The Time You Have (In JellyBeans)
... I gotta say that I like the softball and hiking parts!
:)
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
A Topical Discussion Between Classic Orthodoxy v. Process Theology: "The Competitive Nature of Divine and Human Agency"
A Dip into the Depths of the Doctrine of God: Discussion of the Non-Competitive View of Divine and Human Agencies
by Roger E. Olson
with additional comments by R.E. Slater
August 19, 2013
Recently I posted here an imaginary conversation between a Calvinist and an Arminian (see next article below) - about God’s sovereignty. At one point I inserted a common comment made by especially intellectually-minded Calvinists about the non-competitive nature of divine and human agency. But it’s not only Calvinists who bring this up in discussions of God’s agency and creatures’. Some of the Christian thinkers I most admire in terms of their intellectual prowess and insight insist to me that I am risking idolatry when, as an Arminian, I insist that God’s agency and creatures’ are competitive.
Now it’s time to explain.
The issue can be stated many different ways; this is just one way. When a creature such as a human person makes a decision to act and then acts according to his or her desire and decision, what is God doing? A deist, even one who doesn’t call herself that, says God is observing. At the opposite end of the theistic theological spectrum a process thinker says God is observing. On that one point deists and process panentheists agree. God does not act in and through a creatures’ actions in such a way as to be directly involved. To put it another way, both deists and process thinkers agree that human creatures (and perhaps other creatures as well) have such a degree of autonomy from divine power as to be capable of acting on their own without requiring God’s corresponding action in them....
Sidebar: Panentheism asserts that God is dependent upon His creation even as His creation is dependent upon Him - this process was initiated at the moment of creation. As such, Process theology understands God as becoming part of the human experience and not apart from it (austere deism vs. classical orthodoxy's view of God's willing and necessary involvement in our lives and in the world's economy). Now whether God is rigorously involved (Calvinism: meticulous sovereignty) or not (Arminianism: concording sovereignty as here explained) is what divides Orthodox Theists committed to orthodox doctrine from non-orthodox positions of divine separation and sterility (deism).
The conundrum has been how to approach a process-driven theology while retaining a classically-driven position of sovereignty (whether Calvinistic or Arminian).... At Relevancy22 we have been promoting a process theology that is theistically-driven as a synthesis between all positions involved. My theological choice for this synthetic reconciliation has been to utilize the position of Relational Theology (or relational theism, or relational thought) - that views God's love and loving relationship with His creation as a way to combine the good from both the classic orthodox positions and the process theological positions. Why? At its heart, process theology has always been understood as a relational-process theology which it later seemed to have dropped when emphasizing God's finiteness in dependent relationship with His creation. But a relational process theology can re-orient Scripture back towards God's "Otherness" without loss to His "Closeness" to creation.
At the same time a relational process theology may help elucidate classic orthodoxy's non-biblical, artificial constructs of God's perceived relationship with His creation, as presently understood.... Meaning that, both God-and-His-creation are together evolving in experiential relationship with one another. Where the futures of both God and cosmos are unknown (though not unplanned - especially as God redeems His creation's separation from Himself, even as His creation willingly participates in this redemption).
Lastly, as a matter of personal preference, I wish to nuance all relational, Creator-creature discussions through the lens of an Arminian view of Relational Theology. Thus my emphasis upon understanding human free will and divine agency through Dr. Olson's Arminian discussions. I find them as a helpful offset from Reformed Calvinism's more austere views of God, world, church, and self. - res
... [Now] I realize some who call themselves process thinkers may disagree; I am talking about the major process philosophers and theologians such as Whitehead, Hartshorne, Cobb, Griffin, et al. There are many theologians now who attempt to modify classical process theology to correct what they see as some of its excesses—especially its tendency to make God finite. However, classical process thought and theology was not embarrassed to talk of God as finite except insofar as God is immediately present to every actual occasion giving it its initial aim and luring it toward that. The same can be said of so-called “Boston Personalism” (Brightman, Bowne, et al.).
The vast majority of Christian thinkers of all tribes have always insisted that human beings, creatures in general, have no autonomy over against God such that they can decide and act without God’s “concurrence.” The classical, orthodox Christian doctrine of God, whether Eastern Orthodox, Roman Catholic or Protestant (including Arminianism) has always included “divine concurrence” as part of the doctrine of God’s sovereignty, providence, and agency. (I discussed this in some detail in Arminian Theology: Myths and Realities.)
Stepping farther back for a moment: Classical Christian doctrines of God’s sovereignty, usually in the doctrine of divine providence, have traditionally held to three modes of God’s sovereignty in providence (history and individual lives): sustaining, concurring, and governing. Orthodox Christians, whether Eastern Orthodox, Roman Catholic or Protestant (of all traditional types up until Boston Personalism’s and process theology’s appearances) have held that God:
(1) sustains everything that is and without God’s immediate sustaining power the creature and creation as a whole would fall into nothingness;
(2) God concurs with creatures’ decisions and actions or else they would be powerless to decide and act (I would qualify this as "positively concurs, or positively acts", so as to hold all humans accountable for their own sin, and not God for their sin and transgression - res); and,
(3) God oversees, governs, even directs the course of history and human lives such that nothing can happen without God’s permission or causation (or both). [Again, this classic statement overreaches without discriminating from man's sin and sinful actions. - res]
The gist is that God is infinite and self-sufficient while creatures are finite and dependent. Put another way, God is autonomous in being, deciding and acting while creatures are not (as strictly defined under classical orthodoxy - res).
This is classical Christian theology. Yes, to be sure, there are variations of it. The devil is in the details, so to speak, of how theologians work out God’s sovereignty. But that God is sovereign in the ways I just described is basic Christian orthodoxy. Otherwise, God would not be infinite and could be regarded as just another creature, even if one without beginning. Creature in the sense of dependent on things outside himself or at least limited by them.
So what do theologians (and here I use the term broadly to include all who attempt to think Christianly about God) mean when they say that God’s agency and creatures’ agencies are “non-competitive?” That puzzles me. If they only mean what the doctrine of divine concurrence means—that creatures are not so autonomous as to be capable of deciding or acting completely apart from God’s permission and power—then I am in complete agreement. All orthodox Christians are.
However, in many discussions with Christian theologians I have detected they are accusing me of something more when they say I am pitting God’s agency and humans’ agencies against one another and thereby violating a principle of non-competitiveness between God’s agency and ours. This usually occurs when I insist, as I always do, that, when it comes to evil, God is not involved except in terms of permission and agreement. And by “agreement” I mean “concurs”—reluctantly permits and gives power to act. All creaturely power is “on loan,” as it were, from God.
I agree with those who insist on a non-competitive view of God’s agency and creatures insofar as we are talking about the good. According to Philippians 2:12-13 every good thing we do must be attributed to God being at work in us. In other words, when we are most active doing good, God is most active. And when God is most active in us we are most active. But that’s only true when we’re talking about the good. God’s agency and ours is strictly non-competitive in the realm of the truly good. Otherwise we could boast of the good that we do.
