“It is from this root — the culturally conditioned ‘Bible wars’ of the Western culture, not least in North America — that the polarization of current debates has emerged. it is in that context, again, that one hears it said frequently that all reading of scripture is a matter of interpretation, with the implication that one person’s interpretation is as good as another’s. This is of course a variation on the classic postmodern position that there are no such things as texts, only interpretations, since when I read a text it ‘becomes’ something different from what it ‘becomes’ when you read it . . . .
“This is demonstrably flawed. It can be shown, and many (including myself) have attempted to do so, that a ‘critical realist’ reading can take the postmodern critique fully on board and still come back wiht a strong case for a genuinely historical understanding. . . .
“Biblical scholarship is a great gift of God to the church, aiding it in its task of going ever deeper into the meaning of scripture and so being refreshed and energized for the tasks to which we are called in and for the world. Many churches, including my own, have retained the Reformers’ emphasis on the ‘literal sense’ of scripture, not in the sense of ‘taking everything literally’ but in the sense of ‘discovering what the writers meant’ as opposed to engaging in free-floating speculation. As I pointed out earlier, the ‘literal sense’ means the sense originally intended; thus, ascertaining the ‘literal sense’ of a parable involves recognizing it as a parable, not an anecdote about something which actually happened. Getting at the original sense of scripture is an ongoing task for scholar, preacher and ordinary reader alike.”
N. T. Wright, The Last Word : Beyond the Bible Wars to a New Understanding of the Authority of Scripture
It seems there has always been a scholar and a preacher. You, Mike, represent the blending of the two. Obviously our personal experience can affect the way we interpret a passage but our theology should always dictate our experience and not the other way around.
I left a word out! I meant to say, “There has always been a struggle between a scholar and a preacher.” One is obviously focused more on critical interpretation and the other more often on practical application. We need both. We need both in the same person. Thanks Mike for your website.
“Getting at the original sense of scripture is an ongoing task for scholar, preacher and ordinary reader alike.”
So you’re saying I haven’t arrived?
Whats all this “ongoing” task stuff - I thought thats what grad school was for?
Next thing you’ll say is that God’s mercies are new every morning…
Seriously, thanks for the post - I often try to carry on baggage (David Fleer) onto the flight of study and today was a reminder to check it before I journey back.
Those with the gift of pastor-teacher, like yourself, are critical for such a time as this. It is sad that there are many who are not using their gift to build up, educate, and inspire the Body. I do not believe you need to be a scholar to preach effectively, however, a pastor-teacher must have that define spark.
Each Sunday, Ed Young prays, “Help me get out of the way Lord.”
There are so many preachers now who are afraid to get out of the way because they think if they really “preach the Word,” too many people will be bored. I really believe an expository message with contemporary application will feed the flock more than preaching four weeks on the Davinci Code.
N. T. Wright is rapidly becoming one of my favorites. Just this week, one of my elders put an article on my desk entitled “Emerging Chaos,” by no less a heavyweight than Chuck Colson. Colson (and presumably my elder) is concerned that the emerging church’s quest to reach the postmodern mind with the gospel will degenerate into an “anything goes” subjectivism. That danger leads him to suspect the validity of the emerging church.
Maybe I’m naive, but it seems to me that we can work to contextualize the gospel in our current culture while still doggedly maintaining the literal sense of Scripture as Wright defines it. Guess what will be in my elder’s mailbox tomorrow morning? A copy of this post!
I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear. But when he, the Spirit of truth, comes, he will guide you into all truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come. He will bring glory to me by taking from what is mine and making it known to you. All that belongs to the Father is mine. That is why I said the Spirit will take from what is mine and make it known to you. John 16:12-15
How much do we rely on the Spirit in understanding scripture?
We all have to admit that there are at least two earthly things at work as we read scripture: the physical text and my capacity to understand and interpret (you have to admit that both are at work if you believe that it’s possible to interpret scripture falsely). SO… my interpretation does matter–it can be better or worse. What makes it “better” or “worse”…? Certainly the quality of the two earthly things– the particular text or translation and my capacity to interpret as influenced by my own experience, scholarship, honesty, the questions I bring to the text, etc… BUT also, the Spirit! The Spirit is at work, not only in the original writing of the text, but also in my submission to the Spirit as I read the text.
This doesn’t throw the Bible open to “any old meaning” but rather it forces me to rely on the Spirit and to trust the Spirit rather than to trust my own intellect. Intellect is great, but it’s not enough if I want to KNOW Christ. That comes by the Spirit.
