Monday, June 6, 2011

Biblical Criticism vs. Systematic Theology: A Case for a Higher View of Both

Biblical Studies and Theological Studies have been at war for almost 300 years, both civil, each with tribes within its own borders warring for the throne of definition, method, and object, and interdisciplinary, each fighting over to whom the scepter of Scripture rightfully belongs. For liberalism indeed entered the study of Scripture with Gabler’s address in 1787, yet death reigned from Gabler to Geerhardus Vos, who showed us the types of the one who came. Yet until Vos, biblical studies was a mere glorified historical sociology, being critical of the divine nature of Scripture. In theology, from Calvin to Bavinck to Van Til, God was the principium essendi (essential foundation, as in "essense"), and therefore his revelation as the principium cognescendi (foundation of knowledge) as his revelation in Scripture and creation were the determinative organic foundation for theological studies. From Kant to Schleiermacher to Lindbeck, principia become pretentious, and articulia (articles, or confessions) become the normative sphere of theology.


Now, if principia precede our consideration, and articulia proceed from our consideration, the question we must answer is: “Is systematic theology (henceforth ST) a principium or articuli?” “Does ST come before Scripture or after Scripture?” If it is an articuli, I can criticize it to death if it so pleases my principium. But there must be a principium on the basis of which I criticize it. If I appeal to the authority of Scripture as a principium to justify my criticism of ST (as an articuli), then I must provide a rationalization for its authority that is non-systematic theological by the nature of its critical stance toward ST. On the other hand, if ST is a principium, then it is the foundation for knowledge, and escapes criticism. Principia cannot be criticized, because if one forfeits the authority of a principium, he must either be standing on another principium or has forsaken principia altogether, upon which occasion there is nothing to be critical of. Criticism is allegiance, and allegiance is submission to something.


The biblical theologian will often err by relegating ST to a confessional corner. The systematic theologian will often err by maintaining that ST (as an articuli) is the principium, even for the authority of Scripture. The former is a disregard for principia altogether, and the latter is Roman Catholicism. Where is the resolution?


Bavinck puts it perfectly when he speaks of the divisions of ST: “[T]he order that is theological and at the same time historical-genetic in character deserves preference. It, too, takes its point of departure in God and views all creatures only in relation to him. But proceeding from God, it descends to his works, in order through them again to ascend to and end in him. So in this method as well, God is beginning, middle, and end.” (1:112) For Bavinck, then, there is an ordo theologia. It begins with God as the principium essendi (“it...takes its point of departure in God and views all creatures only in relation to him”), proceeds from that to the inerrant scriptures (and therein biblical theology as redemptive history) as the principium cognescendi (“it descends to his works, in order through them again to ascend to and end in him”), and ends with ST occurring again, but as an articuli fidei. And so, ST is “from Him and through Him and to Him” (Rom. 11:36).


My hope in writing this is that students of Scripture might finally take a stand for ST. Too often, lip service to ST as a bunch of “necessary theological presuppositions,” conceived of as mere articuli only, passes for an exegete’s Christian duty, fulfilled to let the big boys do the heavy interpretive lifting. Quite the contrary, the only reason that ST as an articuli means anything is because ST as principium essendi is the foundation for Scripture as principium cognescendi. Too often, we hear the rally cry “Sola Scriptura” by those who forget that (1) “Sola Scripture” is an interpretive tradition, and (2) “Sola Scriptura” is one of five “Solas,” perhaps the most important, and most hermeneutically relevant, being “Solus Christus” (not “Solo Christo”). Scripture is not the ultimate principium. God as the principium essendi is the ultimate principium, and to honor Him, the progressive nature of the principium cognescendi must not be seen as warrant to rip it out of the hands of God himself, to separate the two.


More particularly and simply, Scripture is either inspired by God and inerrant, or not inspired and impossible to understand. The fact that some evangelical scholars today reject inerrancy blows my mind. Hear this clearly: If you see Scripture as a problem to fix, you will never fix it. There are too many possible historical reconstructions, text-critical issues, form-critical developments, source-critical contradictions, and, plainly, too many historical, literary, sociological, and ideological weeds between the reader and God, in which case either (1) God is an incompetent communicator and has not provided men the sufficient means to be learned unto salvation, or (2) God does something extra scriptura in which case we encounter God through Scripture, but not as though the words themselves are inspired (Barth, contemporary TI movement), which takes its legs out from under itself by saying “There is no principium cognescendi, only the principium essendi,” in which case interpreters are wasting their time. Bavinck rightly asserts, “The foundations of faith (principia fidei) are themselves articles of faith (articuli fidei), based not on human arguments and proofs but divine authority.” (1:109)


Regarding inerrancy, then, Scripture is either our principium cognescendi or it is not. Contemporary trends in theology like to settle into whatever word of Rom. 11:36 fits them best, whether it is “from Him” (only essendi, Barth), “through Him” (only cognescendi, rejection of inerrancy), or “to Him” (only articuli, Frei, Lindbeck), when in reality, God calls us through Christ to accept all three (John 17:13-19) and believe that Scripture is God’s holy, inspired, and therefore inerrant word given for us Solus Christus.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Fantasizing and the Glory of God

We fantasize a lot. From grandiose Hollywood productions of “[Insert name]: The Most Kick-Ass Person Who Ever Lived” to microsecond-long vacations from reality to a world we make in our own minds. A world where we get a little more appreciation for the day-to-day things we do. A world where things go our way.