However, my problem with a “non-competitive view” of God’s agency and ours arises when we are talking about evil. Nothing in Scripture points to that! When we (or any creature) do what is truly evil, then God is still involved (sustaining, concurring, governing) but there is also competition—between God’s agency and ours. In other words, there can be no parallel principle along the lines of Philippians 2:12-13 when it comes to doing evil. Paul could not have written truly, under divine inspiration, and we should not believe or say “Work out your own evil inclinations and plans, your corruption and damnation, for God is at work in you to will and to do of his good pleasure.”
When theologians, Calvinist or non-Calvinist, tell me I must avoid a competitive view of God’s agency and ours, my mind goes immediately to the problem of evil. Of course, I want to say, that’s true when we are talking about good or neutral decisions and actions (if there are neutral ones) but not when we are talking about evil decisions and actions.
But some theologians I have talked with about these matters want to take the non-competitive view all the way—to saying that God’s agency and human agency are never in competition. They are on distinct planes altogether with God’s completely surrounding and underlying, so to speak, creatures’. (These are spatial metaphors that cannot do justice to what is meant by “noncompetitive agencies” when divine and human agencies are under consideration.)
My objection to that is that, while it may protect theology from idolatry and God’s being from finitude, it falters in making theodicy impossible.
Unless all is meant is divine concurrence. But that does not seem to be the case in many cases. Both Calvinist and non-Calvinist theologians often insist to me that any talk of creatures acting against God’s will, doing what God does not want done, thwarting God’s perfect, antecedent will introduces an element of creaturely autonomy that ultimately finitizes God. [Here is a case of an artificial theological construct caught-out between classical orthodoxy and its differences with relational theology.... it begins innocently enough by assertion of a logical argument but quickly devolves into additional syllogisms and logical arguments for-and-against-God couched within an infinite variety of biblically-sounding statements. What results is paradox and enigma, mystery and riddle. Though these theological differences cannot be defined without removing oneself further and further into adjudicated argument I find returning to a Postmodern, narrative form of theology often more helpful than the Enlightened era's systematic statements about God, world, church and self as derived from the days of the Reformation. - res]
While I do not wish to do that, of course, neither do I wish to imply that evil dispositions, decisions and actions fit within divine agency except concurrence. And with the proviso of divine concurrence I must admit that I view divine and creaturely agencies as somewhat competitive—commensurable in the sense that they can conflict....
[Like myself, Dr. Olson wishes to adhere to a defined system of thought (mine is more probably blended than his as my preference leans towards relational-process thought)... herein he has been utilizing classical theological arguments while rejecting classical process thought as he here defines it.... So that by using classic orthodox arguments he has removed the idea of God's finiteness, or limitedness, within sinful mankind's actions... even as process theologians grapple with seeing the same sinfulness within mankind from their own perspective by positing man's limitation of God when man sinfully acts. Each are saying the same thing but from within a different theological structure. As such, Dr. Olson's article today is an even better illustration between classic orthodoxy's perception of an individual theological doctrine against that of a classical (non-relational) process theology. He begins with his perceptions between Calvinism and Arminianism but quickly devolves into his own qualifying perceptions between classic orthodoxy versus classic process theology. - res]
res - ... Without process thought a classical orthodox position must say the following:
I do not think that requires me to adopt a deistic or processive view of God as a finite being limited by creatures (a lá William James or Alfred North Whitehead or any of their faithful followers). Why not? Because I hold to the doctrine of divine concurrence. I can do nothing, not even evil, without God’s agreement and aid [per Dr. Olson's classic orthodox summation - res]. However, an element of competition of agencies enters in the moment I suggest that God only agrees and aids (concurs) in the evil that I do reluctantly and that the evil I do cannot be attributed to God’s agency as its primary, efficient cause. Whatever good I do I attribute to God’s primary, efficient causation (Philippians 2:12-13). Therefore I cannot boast and can only confess “What do I have that I was not given?” However, when I do evil I attribute it to my own causation as efficient and instrumental and to God’s causation only in terms of Aristotle’s (and Aquinas’s) final cause (making it possible and directing it to its ultimate “place” in God’s overall plan).
The problems I have with any consistently noncompetitive view of God’s agency and ours is that it problematizes theodicy [("theodicy" is the branch of theology concerned with defending the attributes of God against objections resulting from physical and moral evil - res)] and, while seeming to pay God metaphysical compliments, conflicts with the biblical narrative in which God is portrayed as horrified by evil as that which he does not intend or cause—even indirectly (through secondary causes).
I would describe my view, as briefly outlined here, as “biblical personalism”—a term I borrow from Emil Brunner. God is a person (or three persons in perfect community of will), not an object or force. While I am reluctant to identify God, or talk about God, in objectifying ways (i.e., as “thingy”), following the biblical narrative and avoiding speculation, as much as possible, I have to talk about God as a “Thou” who encounters me in a genuine, personal “I-Thou” encounter and not as an energy or force or principle or whatever who is impersonal or suprapersonal (whatever that means) or even infinite in the speculative, philosophical sense of “the Absolute” (a lá Hegel or Tillich and, I fear, much negative theology).
[By the end of his article Dr. Olson also sees a theology based upon God's relationship with man as a way out of the classic theological box of syllogistic debate. Meaning that, as a well-versed historical theologian he senses classic orthodoxy's need to evolve into a postmodern perception of relationality utilizing time and process, openness and evolution. For myself, Dr. Olson has always been a good barometer in reminding us of our classical theological boundaries while pursuing more blended forms of theology and ministry. It also reminds today's postmodernist of our orthodox birthright even as it propels us forward towards newer systems of discovery and discussion in both their limitations and brighter prospects for the postmodern Christian faith. - res]
* * * * * * * * * *
A Conversation between a Calvinist and an Arminian about God’s Sovereignty
by Roger Olson
August 7, 2013
Calvinist to Arminian: “You Arminians don’t really believe in God’s sovereignty.”
Arminian: “You Calvinists don’t really believe in God’s love.”
Calvinist: “Oh, but we do. You’re so wrong! The Bible is clear about God being love.”
Arminian: “But you don’t believe God loves all people, so how can you believe, as the Bible says, that God is love?”
Calvinist: “God loves all people in some ways but only some people in all ways.”
Arminian: “Uh, you seemed to be in a trance as you said that. Are you sure you didn’t just hear that somewhere and are repeating it like a mantra—without really thinking about what you’re saying?”
Calvinist: “No, that’s what I really believe!”
Arminian: “How does God love those he predestined and foreordained to hell?”
Calvinist: “He gives them many temporal blessings.”
Arminian: “You mean he gives them a little bit of heaven to go to hell in.”