I suppose it always troubles me to see people set up straw-man versions of postmodernity that they can conveniently knock down. I don’t know of ANY postmodern theorists–even among reader-response theorists like Fish–who would suggest that EVERY interpretation is equal in terms of quality. Spend some time with Iser or Jauss or Fish himself and you’ll see this clearly. What they do talk about, however, is something more pragmatic: that we tend to “naturalize” our readings, and therefore everyone presumes that their reading is correct (N.T. Wright’s reading of postmodernity here would be a fine example). From that standpoint–from the standpoint of what we do with the information–our readings are equivalent, and that’s one of the areas reader-response theorists are interested in exploring.
As for understanding the author’s intent, it’s a great idea–looks good on paper–but I don’t really believe it’s possible. And I’d bet most people would agree with me if they thought about it for a minute. Look: can you explain clearly to yourself your own intent in the things you do in every instance (or even in most instances)? Don’t we sometimes trick ourselves or fool ourselves about the choices we’re making? And sometimes don’t we scratch our heads about why we’ve done a particular thing? And even if we think we’ve got a bead on what we’re up to, doesn’t our idea of what that is change from the vantage of hindsight, so that we look back and say “I thought I was up to this back then, but now I realize I was trying to do this other thing.” So if we can’t even fully understand ourselves, if our interpretations of our own motivation is delusory or changes over time, how easy is it going to be to figure out the intent of somebody living a long time ago in a different culture and a different historical context? And even if we do figure them out in a particular moment, does that interpretation then apply to everything they ever did? Is Paul, for example, up to the same thing with everybody to whom he writes?
I’m a medievalist, and I spend a significant amount of time trying to figure out old texts, and I have to tell you: there’s no smooth way to get to exactly what the author was up to. What I can get to is an interpretation–something I surmise is close to what the author perhaps meant. I do this by learning as much as I can about the time and the culture and the history of the author (though in my line of work, many of the authors are anonymous or unknown, making that whole authorial intent thing even more problematic). And I can come up with some pretty good guesses, but there’s no way to know for CERTAIN. Part of this is because even my guesses about what the author was up to are contingent upon my knowledge at this point. If I learn something new tomorrow, it may make me go back and reinterpret what I thought was a pretty settled view. As I’ve learned more, my interpretations have gotten more “accurate,” but I also know that means they’ll be even more “accurate” in the future. Yet I can’t wait to start interpreting until I’ve got it all figured out, because part of the way I learn more is by the very act of interpretation. So though my interpretation gets infinitely closer to the truth in the same way that a parabola gets infinitely closer to a vertical line (the asymptote), I never quite get there. That doesn’t mean I throw up may hands and say “who cares about the author”; it just means that my knowledge can never be full enough to guarantee a particular interpretation. By the way, the necessity of exploring the author’s identity and rationale as fully as possible (and then continuing to explore it) is also something favored by our reader-response friends–especially Jauss and Iser. That’s why they argue that reader AND writer TOGETHER make meaning…
The sort of contingency of interpretation I’m talking about may sound scary to some, but it’s actually the beginning of genuine community. The problem of certain interpretations–those guaranteed, for example, by the imprimatur of “authorial intent”–is that I can use them to bludgeon people with whom I disagree. Acknowledging the contingency of my interpretation, however, means that I have to meet more humbly the interpretations of others, and since I’m never fully locked into THE ONE AND ONLY POSSIBLE MEANING, it means that I continue searching, testing, learning, and trying. And as our friend Scott has said, it means I keep relying on the Spirit rather than on my human understanding or knowledge to keep steering me in the right direction (on this last point, Augustine’s On Christian Doctrine is perceptive and useful). My acknowledgment that my interpretation is never fully realized makes me realize my need for others, makes me value other interpretations, makes me continue to be a searcher…
Am I contradicting myself here–am I proving the fallacy of this “humble, communal searcher” model by attacking Wright’s take? Is this just another verbal game that proves the bankruptcy of postmodernism? I don’t think so. Look, unlike the pop version that gets paraded around by lots of people, real postmodernism never says “anything goes.” Even though postmodernism suggests you never fully get there, it also never suggests you should stop caring about the truth. And while postmodernists may say that there are many possible interpretations based on where you’re standing at the time, we also believe that the intellectual rigor and honesty with which you pursue meaning are important. If these things weren’t so, why would all of those postmodern theorists have spent all of that time writing all of those books and articles? So my problem isn’t with Wright’s conclusion that we need to pursue truth and that we can’t pretend that all interpretations–even uninformed ones–are equal (a conclusion with which I agree), but rather my problem is with his method–that he slams a straw-man version of postmodernity without giving it a fair shot. If, as Augustine observed, all truth is God’s truth, then we don’t need to shortchange anything because we never need to be afraid of truth (wherever we find it). As people of faith, we need to explore and question and consider everything we encounter. And that’s why I find the tired strategy of dismissing postmodernity outright so disingenuous.
