In 1981 Walter Kaiser's book, Toward an Exegetical Theology, came out. It was a welcome book. It cost $9.95 back then.
Before proceeding, I must put forth a warning. What I am about to say/write may send the hunters of hermeneutical heretics out there to the grocery story – to buy leftovers – to buy the really rotten leftover tomatoes and eggs. And those would only be the mild, wanna-be, effeminate heretic hunters. The really professionals – those heretic hunters who reload their own ammo will be headed for the wood pile. They'll be gathering wood and bringing cans of lighter fluid and matches. And since I am not really that fond of rotten tomatoes and eggs, and even less of the kind of heat the real hunters are intent on producing, I beg for understanding. And just to be certain, I've changed our address, phone number, email address, and grown a beard.
Kaiser wrote his book to fill a gap – "a gap that has existed between the study of the Biblical text (most frequently in the original languages of Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek) and the actual delivery of messages to God's people." He was right. And his book went a long way to fill that gap.
I bring to our attention another gap – a gap equal in importance to the hermeneutical world of Biblical interpretation as Kaiser's work. This is a gap that has existed between the knowledge of the interpreter's tacit set of biased core assumptions and the study of the Biblical texts. As you can see, this gap is prior to Kaiser's. It is the gap of appropriate attention to eisegesis (reading into a text based on prior presuppositions). Wait! Before you light the match! I am calling for a new book – perhaps with the title, Toward a Theology of Eisegesis. The point would not be to incinerate. The point would not be to argue for eisegesis as a valid hermeneutical methodology. The point would be to bring eisegesis in from the proverbial hermeneutic woodshed and set it down at the discussion table. The point would be to recognize the universal presence of bias in all interpretation and to therefore present sound (biblical) principles of eisegesis. It seems that for too long we have given the academic nod to the presence of interpretive bias (everyone acknowledges it exists) but then we have simply proceeded to extol on the rules of exegesis as though our acknowledgement and such rules would be sufficient to overwhelm the bulk of bias.
So, look for the book. It may take a decade to find a publisher. The price? If you're caught buying the book, it'll likely cost you your life.
Knowing - A Novel Approach
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
A comprehensive, diachronic
metanarrative is not replaced by a single, synchronic episode. A single episode
does not (cannot) replace a metanarrative; metanarratives (that is, a string of
episodes) replace metanarratives. Metanarratives are too ingrained, too
powerful, too embedded, and too bulky to be replaced by a single event. In order to get at true meaning, any lived-in rival
metanarrative (that is, rival to God's true metanarrative) must be replaced or temporarily ignored. A rival metanarrative will not be replaced by a single episode; it can, however, be replaced by a competing, comprehensive, deemed-greater string of stories. Since this is true (or, if this is true – for those less convinced) the implications are huge.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Harbingers, harbors, and hermeneutics
Recently I was curious about
the word, harbinger. So I dug a bit into the etymology of the word. Interesting
– it hails from an old French word herbergier
which had the idea of “providing lodging for.” Further back it has roots in an old
Saxon word, heriberga, which means
“shelter for an army,” and even further back its origin is in a Germanic base
meaning “fortified place.” The word is related to harbor, and was used to
denote a person who went ahead to find lodging and a safe place for an army or
a nobleman. This harbinger person was not only the finder of a safe place of
lodging for his “employer,” but also a kind of herald as to the entourage that
was coming.
That all got me to thinking –
and yes (having studied enough Hebrew and Greek to be dangerous) I’m aware of
the hazards of just going with the etymology of a word. But the truth is we all
interpret things (books, texts, movies, cartoons, language, experiences, relationships,
events, indeed all things) from our own “place of lodging, safe shelter,
harbor, fortified place.” That place is the harbinger of how we do
hermeneutics. It’s the “world” we live in – our cultural, overarching story.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
This blog tends to center on material related to knowing and story. The idea being these two things walk hand-in-hand – knowing and story. Can't have one without the other. Some clarification concerning the "knowing"part might be in order. By knowing I do not refer to the mere accumulation of facts. Christopher Flanders, in his doctoral dissertation on shame and honor in the Thai culture, writes "Proper theological formulation then is not just for increasing understanding and knowledge but also about forging healthier modes of relationalilty." Here in the West we tend to get goose bumps when we learn stuff. Knowledge tends to be king. We take notes, ostensibly so that we can learn something, or perhaps learn better (or sometimes, to learn later). The prize for taking a test is to get enough right answers so as to prove we have mastered the knowledge (regurgitation) element of "education." The child (or adult) who gets the "right answer" in Sunday School gets more stars by his/her name. Valedictorians are smarter because they supposedly know more than the salutatorian. But knowledge is not the end. It is not king. And it should not be the ultimate goal of education – or of life. Interesting that the ancient Hebrew word we translate as "know" was much more about accruing relationship than accumulating facts.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Action is driven by purpose; people do things for a reason.