Calvinist: “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way.”
Arminian: “That’s what it sounds like to me.”
Calvinist: “That’s because you don’t understand God correctly. God is infinite and beyond our comprehension. So God’s love is not the same as our love. [His love] It transcends [our love] it.”
Arminian: “How is that different from saying God is ‘supercalifragilisticexpialadocious’?”
Calvinist: “Look, you Arminians have a low view of God. That’s your whole problem. You don’t understand the glory of God. Why, you don’t even really believe in the sovereignty of God—as I said.”
Arminian: “No, you’re wrong. We do. But God’s ‘sovereignty’ is different than any of our notions of human sovereignty—even the best and highest of them. God is infinite and transcends our categories.”
Calvinist: “Wait a minute. ‘Sovereignty’ means absolute, total control.” [sic, meticulous sovereignty, as defined. - res]
Arminian: “It might in your vocabulary or even in your dictionary but that doesn’t matter. ‘When we attribute something to God we have to realize it’s totally different in God than in us because of God’s glory.’ At least that’s so if we play the theology game your way. If you can say you believe in God’s love but God’s ‘love’ is different than our highest and best concepts of love and that it’s even compatible with what we know as hate, then surely we can say, without you objecting, that we believe in God’s sovereignty even if our concept of God’s sovereignty is totally different than any concept of sovereignty you think is normal or compatible with human knowledge or experience.”
Calvinist: “Okay, I see. You’re trying to turn the tables on me.”
Arminian: “I’m just trying to get you to put aside double standards and play fair in your rhetoric about Arminianism. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. You can’t appeal to God’s infinity and incomprehensibility to defend your unusual (to say the least) meaning of ‘God is love’ and then turn around and object when others use words about God in ways beyond what you think is normal understanding.”
Calvinist: “Well, we Calvinists are just going by what the Bible says. We have to understand God’s love by what we see clearly revealed in Scripture about God’s actions.”
Arminian: “Well, we Arminians are just going by what the Bible says. We have to understand God’s sovereignty by what we see clearly revealed in Scripture about God’s actions.”
Calvinist: “Now you’re mocking me.”
Arminian: “No, I’m just trying to point out that two can play that game.”
Calvinist: “Well, I don’t even know what you mean. God’s sovereignty in Scripture is clearly absolute control [(sic, meticulous sovereignty, again. -res)]. That’s how God acts in Scripture.”
Arminian: “And what about all those times when God didn’t get his way and regretted things because of what humans did to thwart his plans and will? And what about Jesus weeping over Jerusalem and saying he wanted to…but they would not? Et cetera?”
Calvinist: “Oh, well, that’s easy. Those are anthropomorphisms.”
Arminian: “And so could be all those times in Scripture when God controlled circumstances and people.”
Calvinist: “No, those must be taken literally.” [based upon an inerrantist position of biblical literalism - res]
Arminian: “You are coming to Scripture with a preconceived idea of God and choosing what to take figuratively and what to take literally based on that. Your starting point is a philosophical idea of God drawn from reason and then you use that as a Procrustean bed of hermeneutics.”
Calvinist: “Wait. I think you’re trying to turn the tables on me again. That’s what we Calvinists say you Arminians do—with free will.”
Arminian: “Oh, really?”
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Reviews of Konrad Schmid's "A Literary History of the Old Testament" - How the OT was Compiled
When did the Old Testament become the Old Testament?
(a crash course in the form of a chart)
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/peterenns/2013/08/when-did-the-old-testament-become-the-old-testament-a-crash-course-in-the-form-of-a-chart/
by Peter Enns
by Peter Enns
August 20, 2013
Last year, an English translation of Konrad Schmid’s (University of Zurich) approach to the literary history of the Old Testament–i.e., when the bits and pieces of the Old Testament originated and when they all came together to form a book–was published with the title The Old Testament: A Literary History.
I haven’t read the book, but I read a recent scholarly review (printed below) of it on line. Exactly why and when the ancient writings of Israel came to be, let alone when they were compiled and edited into a one-volume collection we call the Bible, is not the easiest thing to nail down.
But one pillar of modern OT scholarship, which isn’t seriously challenged outside of inerrantist writers, is that the OT had a long pre-history before it reached the form that we know today.
 |
| Author: Konrad Schmid |
That process began in at some point during the monarchic period but didn’t pick up serious steam until the exilic and post exilic periods, when Israel was in theo-political crisis and needed a book telling their story with God.
That process didn’t come to an end until sometime in the Greek period, which began with the conquests of Alexander the Great (332 BCE) and ended with the Maccabean Revolt (160s BCE). Some books are later still, such as the final form of Daniel and the shaping of the Psalter.
Whatever the Bible’s pre-history may be, the "Bible" we have now is a product of the exilic and postexilic periods.
That’s generally the broad outline of the historical-critical narrative of the origins of the OT, and, for what it’s worth, it’s pretty uncontroversial in contemporary OT studies.
What might be of most help and interest is the chart below complied by the reviewer, Trent Butler, and it’s largely the reason I wrote this post.
As I said, details are part of the scholarly dialogue, and Butler notes Schmid’s Euro-centric bias, but the overall picture that the chart gives is almost a crash course on the state of the field.
As I said, details are part of the scholarly dialogue, and Butler notes Schmid’s Euro-centric bias, but the overall picture that the chart gives is almost a crash course on the state of the field.
Study at it. Note how Schmid looks at different genres of OT literature and where he sees them falling within certain historical periods. Don’t let the details overwhelm you. Find a familiar chunk of the OT–say Genesis– and see in what periods (plural) it arose.
Again, the overall idea isn’t controversial, but working out the details of the how and when of ancient texts isn’t a hard science. It’s more like model building and there’s always room for more thinking and refinement.
The bottom line: Israel’s written (and oral) traditions grew to become the “Hebrew Bible/Old Testament” after a lengthy process, punctuated by the crisis of the exile and an uncertain future after Judah’s return. Or, as I put it elsewhere, it is an exercise in national self-definition in response to the Babylonian exile.
I don’t see this as a hushed, back room, discussion among biblical scholars with coded language and secret handshakes. I think all this is important to take in, because knowing something about when and why the Old Testament came to be helps us understand its theology. Afterwhich this saga of Israel gets reframed, redefined, and transformed in the NT around Jesus.
* * * * * * * * * *
A Review of:
The Old Testament: A Literary History
Written by Konrad Schmid
Translated by Linda M. Maloney
by Trent C. Butler
Gallatin, Tennessee
RBL 08/2013
Schmid is professor of Old Testament Studies and Jewish History at the
University of Zurich. Fortress Press has served Old Testament studies a great
favor by issuing this translation of a book that should be in every theological
library and on the reading list of every person doing research in the field of
Hebrew Bible. Schmid’s literary-history approach builds on only a few
predecessors, as he shows in his history of research section.