But does fantasizing bring glory to God? There seems to be a fundamental mutual exclusivity between the two. Someone might say, “Yes! I dream about doing great things for God!” I’m not talking about godly ambitions for the future. Fantasizing is the best present manifestation of our present desires we can muster when our desires aren’t met in reality. Someone might still say, “I can fantasize about my present desire for God to be glorified being manifested in the present.” But let’s be honest. (1) How many of our fantasies are about God getting all the glory? (2) Paul says, “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” (1 Cor. 10:31) So, if God is glorified in the most menial tasks of life, there is no need for fantasy, because our desire for God to be glorified is met in our desiring that he be glorified in everything in reality. He is really glorified in the lowliest and most insignificant daily tasks. Breathing. Blinking. Eating. To him. His glory is real, not fantastical.


The point is that our fantasies are our “quiet-times” devoted to ourselves. They are prayers that our wills would be done, whether God likes it or not, in reality to some degree as it is in our crooked hearts. In fantasies the world goes to the greatest lengths to satisfy our will for our own glory; in reality, we all we need to do is “set [our] minds on the things that are above [where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God]” (Col. 3:2,[1b]), because the promise is that the glory of Christ is real and those thoughts will be shown to be real on the last day, for “when Christ, who is [our] life appears, then [we] also will appear with him in glory.” (3:4) Our fantasies will never appear in glory; to set our minds on Christ is not to fantasize, for it is to set our minds on the true one (Titus 1:2), who is the only glorious one (Rom. 11:36), is to know His fantasy, which is reality (Rom. 11:33-36; 1 Cor. 2:11-16).


To close, we know that God knows our thoughts (even our fantasies; “Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O LORD, you know it altogether.” Psalm 139:4), but the question we need to ask ourselves is: “Do we know God in our thoughts? Or do we only know ourselves?” Do we finish the Psalm as David does, praying, “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” (139:23-24)? When we “be” (as Zuber puts it), do we “be” in God’s world under the covenant of Grace, or do we “be” with one foot in reality and one foot in a fantastical world where we are the hero? Where we deserving. Where we have rights. Where we are the creators. Do we have a place we’ve created where we can escape to and say with the Trainman, “Here, I make the rules. Here, I’m God.”

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Why Stuff Means Stuff (Previously “Why Reader’s Response Hermeneutics Destroys the Reader”)

There are certain categories which designate the roles of the entities of the hermeneutical drama. An author creates the meaning. The text is the means by which the author formulates, articulates, and communicates the meaning. The reader is the one who receives the meaning.

Now, any number of Reader Response (RR) interpretive theories might say: “By defining a reader as a mere receptor, you have already stacked the methodological deck in your favor!” Perhaps. But I’m not the one who stacked the deck. The hermeneutical mechanism existed before me, and according to my God, finds its origin in the very mind of the Trinity (John 1:1-3; Col. 1:15-20; John 17:7-8).

However, here is the reason why it’s okay to designate these specific definitions to these specific words: They don’t mean anything to begin with! “Reader” just means someone who encounters a “text,” which, according to Hirsch, can be more than just words, and is, in fact, the entire world! And so, if the entire world is a text, and Schleiermacher’s literary and psychological hermeneutical circles propose that every author is just reorganizing material from the text of his language and experience, then there is no difference between an author and a reader! A reader is just a consciousness that encounters a reorganized text, which is exactly what the author had to do with his language, location, experience, conceptual categories, etc. In the conversation of philosophical hermeneutics, at the bare-bottom level of semantics, in the philosophical-hermeneutical discussion, there is no difference between the author and the reader! There are only “text-encounterers.” Therefore, I have every right define “author,” “reader,” “text,” context,” “cotext,” or anything else however I want to, because it has been done so poorly by everyone in the conversation!

IF YOU DON’T WANT TO READ THIS WHOLE THING, JUST SKIP TO THIS PART.

In the “reader-response” hermeneutical in-crowd (I’m not just talking Derrida and Foucault; I’m talking Jewish, Liberation, Feminist, Post-colonial, etc.), by prioritizing the “reader” above the “author,” according to the definitions layed out above, and also demonstrated in the ambiguity of their own terms, there is no such thing as a reader! If it is up to the reader to determine the meaning of the text, he BECOMES the author. If it is just a “meaning in the text,” then the hermeneutical scholar who determines the rules for finding the meaning becomes the author!

My point is that these basic semantics of the hermeneutical conversation explicate the true nature of most philosophical-hermeneutical views. If they are RR, they actually UNDERMINE what a reader really is, and create a world with only authors. This is significant because the very question that started the RR movement was the authority of the author over the meaning of the text! So RR actually comes full circle back to authorial intent. Although they would not say that each "reader" (author in denial) determines any sort of single meaning, in the RR hermeneutic, he is designated authority, and does act pseudo-authorially in his approach to text, and therefore, by converting his receptivity into “authority,” he forfeits the very thing (receptivity) that makes him a reader.

I’m not making a case for a positivist approach to hermeneutics. Jut demonstrating that philosophy is actually a lot easier than it looks, and once basic words have basic definitions, “complicated” philosophical views are shown to be very basic and obviously incoherent.

Final Remarks: I’m not saying that there is not a subjective element to hermeneutics. There certainly is. When we distinguish between sense (meaning, origination), application (instantiation, manifestation), and import (the maintaining of the consistent correspondence between meaning and instantiation), there is room for the objective and the subjective. However, this note is WAY too long already, because you are already tired of reading it. Final challenge to all of us:

Have an understanding of language and hermeneutics that accounts for these theological phenomena:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made.” –John 1:1-3 (There was not a grammatical or historical context from which or into which God spoke the words of creation, yet the reader—material creation—perfectly responded to the precise intention of God’s mind, the sole determiner of the nature of created reality).

“Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power.” –Heb. 1:1-3 (To know Christ is to accept the Father’s interpretation of himself; how could we “read in” pre-conceived notions of a category which would be entirely unknown to us except by God’s revelation itself?)

“For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account.” –Heb. 4:12-13 (God effectively instantiates His objective word in the heart of the reader)