” and the other “revelation” and that would be an interesting paradigm within which to work, though one thing that makes me nervous is when Christian theologians act as if their thought is pure and free from philosophy. Anyways, let me stop rambling so you can talk!


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The philosophy of The Help (your feedback is wanted).

The Help

I might have the opportunity to discuss the movie The Help with John Perry and Ken Taylor of Philosophy Talk for their upcoming 2012 Dionysus Awards episode where they discuss the most philosophical movies of the last year. I will find out in a week or so if I am chosen. When they asked for submissions I proposed The Help because it presents interesting insights into race relations and how people of different races interpret stories. Even if I don’t get this opportunity I thought it would be something worth discussing here if you’ve seen the film or read the book.

I apologize beforehand regarding these generalizations, but they are the best way I know to compare how different people groups/audiences interpreted the film: 

If you self-identify as being of European descent please tell me and answer these questions:

(1) Did you enjoy the movie?

(2) Did you think it was a fair depiction of race relations in the United States at that time?

(3) Did you identify Skeeter Phelan who combated racism or the others who promoted it?

If you self-identify as being of African descent please tell me and answer these questions:

(1) Did you enjoy the movie?

(2) Did you think it was a fair depiction of race relations in the United States at that time?

(3) How did you feel about the primary character being Skeeter Phelan (the journalist)? Or did you view one of the other characters as the primary character of the story?

If you self-identity as being of some other descent please tell me and answer these questions:

(1) Did you enjoy the movie?

(2) Did you think it was a fair depiction of race relations at that time?

(3) Did you feel connected or disconnected to the story and the characters?

There are no wrong answers here. I know this is very subjective and I’d like to hear your thoughts.


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The philosophy of The Walking Dead.

AMC's The Walking Dead

I finished season one of AMC’s The Walking Dead this week. I enjoy this show because of the philosophical implications of the meta-narrative. For those who are unfamiliar with the show it is about a post-apocalyptic world where most of humanity has been either killed or turned into zombies. Thus far there has not been an explanation by the storytellers as to how the whole planet seems to have been devastated, so you have to start at the place that it is simply the case.

There are many things to ponder when watching the show:

First, could a zombie apocalypse happen? We’ve seen it in nature already. There are “zombie ants” controlled by fungi and honeybees controlled by parasites (see the National Geographic article ” ‘Zombie’ Ants Found with New Mind-Control Fungi” or the Discovery News article “Fly Parasite Turns Honeybees into ‘Zombies’ “). So the concept of humans becoming zombies is not as far fetched as some may suggest.

Second, how would a zombie apocalypse happen? We’ve seen humanity panic 0ver HIV/AIDS, bird flue, swine flu, and other diseases which provided us with possible dooms-day scenarios. How would such a thing wipe out humanity of a large portion of humanity? Does it have to be air-born (which runs contrary to common zombie narratives)? Would it be an overreaction against a disease where the vaccine created actually contributes to the spread of the disease?

Third, in what sense are zombies human? This is the most interesting question: What makes a human really human? If the heart stops does someone cease to be human? If the frontal cortex ceases to function is someone no longer human? Does a human exist without their body? Does the body define a human?

Fourth, if humanity is at risk what are the precautions against the cessation of our species? While humans may seek to support and protect each other in such a scenario what happens if a person is scratched or bit by a zombie, yet there has been no obvious evidence of infection? Is it best to kill that person for the sake of the group (a sort of apocalyptic utilitarianism) or does their current preservation of their humanity demand that we try to save them until it is obvious that they are infected?

Fifth, if you are bit by a zombie is suicide permissible? In many zombie scenarios a bullet through the head prevents zombies from functioning. If you are bit and you know you may become the walking dead is it OK to kill yourself as a measure of prevention both against future suffering and the use of your body to do evil?

What are your thoughts on these matters? Have you watched the show? Do other philosophical scenarios come to mind?