Schmid sets out his task and purpose quite clearly. “Literary history
is an attempt to present and interpret literary works not simply in themselves
but in their various contexts, linkages, and historical development” (1). He
“deals with the presuppositions, backgrounds, processes, and intertextualities
making up the literary history of the Old Testament.” (xi) To do so, he sets
himself an even more arduous task, working with whatever consensus recent
scholarship, at least European scholarship, has reached in dealing with
pentateuchal origins, the unifying elements of the Book of the Twelve, the nature
of scribal or literary prophecy, and the questioning of the Deuteronomistic History,
to name a few.
Literary history explores the linkages among texts both as
contemporary dialogue partners and as tradents interpreting the diachronic
interpretations of tradition. Following the literary history rather than the
canonical order differentiates literary history from introduction to the Old
Testament.
Methodologically, Schmid isolates three layers of work: (1)
literary-historical epochs (pre-Assyrian, Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian,
Ptolemaic, and Seleucid); (2) literary types (cultic\wisdom, narrative,
prophetic, legal); and (3) concrete literary works. Much of the literary
material has both oral and written prehistories as well as posthistories, since
the material is basically “traditional literature.” No longer does one point to
a JEPD Pentateuch but rather to limited sources dealing with Abraham and Lot,
Jacob, Joseph, and Moses. These limited narrative horizons were joined together
into the larger theological narratives only in the exilic or early postexilic
period. Similarly, prophetic studies have turned to a literary posthistory of
the sayings, with redactors seen as writing prophets whose work needs to be
studied in its own right. Finally, Psalms study has also turned to the written
book whose arrangement shows theological emphases in “a carefully structured
literary whole” (29).
Corollary to this for Schmid is that “not a single book of the Bible
has come down to us in its pre-exilic form.”(12) Beyond this, the Old Testament
preserves only a portion of Israel’s literary output, limiting one’s material
for comparison and conversation. In reality, “the literary history of the Old
Testament treats those texts that
survived as texts available for use in the Jerusalem Temple school that later
were recognized as sacred Scripture.” (15)
Schmid’s literary history begins, then, with a quite different piece
of literature than either evangelicalism or classic critical scholarship has
advocated. The Old Testament books have (1)
no salvation history frame, (2) no “early source,” (3) a new understanding of Deuteronomism,
(4) a new convergence between Israel’s monarchic religion(s) and that of their
neighbors, (5) new importance of literary shaping in the exilic and postexilic
eras, and (6) roots in scribal interpretation rather than in individual
religious geniuses (29–30). With this understanding of the available text,
Schmid chooses to deal with a text in the period of its first literary
formation.
Texts were products of ninth-century and later writers who belonged to
a narrow circle able to write, the majority of the population being illiterate.
Very few copies of a book were produced, with the Jerusalem library being
important in production and preservation. Scribes wrote the Old Testament
literature for scribes: “the audience was essentially identical with the authors
themselves.” (38)
Schmid begins the actual literary history by looking at Israelite
literature’s beginning at the time of the Syro-Palestinian city-states in the
tenth to eighth centuries. Schmid erases the Davidic/Solomonic empire and its
great literary creations. That the historical David and Solomon produced
written documents is no more than probable. Israel began “extensive literary
production” in the ninth century and Judah in the eighth (51).
A history of biblical literature begins under the Assyrians, giving
Israel its own cultural and religious identity. The reign of Manasseh (696–642)
becomes the flowering of Old Testament literature. Josiah (639–609) apparently
gave Judah control of the Bethel traditions. (68) Four theological streams
emerged:
(1) accusing king and people, not God, for defeats (prophets and kings);
(2) literary legends of origins without a king (Moses/exodus, judges);
(3) upholding the ideal of the monarchy (Psalms, wisdom); and,
(4) anti-Assyrian concepts transferred loyalty against Assyria and to God (Deuteronomy covenant).
Written law as in the Book of the Covenant was differentiated from ethics and gave rise to written wisdom. Narrative literature in Samuel and Kings focused on individual figures. God’s intervention becomes dependent on the right action of kings. This is expressed in language akin to Deuteronomy, a linguistic style reaching down to Daniel and Baruch. Israel’s ongoing written prophecies stand without parallel and appear under the monarchy whose messenger forms they use.
(1) accusing king and people, not God, for defeats (prophets and kings);
(2) literary legends of origins without a king (Moses/exodus, judges);
(3) upholding the ideal of the monarchy (Psalms, wisdom); and,
(4) anti-Assyrian concepts transferred loyalty against Assyria and to God (Deuteronomy covenant).
Written law as in the Book of the Covenant was differentiated from ethics and gave rise to written wisdom. Narrative literature in Samuel and Kings focused on individual figures. God’s intervention becomes dependent on the right action of kings. This is expressed in language akin to Deuteronomy, a linguistic style reaching down to Daniel and Baruch. Israel’s ongoing written prophecies stand without parallel and appear under the monarchy whose messenger forms they use.
We are stimulated and challenged to new study by this approach to
study of the Hebrew Bible. If only the work could incorporate and enter into
conversation with a wider range of scholars outside Europe and outside those so
totally devoted to Europe’s form of redaction criticism. We look forward to
updated forms of this literature pioneer.
Schmid organizes by chapters, each one after the opening introductions
and historical reviews follows the same pattern. The chapter title is a time
period each with historical backgrounds and theological characteristics
followed by a classification of the literature first developing in that time
period. The literature is divided by types: cult and wisdom, narrative,
prophetic, and legal. The following table attempts to summarize his analysis.
For Further Reading:
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Monday, August 12, 2013
Scot McKnight: "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly about Reading Genesis 1-2" (A Review of Todd Beall's book)
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/jesuscreed/2013/08/12/the-good-the-bad-and-the-ugly-about-reading-genesis-1-2/
by Scot McKnight
Aug 12, 2013
Among evangelicals one can find a number of views on how to read Genesis 1-2 the literary approach and the literal approach are two typical approaches, though behind them all is one simple question: Historical or not? And then this one: In what senses is it historical or non-historical? The big problem here is that one’s conclusions enter into the polemics of evangelicalism where some think anything less than “historical all the way down” (including light before the sun) throws "evangelicalism under the bus" while others think there’s plenty of room for other considerations (and honestly hold to evangelical convictions in all other regards).
For me a problem enters when one view contends [that] it alone is faithful while the others have caved in; and it is even more problematic when the principal evidence and scientific discussions are ignored or denied. This is the case with Todd Bealls’ contribution to J. Daryl Charles, Reading Genesis 1-2: An Evangelical Conversation. After we read a perfectly reasonable sketch of how to read Genesis 1-2 in a literary reading with clear historical referentialism at work by Richard Averbeck, Bealls chooses to do polemics against everyone else’s readings but his [own] “literal” (more below) reading. A big disappointment because I’d like to read an honest sketch of his reading — all the polemics dropped — of Genesis 1-2; but my disappointment was shared by the responses by the other authors in this multi-view volume. Some [of my] observations - and these are more or less found as well in the respondents - though I jotted these down before I read their responses:
1. He opens playing the Elijah, or victim, game. Like Elijah in wilderness Beall claims his view alone is faithful and the rest are caving in and that he’s persecuted for it. Skip his first two paragraphs and go to his first question.
