chastened intuitions

My blog has needed an update for quite some time. At first, "seminary mom" made sense. I was a mom in seminary, and this somewhat unusual combination of vocations defined my educational journey. Then we moved to Wheaton for PhD studies and happened to land on Seminary Avenue. That gave my url a few more years of relevance (at least for those who knew where to find me!). I've been running on fumes for two years now, far from seminary and from Seminary avenue. And though my hands and my heart are both full, it was time for a change of title as well.

So here it is!

Starting today you can find my blog at www.carmenjoyimes.blogspot.com. I've re-titled it "Chastened Intuitions," and for that I owe you an explanation. The idea came to me several years ago while reading John Barton's Reading the Old Testament: Method in Biblical Study. Barton has the guts to say what many biblical scholars avoid admitting (to themselves or anybody else): competent reading of Scripture involves a great deal of intuition.

In his words, "much harm has been done in biblical studies by insisting that there is, somewhere, a 'correct' method which, if only we could find it, would unlock the mysteries of the text" (5). He examines a whole spate of methods (literary criticism, form criticism, redaction criticism, the canonical approach, structuralist criticism, and new criticism), concluding that each method contributes something, but none is the be-all-end-all of biblical study. Any one of these, when taken to the extreme, collapses upon itself.*

He continues, "I propose that we should see each of our 'methods' as a codification of intuitions about the text which may occur to intelligent readers" (5). They are ways of circling the text and looking at it from different angles. Barton is not saying that the meaning of the biblical text is open to any and every interpretation, whatever a reader wishes to see, but that our intuitions are re-shaped by the reading process so that we become increasingly competent. In other words, we bring our intuitions to the text and in the process of reading we are chastened and changed by it.

This is true of life as well. We think we know how things ought to go, but they don't quite play out as we expected. We take a step back, readjust, and carry on, wiser for the experience.

I believe that when we approach the text and the world with eyes of faith, eager to learn and expecting to be changed, we become increasingly conformed to the image of Christ. Along the way our interpretations of the text and of life become more reliable.

This blog has been and will continue to be a place where I process the lessons God is teaching me as I study his word and engage his world. You're welcome to join me by reading along!

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*Sometimes Christians resist the idea of "method" in biblical study altogether because they misunderstand the doctrine of perspicuity (that is, the doctrine from the Protestant Reformation that teaches that the Scriptures are clear). While the basics of God's saving grace in Christ are communicated at a level that even a child can understand and embrace, the Bible is not an "easy read." A host of theological and practical problems arise when we assume that we should simply take the Bible "literally," without regard for its ancient context, its genre, and figurative language.

Augustine on Intellectual Honesty

I love what Augustine has to say about the pursuit of knowledge:

"All or almost all of us men love to call or consider our suspicions knowledge, since we are influenced by the credible evidence of circumstances; yet some credible things are false, just as some incredible ones are true." Augustine, Letter 153, section 22, (Page 128 of From Irenaus to Grotius: A Sourcebook for Christian Political Thought, edited by O'Donovan and O'Donovan)

Part of being intellectually honest is recognizing our own tendency to believe what we think we should believe. Academia is full of pressure to believe only what passes the test of "reason," and the church can sometimes push in the opposite direction, viewing intellectual pursuits with suspicion.

Neither approach is healthy.

Life and truth cannot be reduced to reason, just as parenting cannot be reduced to a list of rules. On the other hand, the pursuit of knowledge need not be seen as a threat to faith. If "all truth is God's truth" then He must take delight in our knowing more of His creative work so that we can worship him more fully.

We must go forward with open hands and open minds -- willing to reconsider what we think we know, and expecting that the answers may well be surprising.

on intellectual honesty

A number of months ago a kind reader introduced himself. He let me know that he was particularly interested in watching how I would be affected by the claims of critical biblical scholars (a.k.a. "liberals"). He's writing a book about how evangelicals respond to what he calls "extensive data that seems to pretty clearly rule out the traditional Christian dogma about the inspiration and authority (not just inerrancy) of Scripture, the messianic fulfillment of prophecy, the writing and canonization of the NT, etc." His big question is this: "how can one stay 'orthodox' and be intellectually honest?"