Of course, I guess I also shouldn’t be surprised. Christians hated and feared modernism with its “critical realists” when that stuff first showed up, too…
Bill - Thanks for those words, dear friend. I know you wrote them because you thought you understood what N. T. Wright had said. And I’m responding because I think I know what you said. I was, indeed, reading for the author’s intent. As you know, people like N. T. Wright and Stanley Grenz are (or in Grenz’s case — in light of his all-too-early death — “were”) not opponents of postmodernism. Wright, as a historian/biblical scholar, and Grenz, as a theologian, are hardly equivalent to the ones you mention who hated and feared modernism.
The straw-man here is the N. T. Wright you suppose you understand from this quote. I’ve now given several snippets from this book, hoping to get people to read the whole thing.
Does that make sense? (If so, then you have indeed ascertained this author’s intent. But then it helps that we are contemporaries, English-speaking, and friends.)
But I say all these gently, knowing that you’re brighter than I am AND have a deck that is way cooler than any I could build.
Constructivist theory (in education) claims, among other things, that all understanding has to be constructed. I don’t get to zip through the drive-through and pick up my understanding pre-packaged with fries… I have to ARRIVE at my understanding. That means getting to it involves some sort of ongoing journey or work.
I happen to agree with this view.
Now, there are differing types of “construction.” There’s the “We’re gonna make ourselves a Golden Calf” type and there’s the “We’re gonna rebuild the wall of Jerusalem” type. One is idolatry, the other is submission to God’s lead. But both involve elbow-grease.
The most important question in my mind is NOT whether we construct our own understanding of scripture–yes, of course we do that. The important question is,”Am I building an idol or repairing God’s walls.”
It seems, perhaps, as we look at each other and evaluate each other’s work, it’s too easy for me to see another man’s work on the wall as an idol… or another man’s idol as wall masonry.
And then there’s Paul’s interesting “construction” advice to the church in Corinth:
By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as an expert builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should be careful how he builds. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. If any man builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, his work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man’s work. If what he has built survives, he will receive his reward. If it is burned up, he will suffer loss; he himself will be saved, but only as one escaping through the flames. I Cor. 3:10-15
That’s encouraging, grace-filled language if I ever heard it! Do your best work and know that God’s desire and his WORK is to bring you through the flames and into salvation.
Is he dismissing it outright? I don’t think so.
Bill-
I am becoming a great fan of N.T. Wright’s work, so I don’t want this to sound like too great a knock on him, but I do agree with your observation - he is setting up something of a straw man in that paragraph - though he does say that it is “the classic postmodern position” to which he is responding (whatever that means).
The pomo perspectives of which I am aware would WELCOME a thorough historical critique of ANY text - and would even agree that it is a more reliable way of reading the text for original meaning, cautioning that there will likely be other perspectives (and variations on the same) from similar readings.
As to Wright’s ultimate point - that to look for the “literal sense” of scripture means understanding how the writer intended it to be taken, rather than being hyper-literalistic - I completely agree with that.
This is completely off topic, but it’s Saturday and I’m thinking we could all use a bit of frivolity. (Hope you don’t ban me from your blog, Mike!)
This is submitted in the interest of broadening your horizons. Remember: There is big, wide world out there where people gleefully partake of a dip other than guacamole.
For your eating pleasure I present to you from my wife’s private recipe files: Black-eyed Pea Dip…
1 – 5 oz. jar of Old English Cheese
2 – cans of black-eyed peas, drained
1 – can diced, green chilies (it was small)
½ – medium onion, diced
1 tsp. – garlic powder
1 T. – diced pickled jalapenos
½ – cup (real) butter
- Sauté onions in butter.
- Then add the remaining ingredients (add cheese last)
- Stir until cheese is melted and warm.
- Serve warm with Fritos (Scoops! are best)
Really, it’s almost as good as guacamole!
I am currently taking an English graduate class in hermeneutics. I have found your essays on this topic fascinating, Mike. I have been reading Fish, Iser, Gadamer and others who would be called post modern. I have never interpreted their theories as hostile to Christians. Although they, like many before them and many who will come, seem brilliant and thought provoking, ultimately human understanding alone will never be able to interpret God. I know it says in the Bible that man’s wisdom is nothing compared to God’s wisdom. Also, the Bible says knowledge puffs up, and as we know, our goal as Christians is humility and service. (I’d rather not quote scripture to preachers like you, Mike, who I know know more than I will ever be able to know about it!) Thanks to all who posted on reader response theory. I am doing a presentation on one of Iser’s books, and Bill, your references to Iser have helped me a lot!
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