2. He asks if one should have two different hermeneutics for Genesis 1-11(or 1-2, or just chp 1) than for Gen 12-50. He says they are the same, the hermeneutic should be the same, that it should be literal. He’s got some good points here; I’m not sure it as water tight as he’d like and most readers of Genesis 1-2 don’t agree with him. Yes, these chps are narrative prose; but how does one know when “narrative” is “historical referentiality” vs. the non-historical and literary? (Point 5 below touches on this.)
3. Which raises for me an observation. Beall has a colossal hermeneutical blunder: he equates a “literal” reading with “historical referentiality” without a shred of evidence or defense. The fact is that a literal reading can be fully literal and the text itself not at all be concerned with historical referentiality (John Collins’ response points this out too). Here’s an example. Luke 10:30 has Jesus responding to the man’s question about who is my neighbor: Jesus says, “In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead….” I know of almost no one who thinks this isn’t a parable yet most think it is a parable. There’s no indication it is a parable — it doesn’t say “And then Jesus told this parable…” It just says “A man…” and if one takes it as a parable, it could be pure fiction; if it is not a parable, it could refer to a historical referent. My point is this: Most think it is a parable because it comes off that way though there’s not a shred of evidence in the text that is a parable or an imagined story. In Beall’s logic we’d have to take this as a historical referent story and not a parable. This is the problem for Beall’s logic: How do we know when a narrative is historical or fictional? He doesn’t spell it out and for me it ruins this chp.
4. Another question he addresses: is Genesis 1 from an ANE worldview? This, by the way, is one way to answer the historical referentiality question but Beall gets too polemical here. Because the text is from God it doesn’t have to be — or isn’t — an ANE worldview. “Why would God have used ANE myths to reveal truth to Moses…?” (52). One could ask “Why not?” He says instead it is polemics against the ANE worldview, which is almost a way of saying it partakes in the ANE worldview. I could go on: the point I’d make is that this text emerged in the ANE, it was for people who lived in the ANE, it has parallels and differences from the ANE, and all texts emerge from and speak into and against their cultures. Denying a text’s cultural embedness is a colossal hermeneutical blunder. Every text reflects its culture. Historical conditionedness is part of the human condition so when God chose to speak he did so in space and time, and that space and that time is not the same as ours today.
5. How do NT authors approach these texts? This is a more fruitful approach for someone who wants to deny the importance of the ANE context. Yes, I would agree that the NT writers assume the text of Genesis 1-2(and beyond) when they speak: Jesus, Paul, et al.. But I’d like to see him address one question: Does the authority of a biblical worldview rest on that worldview being historical? Let us say that Jesus is saying “the two, as the Bible says, became one [(sic, Adam and Eve)].” Is his view based on the fact that his worldview is rooted in that worldview or because the text of Gen 1-2 is historical? In this section I think Beall assumes that “literally” can only be “authoritative” if “literal” means “historical.” Is that compelling?
6. He then says those who are opting for literary readings of Genesis 1-2 are accommodating themselves to theistic evolution. Maybe, but I’d rather not question the motive of Tremper Longman and Pete Enns and John Walton and believe that they really do think Genesis 1-2 needs to be read in a more historically nuanced way so that it is more in tune with ANE culture, something that is simply not characteristic of the tradition that developed leading to the view Beall now defends. As we have become both more aware of science and the ANE texts we need to listen and learn.
He then sees this all as a slippery slope, his terms. This is a scare tactic and not logic. Slippery slope logic is unworthy of intellectual rigor.
Saturday, August 10, 2013
The Bible as a "Memory-Narrative" or "Mnemo-Narrative"
[Wikipedia] Hermeneutics /hɜrməˈnjuːtɪks/ is the theory of text interpretation, especially the interpretation of biblical texts, wisdom literature, and philosophical texts.[1][2]
The terms hermeneutics and exegesis are sometimes used interchangeably. Hermeneutics is a wider discipline that includes written, verbal, and nonverbal communication. Exegesis focuses primarily upon texts.
Hermeneutic as a singular noun refers to a single particular method or strand of interpretation. (See double hermeneutic.)
Modern hermeneutics includes both verbal and nonverbal communication as well as semiotics, presuppositions, and preunderstandings.[3]
Hermeneutic consistency refers to the analysis of texts to achieve a coherent explanation of them.
Philosophical hermeneutics refers primarily to the theory of knowledge initiated by Martin Heidegger and developed by Hans-Georg Gadamer in his work Truth and Method. It sometimes refers to the theories of Paul Ricoeur.[4]
Introduction
The inclusion of biblical stories in the bible used to be thought of as Israel's "oral history." Or, as the disciples of Jesus' "remembered history" with Him. Now, the reconstruction of the Old and New Testaments are being thought of as a "Memory-Narrative" (or Mnemo-Narrative like the cute, orange, Disney fish by the same name). In past articles (see the sidebar under Bible - Development and Canon) we have talked about the construction of the OT through the centuries (and millennia) of Israel's long, long history; and here is yet another good reminder that the church's "literalistic" reading of the Bible may not be the most appropriate way to read its ancient narratives and histories. Why? By way of a simple example, think of how hard it would be to reconstruct what happened in your church fellowship group from a year ago without revising it according to those who are listening to you (what you think they may be interested in hearing), or the topics you may wish to emphasize (and think may be worth remembering to your listeners). The upshot? Remembering a story isn't as "objective" a process as you may think. And repeating that story might not have the same affect upon a different group of listeners, like say, a humorous story, that works for one set of friends but doesn't quite work in the same way for another set of friends, falling flat when told.
The reason for this is because we, the storyteller, can get in the way of a good story. Any Sunday School teacher knows this: should they recite a bible lesson factually? Or colorfully? Or even as a funny homily from a similar life experience? My first pastor, John White, was very good at embellishing his youth raised in the corn fields of Iowa and teaching some very fine lessons from the bible (it also would hold our attention because many were humorous). Mostly, to my way of thinking, God thought that allowing us to use our colorful retelling about Him and His works amongst the nations would be a more useful pedagogic tool than a straight, boring, recitation of dry, factual history (sic, what high school history teacher can you remember? My guess is "not many!"). Left with the choice of His Holy Spirit dictating event-after-event ad naseum, or with the retelling of those events from a human author's perspective (as inspired by the Holy Spirit), God chose the latter (and really, let's be honest, could He chose any other process than ourselves? Not really).