His question is a good one, and deserved a thoughtful response, so it took me quite some time to reply. You can read my full reply in the comments section here (which I deleted and reposted because I found some typos), but I came across two statements yesterday that speak to this whole issue. Both are from an essay by V. Phillips Long introducing the book Windows into Old Testament History: Evidence, Argument, and the Crisis of 'Biblical Israel.'

Long says this: "who we are as whole persons affects how we approach and assess evidence" (8).

And this: "we shall make little progress in understanding one another and in intelligently debating our competing historical judgments until we are willing more openly to explore how our judgments are fundamentally affected by our core convictions" (10). In other words, it goes both ways.

The beauty of Postmodernism is that it has made (almost) all of us aware that we speak and listen from a particular vantage point. What we find persuasive largely depends on what we already believe is true and what counts as evidence in our way of looking at things. I'm not saying there is no absolute truth. I'm simply pointing out that our disposition towards it is very much determined by where we begin.

Intellectual honesty is important to me. For that reason, I have changed my views on a number of things since I started out in seminary seven years ago. But my faith is stronger than ever. Take "messianic prophecy," for example. Meeting with Jehovah's Witnesses helped me to realize that my simple, connect-the-dots understanding of prophecy was not robust enough to account for Trinitarian doctrine. I was forced to go back to the Bible with harder questions, and I was profoundly awakened to the radical claims of the New Testament. The New Testament authors really "got" who Jesus was and what his coming meant for world history. They were not just connecting the dots. They saw Jesus as the ultimate fulfillment of what Yahweh himself had claimed to be and do. (You can read my posts on that topic here.)

I'll never forget my summer job after my senior year of high school. I was a "cast member" at Incredible Universe in Denver, where I welcomed "guests" for a shopping experience. One of my fellow cast members was a middle-aged man who worked in Software. We often talked about God in the break room. As I recall, he was not a Christian, but he admired my faith. He became concerned when he learned that I was going off to Bible College in the fall. He talked about how so many lose their faith in seminary (a.k.a. "cemetery"), and he didn't want the same to happen to me.

That was 1995. And here I am, more than 17 years later, still studying the Bible in academia and still loving Jesus. I do think about the Bible differently than I did in high school. My faith has been stretched and deepened in important ways. Some of my naivete about the Bible has been replaced, thanks to a better understanding of the ancient world and more time spent in the text. Its terrain is more exciting now than it was then, and I'm better prepared to pick up nuances in its message than I was before. Meanwhile, some of my "easy answers" about God have been replaced, thanks to the struggles of life. I no longer see him as the "anesthetist-in-chief" but my trust in Him is deeper than ever.

Wheaton is a place where students can engage openly with tough questions and other points of view and learn from critical scholarship . . . alongside professors and other students who are committed followers of Jesus, people who see the Bible as their authority for faith and life. Together we wrestle with the text and we wrestle with ourselves, seeking to live faithfully in light of what we learn. If Long is right that "who we are as whole persons affects how we approach and assess evidence," then approaching the Scriptures as believers will make a difference. It has for me.

on the place of intuition in biblical studies

John Barton's Reading the Old Testament is beautifully honest, carefully worded, and lucidly written. I wish I had read it years ago. His aim is to show that no one method in biblical studies can trump all the rest. Like an experienced tour guide, he leads students beyond the first impressions of youthful naiveté to forgotten hallways and shadowy basements of biblical criticism, showing tunnels that lead from one edifice to another as well as places where the foundations have cracked or shifted over time. Barton’s analysis is sometimes surprising and often uncomfortable, but his overall thesis is persuasive.

Barton has the courage to say what scarcely sounds "academic" enough to make it in the scholarly world: Bible reading is intuitive. Some intuitions, of course, are better shaped to handle the biblical text than others. A "perceptive reader" has what it takes.

"The primary thesis [of this book] is that much harm has been done in biblical studies by insisting that there is, somewhere, a 'correct' method which, if only we could find it, would unlock the mysteries of the text. . . . Instead, I propose that we should see each of our 'methods' as a codification of intuitions about the text which may occur to intelligent readers" (5).

So, in essence, that's what we spend a lifetime doing—shaping our intuitions so they can guide us more reliably in our reading of sacred Scripture. I will never get tired of doing it. What rich rewards await the patient and perceptive reader!

is the Bible just like any other book?

Or are there distinctively Christian ways of reading Scripture?