Purpose is driven by destiny; the reason for human actions is tied to the
perception of how something or someone has determined the story ends. Destiny is
driven by metanarrative; how the story ends is the final act of the
overarching, controlling, communal story in which people live. Metanarrative,
just as it generates the cosmological aspect of story, also fashions the
eschatological story portion. Metanarrative (being story) has a beginning,
middle, and an end as per Aristotle. How a story ends (the inherent, perceived
destiny) has a profound influence on the understood purpose for living within
that metanarrative. That purpose then motivates the actions of the human players
within the metanarrative. Hence, the story we truly and (often) tacitly live in is
paramount.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Morality speaks of
oughtness – how things ought to be, how life ought to be lived, how self ought
to act, how others ought to act toward self, what is right behavior, what is
wrong behavior, how is one to behave differently in different contexts, etc. It
follows logically that one’s perception of morality affects how one determines
meaning. To understand how perception of morality affects meaning one can
examine the various dimensions of a particular culture and then proceed to
analyze how that dimension determines in what way a person from that culture
thinks, behaves in relationship with others, and views reality. For example,
consider just one of the cultural dimensions – the dimension of
guilt/righteousness versus shame/honor. Parenthetically, the point of this
dimension (as well as the others) is not to communicate a stark contrast in
which there is unequivocally no mixing of the two concepts, but rather to posit
the general orientation cultures have toward one or the other model. Given that
caveat, if one has grown up in a particular shame/honor oriented culture and
has absorbed the accompanying metanarrative and worldview assumptions, life (and
all meaning within that life) will be quite different for that individual than for
someone immersed in a guilt/righteousness oriented culture. Flanders has
written an entire book (actually a published copy of his dissertation) demonstrating
and discussing the power and influence of “face” (shame) on a culture. Flanders
notes how assumptions of meaning in the West (guilt/righteousness oriented)
differ from Thai culture (shame/honor oriented). “The distinguishing mark of a
shame culture is a dependence upon what others think. Conversely, it is not the
perception of others that drives guilt culture but rather a person’s own
internal moral compass, the individual conscience.”[1]
He further notes that
The
command associated with guilt would be something like, “Stop. What you have
done is wrong and violates the standard or rule.” In contrast the command
interpreted from the perspective of shame would be, “Stop. What you have done is
wrong. You are no good.” As such, the shame command is more severe because it
is more profoundly a statement about the self, not simply an action abstracted
and isolated from the self.[2]
This is only one example of how a
single cultural dimension (perhaps better termed, “value dimension”) demonstrates
that perception of morality (what is the proper code of conduct) affects
meaning for adherents of a culture.
Monday, October 29, 2012
The story we are living out is the story we are living in. And the story we are living in is the story we are living out.
Or, said another way, (in David Naugle's new book, Philosophy: A Student's Guide), "Alasdair MacIntyre has taught us to recognize the narrative sources of the moral traditions to which we adhere, especially if we wish to establish coherent, unified lives. Our character and actions are essentially an enacted dramatic narrative. We know neither what to be or what to do unless we can answer the prior question, 'Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?' Stories are of ultimate moral significance."(Philosophy, 77).
How true. If one lives in the story of rational humanism, morality will look one way. If one lives in the story of communistic fatalism, issues of morality will look another way. Or if one lives partly in the story of biblical theism and partly in some other story, then right and wrong take on a different hue. The story is really important. As is where we live.
Or, said another way, (in David Naugle's new book, Philosophy: A Student's Guide), "Alasdair MacIntyre has taught us to recognize the narrative sources of the moral traditions to which we adhere, especially if we wish to establish coherent, unified lives. Our character and actions are essentially an enacted dramatic narrative. We know neither what to be or what to do unless we can answer the prior question, 'Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?' Stories are of ultimate moral significance."(Philosophy, 77).
How true. If one lives in the story of rational humanism, morality will look one way. If one lives in the story of communistic fatalism, issues of morality will look another way. Or if one lives partly in the story of biblical theism and partly in some other story, then right and wrong take on a different hue. The story is really important. As is where we live.
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