As a result of this process of "remembering of the biblical event" through subjective, personal narration, we get into the academic disciplines of historic reconstruction known as "historical criticism" and "redactionary criticism". The former takes a hard comparative look at world history as we think we know it today from archaeological finds, while the latter analyzes how an author places his - or her's - outlook upon the world within their remembered experience, or, the experience of another.... Speaking of which, how many times have you "remembered" someone else's experience and told it back to that same person who had experienced it first-hand and found out that that wasn't how they remembered it? Perhaps you - or they - making little embellishments or wholesale storyline changes on the second and third times around?
So, you can see the depth of the problem here when it comes to interpreting God's Word.... especially as inerrant history rather than as remembered narrational (not national, but narrational) history that is historical but told from a personal viewpoint. Or remember from a collective viewpoint (by Israel, by her priests, her tribes, her people, etc). But, you say, God's Word is without error! That's true insofar as we interpret it correctly allowing for narrational oversight, undersight, cultural contextualization, ancient historical and educational knowledge (Iron Age, late Empire), etc and etc. But the biblical reader would do much better in asking "why God said this," or "why God was remembered in that fashion" than to get into the mindset of flatly stating "God's Word is without error." This would be to confuse its inspired spiritual authority in our lives pertaining to all things salvific and redemptive. And trying to equate its historical recount as errorless. The former understands that within 1500 years of historical commentary development there may be room for interpretive freedom. When we do my argument would be that we gain a much more interesting, and more complex Bible, in the process. One that isn't so locked down by dogmatic or religious statements. One that can (and well) allow for movement within our own cultures and lives about how we think about God and His revelation to us as given through human agency. Especially as our cultures today have become more dynamically complex than they were in Moses' day, or in the disciple's day, given the massive populations living today as versus the much smaller human populations living back 2000 - 4000 years ago.
Moving forward... a third category (and there are many more as I will shortly suggest) would be "literary criticism" that looks at the speech and language patterns found within a text; the kinds of literary themes present; and even the ambiguity of language itself in delving into topics we seek to dogmatize rather than leave open lest we unduly restrict God's Word. Much can be said about this but I will leave it open for now as simply another observation.
Another redactive category is that of looking at the Scriptures existentially through ourselves as a necessaryinterpreters of God's profound Word. Or, viewing it through our modern day cultures which may be more pluralistic, multi-ethnic, educated, and certainly quite unlike the socio-cultural contexts of the ancient societies found in the Bible. Or even, by our "era-specific contexts which means how the church in the Medieval, or Enlightenment, eras may have looked at various biblical texts differently than how we do now as Modern, or Postmodern, people of the 21st Century. Thus, individual and societal views do affect how we read the Bible and its meaning of Jesus and the gospel in our lives.
The reason for this is because we, the storyteller, can get in the way of a good story. Any Sunday School teacher knows this: should they recite a bible lesson factually? Or colorfully? Or even as a funny homily from a similar life experience? My first pastor, John White, was very good at embellishing his youth raised in the corn fields of Iowa and teaching some very fine lessons from the bible (it also would hold our attention because many were humorous). Mostly, to my way of thinking, God thought that allowing us to use our colorful retelling about Him and His works amongst the nations would be a more useful pedagogic tool than a straight, boring, recitation of dry, factual history (sic, what high school history teacher can you remember? My guess is "not many!"). Left with the choice of His Holy Spirit dictating event-after-event ad naseum, or with the retelling of those events from a human author's perspective (as inspired by the Holy Spirit), God chose the latter (and really, let's be honest, could He chose any other process than ourselves? Not really).
As a result of this process of "remembering of the biblical event" through subjective, personal narration, we get into the academic disciplines of historic reconstruction known as "historical criticism" and "redactionary criticism". The former takes a hard comparative look at world history as we think we know it today from archaeological finds, while the latter analyzes how an author places his - or her's - outlook upon the world within their remembered experience, or, the experience of another.... Speaking of which, how many times have you "remembered" someone else's experience and told it back to that same person who had experienced it first-hand and found out that that wasn't how they remembered it? Perhaps you - or they - making little embellishments or wholesale storyline changes on the second and third times around?
So, you can see the depth of the problem here when it comes to interpreting God's Word.... especially as inerrant history rather than as remembered narrational (not national, but narrational) history that is historical but told from a personal viewpoint. Or remember from a collective viewpoint (by Israel, by her priests, her tribes, her people, etc). But, you say, God's Word is without error! That's true insofar as we interpret it correctly allowing for narrational oversight, undersight, cultural contextualization, ancient historical and educational knowledge (Iron Age, late Empire), etc and etc. But the biblical reader would do much better in asking "why God said this," or "why God was remembered in that fashion" than to get into the mindset of flatly stating "God's Word is without error." This would be to confuse its inspired spiritual authority in our lives pertaining to all things salvific and redemptive. And trying to equate its historical recount as errorless. The former understands that within 1500 years of historical commentary development there may be room for interpretive freedom. When we do my argument would be that we gain a much more interesting, and more complex Bible, in the process. One that isn't so locked down by dogmatic or religious statements. One that can (and well) allow for movement within our own cultures and lives about how we think about God and His revelation to us as given through human agency. Especially as our cultures today have become more dynamically complex than they were in Moses' day, or in the disciple's day, given the massive populations living today as versus the much smaller human populations living back 2000 - 4000 years ago.
Moving forward... a third category (and there are many more as I will shortly suggest) would be "literary criticism" that looks at the speech and language patterns found within a text; the kinds of literary themes present; and even the ambiguity of language itself in delving into topics we seek to dogmatize rather than leave open lest we unduly restrict God's Word. Much can be said about this but I will leave it open for now as simply another observation.
Another redactive category is that of looking at the Scriptures existentially through ourselves as a necessaryinterpreters of God's profound Word. Or, viewing it through our modern day cultures which may be more pluralistic, multi-ethnic, educated, and certainly quite unlike the socio-cultural contexts of the ancient societies found in the Bible. Or even, by our "era-specific contexts which means how the church in the Medieval, or Enlightenment, eras may have looked at various biblical texts differently than how we do now as Modern, or Postmodern, people of the 21st Century. Thus, individual and societal views do affect how we read the Bible and its meaning of Jesus and the gospel in our lives.
Consequently, interpreting the Word of God as a living document (rather than as a static, dead artifact) is not necessarily a simple a process, as many in-the-pews and pulpits today have made it out to be when using the approach of reading the "plain meaning of the word" within the Bible's historical pages. A literalistic, wooden reading of the Bible simply becomes unhelpful as we discover question-after-question that must lie unanswered by this method. An approach that can make God even more distant from ourselves when approached in this haphazard way. Mostly, our street-level, uninformed, pedestrian-way-of-thinking is unhelpful when interpreting the Bible as an ancient document that is believed to be relevant for mankind today. As such, we would do well to listen to the experts rather than using ourselves as reliable guides.