Todd Billings thinks so. His book is a great introduction to the theological interpretation of Scripture. According to Billings, "Something much bigger is going on in receiving, understanding, and believing the word of God than human linguistic understanding" (3). Later he explains, "Through Scripture, the Spirit addresses all of God's people, not just the original hearers" (61). Not only are we addressed, but we are invited to participate in the drama of God's action in the world. The process of interpreting Scripture is not complete until we are changed. He says, "Revelation brings not only knowledge of God but fellowship in and with the triune God, a saving fellowship that transforms believers ever deeper into Christ's image as Christ's body" (198). This fellowship extends not just vertically (with God), but also horizontally, as we are formed into a community of God-followers. This community transcends space and time, as we join those who have read Scripture in the centuries before us and in cultures around the world. Together we are transformed.

In answer to our opening question, Billings concludes, "While there are important practices of reading that apply to nonbiblical books as well as to Scripture, ultimately we should not read Scripture as we read other books. We should read it in prayer, memorize it, speak and sing it with the congregation in worship—worship that delights in telling and tasting the story of God's saving work in Christ, accessed through Scripture. We should come to Scripture, as we do to worship, with an expectation of meeting the mysterious triune God, with the prayer that we would grow in our love of God and our neighbor—becoming more like Jesus Christ" (224, emphasis mine).

Billings was here on Wheaton's campus in December serving as the outside reader for the dissertation defense of a fellow student. I'm glad to have had an opportunity to read his book. His vision of the promise of theological interpretation is coherent, compelling, and accessible to a wide range of readers. If you've been wondering what it should look like when Christians read the Bible, this book is for you!

Historical Criticism meets "Panda in the Park"

I am currently reading Craig Keener's commentary on the book of John. More accurately, I am reading the INTRODUCTION to his commentary on John - all 363 pages of it. How is it possible, you ask (at least I did!), to write that much without getting to the text itself? Allow me to illustrate with one of Easton's current favorites, Panda in the Park. It does not contain the usual authorial designation on the cover, which raises a number of questions. Was this book written anonymously? Was the text of the book merely generated by the publisher, indicating that readers should not expect a high degree of rhetorical style? Was the author's name accidentally excised from the original manuscript? Do we have access to other surviving copies of this work? Are those copies similarly anonymous? An important preliminary question, of course is the nature of literature from the period in which we assume this book to have been written. Did children's books from this period normally indicate authorship? If we can ascertain the location of the publishing house, this too could shed light on our project. Perhaps a regional preference for anonymity in children's literature could be demonstrated. Better yet, have any subsequent works quoted from this book? Do those works give us any ideas about who the original readers assumed the author to have been?

In the course of our very exhaustive analysis of every available source of information about this book and others written in its time, we make a startling discovery. The BACK cover of this book includes the following designation: "Written by Anna Milbourne". We find this fascinating. Now we have a hypothesis which we can test. How reliable is this designation? That remains to be seen. In the absence of any other specific proof of authorship (either internal or external), we must return to hypothetical reconstruction of the milieu in which the book was written. We are aware of the possibility of ghostwriting and even pseudonymity. To what degree was either practiced during this period? We find that ghostwritten books did account for a surprising percentage of sales during this book's publication, but in every case the author listed on the cover was well known. This spawns a host of other questions. Have any other works been attributed to Anna Milbourne? Were they widely distributed? Would the average reader have recognized her name as an author? Does the genre, vocabulary and style of this book significantly overlap other works proportedly written by Anna Milbourne? Can we verify that she was even alive when this book was published? If not, is there a plausible explanation for its posthumous publication?

As you can see, writing an introduction which well exceeds the length of the work itself (in our case 49 words exclusive of the title) without actually commenting on the text is not as difficult as it may sound. And these are merely the questions which need to be addressed; we haven't even hinted at the answers! However, in the absence of any strong supporting evidence to the contrary, we will probably conclude that Anna did, indeed, write the book entitled, Panda in the Park, as John likely wrote the gospel that bears his name. As Keener thoroughly demonstrates, no compelling evidence exists to exclude the possibility that he was the author. And the best evidence we do have points to him.

By now it should be abundantly clear how much this reading of Keener has enhanced my role as reader of bedtime stories to my little ones. In case it's not obvious, I will put it plainly. A book which for years has brought delight to my children, now intrigues me as well. As I recite its lines over and over from memory, my mind can engage with more fascinating questions which previously did not occur to me. And such a small price to pay!