Too, we would do well to remember that Jesus is the Bible's center. Should our Lord and Savior become lost within the Bible's pages than we should consider some other process or interpretation that would see Jesus-theology as the focus of its history.... This would be known as a Christo-centric hermeneutic (or method of interpretation). If not, the Bible becomes a cold, impersonable, history book rather than as a living document for our spiritual lives (kinda like American history when remembered apart from its personal stories). The Bible is God's living word into our lives today. As Paul once said to Timothy, we must enter in carefully to the study of the Word lest we be found fools and false prophets, alarmists and unworthy shepherds. And this is good advice both for the Christian as well as for the non-Christian analyst who would tell us of the Jesus of our faith. I don't expect the non-Christian to be able to tell me of Jesus as my Savior.... Perhaps for that person Jesus may be seen as a political zealot, or as a Jewish insurrectionist, but to understand the God of the universe as become incarnate as my Savior and Lord, will be out of their reach. Which doesn't mean that they don't know what their talking about historically, but that its spiritual impact is beyond them. As believers we listen, we discern, we think, we ask questions at all times. Both to those outside the house of God as well as to those within the house of God. We are at all times culpable (accountable, but flawed) for our interpretation of God and life.
At the last, the Bible for the Christian must be as theological as it is historical, as personal as it is reflective. But it must be historical if it is to be theological. That is, the Jesus of history must also be the Jesus of my Christian faith. The trick is to know what kind of Jesus and Bible we as Christians read. Thus my plea today to divide God's Word carefully using all the resources at hand, and not just our favorite dogmas that reinforce our views (say a preferred church view, for example). For me, literalism doesn't work. It misleads. It misinforms. It doesn't quite fill out the complexity of God's story blending with His creation and with humanity's movement and change.
Hence, the external factors cited above are just some of the observed influences that help open-up and recreate a storyteller's story. By transference, by the time Israel began codifying its Hebraic canon (or Old Testament) in the Second Temple period (600-500 BC) many of its historical events, social movements, and personal experiences of God had already occurred as complete. By the time of its codification Israel had suffered exile into Babylonian lands and there God used this time of "wilderness experience" to teach His people again about Himself (thus the stories of the Exodus, and cycles of judgment in Judges and the prophetic books). These stories held RELEVANCE to Israel's shattered faith as it began to purposefully reconstruct what was left of her belief in God and disbelief in themselves as final anchors in the world of men. At the last, through Daniel and Nehemiah, God restored His people to the land of Canaan, but as a broken people broken into a thousand different pieces, belief groups, and religious viewpoints about God as found in her Intertestamental period between Malachi and Matthew (400BC - 6 BC).
Each of Israel's collective histories paid homage to her belief that God had not abandoned them. That He would lead them to a more sure salvation than by the works of her own hands. To a Messiah that would come, filled with the Spirit of God, declaring by word, deed, and very life, God's love and mercy, justice and wisdom, forgiveness and hope. Each of these collective stories having been preserved by the priests of the restored Second Temple wishing to tell about their God who redeemed them. Their recommitment to this God of their faith. And Israel's place in the world as herald-and-banner to the Messiah to come. As they reconstructed the Old Testament Scriptures they were reconstructing their spiritual beliefs and assurances. Which was not an easy task considering that the worship of God and His Word was not written down in whole, but in part (at best it resided in incomplete fragments and disseparate scrolls). Or dependent upon faded oral stories from long, long ago. Whose temple scrolls had been lost, or ill-preserved, or had undergone desperate times of regional/national upheaval in Israel's life. Times like being forgotten for decades - neither rehearsed nor practiced. Disobeyed. Lost by war, by pride, by Baal worship. And by dominating selective religious interests (sic, Aaron's desire to make an image of God; Joshua and Judges cycles of rebellion and doubt; Samuel's laxity as a great high priest before God; Northern Israel's separation from the Kingdom of Judah, etc).
This was Israel's history. A history filled with societal turmoil amid its spiritual development, and redemptive evolution, from Abraham to Jesus through 1500 years of historical formation. As an example, try retelling America's story of colonialization to its citizens living within the period of the Revolutionary War 350 years ago.... Our modern stories of America's birth will probably sound very unlike how those living in the 18th Century would have retold America's early history. What worked for those early American societies does not have the same impact upon us here today. Even so, Israel's view of itself had changed over the long years of its societal birth and formation. Let us, as readers of God's Word, become then more careful discerners to the Word of God, and not be so easily swayed by pulpit or press just what is, or what is not, God's Word.... My guess is that it is a lot more complex and forgiving than we would like to make it out to be by our pet theories or interpretations. My guess is that God is amazing even as His re-creation in our lives can be too. If anything, Israel's history is one of recreation at the hands of an amazing God. One they misunderstood and didn't count on. Of a God who lifted them up to praise His name even as King David had raised his banners to his God in Psalms, and hymns, and on musical instruments. This is the kind of redeemer God who is beyond our imagination. Who forgives our sin. Our shortcomings. Our disbelief. Who tells us that He loves us as no other. Who will give us life by His life in Jesus. And spiritual assurance. And presence when we had none but ourselves, lost and alone in our own wilderness of sin and turmoil. This is the kind of God that the Scriptures do testify of. To this we may only proclaim Amen, and Amen. Thus is Israel's testament to her own remembered history even as we do today with ours.
Too, we would do well to remember that Jesus is the Bible's center. Should our Lord and Savior become lost within the Bible's pages than we should consider some other process or interpretation that would see Jesus-theology as the focus of its history.... This would be known as a Christo-centric hermeneutic (or method of interpretation). If not, the Bible becomes a cold, impersonable, history book rather than as a living document for our spiritual lives (kinda like American history when remembered apart from its personal stories). The Bible is God's living word into our lives today. As Paul once said to Timothy, we must enter in carefully to the study of the Word lest we be found fools and false prophets, alarmists and unworthy shepherds. And this is good advice both for the Christian as well as for the non-Christian analyst who would tell us of the Jesus of our faith. I don't expect the non-Christian to be able to tell me of Jesus as my Savior.... Perhaps for that person Jesus may be seen as a political zealot, or as a Jewish insurrectionist, but to understand the God of the universe as become incarnate as my Savior and Lord, will be out of their reach. Which doesn't mean that they don't know what their talking about historically, but that its spiritual impact is beyond them. As believers we listen, we discern, we think, we ask questions at all times. Both to those outside the house of God as well as to those within the house of God. We are at all times culpable (accountable, but flawed) for our interpretation of God and life.
At the last, the Bible for the Christian must be as theological as it is historical, as personal as it is reflective. But it must be historical if it is to be theological. That is, the Jesus of history must also be the Jesus of my Christian faith. The trick is to know what kind of Jesus and Bible we as Christians read. Thus my plea today to divide God's Word carefully using all the resources at hand, and not just our favorite dogmas that reinforce our views (say a preferred church view, for example). For me, literalism doesn't work. It misleads. It misinforms. It doesn't quite fill out the complexity of God's story blending with His creation and with humanity's movement and change.
Hence, the external factors cited above are just some of the observed influences that help open-up and recreate a storyteller's story. By transference, by the time Israel began codifying its Hebraic canon (or Old Testament) in the Second Temple period (600-500 BC) many of its historical events, social movements, and personal experiences of God had already occurred as complete. By the time of its codification Israel had suffered exile into Babylonian lands and there God used this time of "wilderness experience" to teach His people again about Himself (thus the stories of the Exodus, and cycles of judgment in Judges and the prophetic books). These stories held RELEVANCE to Israel's shattered faith as it began to purposefully reconstruct what was left of her belief in God and disbelief in themselves as final anchors in the world of men. At the last, through Daniel and Nehemiah, God restored His people to the land of Canaan, but as a broken people broken into a thousand different pieces, belief groups, and religious viewpoints about God as found in her Intertestamental period between Malachi and Matthew (400BC - 6 BC).
Each of Israel's collective histories paid homage to her belief that God had not abandoned them. That He would lead them to a more sure salvation than by the works of her own hands. To a Messiah that would come, filled with the Spirit of God, declaring by word, deed, and very life, God's love and mercy, justice and wisdom, forgiveness and hope. Each of these collective stories having been preserved by the priests of the restored Second Temple wishing to tell about their God who redeemed them. Their recommitment to this God of their faith. And Israel's place in the world as herald-and-banner to the Messiah to come. As they reconstructed the Old Testament Scriptures they were reconstructing their spiritual beliefs and assurances. Which was not an easy task considering that the worship of God and His Word was not written down in whole, but in part (at best it resided in incomplete fragments and disseparate scrolls). Or dependent upon faded oral stories from long, long ago. Whose temple scrolls had been lost, or ill-preserved, or had undergone desperate times of regional/national upheaval in Israel's life. Times like being forgotten for decades - neither rehearsed nor practiced. Disobeyed. Lost by war, by pride, by Baal worship. And by dominating selective religious interests (sic, Aaron's desire to make an image of God; Joshua and Judges cycles of rebellion and doubt; Samuel's laxity as a great high priest before God; Northern Israel's separation from the Kingdom of Judah, etc).
This was Israel's history. A history filled with societal turmoil amid its spiritual development, and redemptive evolution, from Abraham to Jesus through 1500 years of historical formation. As an example, try retelling America's story of colonialization to its citizens living within the period of the Revolutionary War 350 years ago.... Our modern stories of America's birth will probably sound very unlike how those living in the 18th Century would have retold America's early history. What worked for those early American societies does not have the same impact upon us here today. Even so, Israel's view of itself had changed over the long years of its societal birth and formation. Let us, as readers of God's Word, become then more careful discerners to the Word of God, and not be so easily swayed by pulpit or press just what is, or what is not, God's Word.... My guess is that it is a lot more complex and forgiving than we would like to make it out to be by our pet theories or interpretations. My guess is that God is amazing even as His re-creation in our lives can be too. If anything, Israel's history is one of recreation at the hands of an amazing God. One they misunderstood and didn't count on. Of a God who lifted them up to praise His name even as King David had raised his banners to his God in Psalms, and hymns, and on musical instruments. This is the kind of redeemer God who is beyond our imagination. Who forgives our sin. Our shortcomings. Our disbelief. Who tells us that He loves us as no other. Who will give us life by His life in Jesus. And spiritual assurance. And presence when we had none but ourselves, lost and alone in our own wilderness of sin and turmoil. This is the kind of God that the Scriptures do testify of. To this we may only proclaim Amen, and Amen. Thus is Israel's testament to her own remembered history even as we do today with ours.
R.E. Slater
August 2, 2013
* * * * * * * * * *
Archaeology and the Exodus Story as a “Mnemo-Narrative”
(and no cracks about “finding mnemo” please)
by Peter Enns
July 30, 2013
Below is a half-hour video passed on to me a while back by an archaeologist friend of mine. It is of a lecture given by Israeli archaeologist Aren Maeir of Bar Ilan University.
The lecture is entitled, “Can Archaeological Correlates for the Mnemo-Narrative of Exodus be Found?” I think I embed the video properly, but if not, you can click the link above.
I find this sort of thing fascinating. Maeir’s main point is that the exodus story in the Bible is the end product of narratives (plural) that came down to the biblical writer from different times and which he compiled into a narrative (singular). He compares the exodus story to an archaeological tell–dig down and you go further back in time to earlier stages of the story.
Part of Maeir’s lecture focuses on what he feels are misuses of archaeology by those who seek to find correlation between archaeological findings and the biblical narrative. One of the problems with that approach is that the “biblical narrative,” though still capable of depicting history, is nevertheless a memory–a “mnemo-narrative.”
Following the work of such scholars as Jan Assmann, Maeir points out that memories are not simply reports of events but reconstructions of events.
Common experience will bear this out when we think of how we recall the past as individuals. We, often unwittingly, shape our retelling of the past to reflect how we see the past and ourselves in general. We collapse together discreet events, we invent dialogue, etc., not to deceive but to in an effort to bring the past into our current experience of ourselves.
Understanding the biblical story of the exodus as a mnemo-narrative, Maeir argues, helps explain why there is no archaeological support for it–even though an event of this magnitude could not stay in hiding for long.
Based on how these things are normally handled in the ancient world, one would expect Egyptian sources not to ignore the departure of about 2,000,000 slaves and the crippling of the Egyptian power base (as in the plagues). They would need to explain it, i.e., they would have to spin it, as, say, an indication that their gods were angry with them for some failure. That is a common way that ancient cultures “explained” military defeat. The worse the defeat, the better an explanation was needed.
Maeir reasons that archaeology and the biblical narrative do not match up not so much because nothing happened, but because of the nature of the biblical narrative as a mnemo-narrative. The exodus story that we have is the result of a process of “remembering” the past through ongoing reception and appropriation over time. Those memories were–as are all memories–transformed and shaped by those very communities that embrace and transmit them.
Seeking correspondence between archaeology and the biblical narrative of the exodus is, therefore, misguided, for it treats the biblical narrative is a single-layered report handed down essentially unchanged from early on and that can be placed side-by-side with potential archaeological remains.
Put another way, the exodus story we have in the Bible, whatever its historical foundation might be, is a story that is not open to archaeological verification because the story reflects more how later Israelite communities came to understand the past in view of their present purposes for remembering.
On one level, there is nothing tremendously new here, though Maeir helpfully brings the study of memory to bear on the perennial issue of archaeology and the Bible.
Any thoughts on this, especially from those who might be abreast of biblical archaeology and the process of memory?
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