1. The early church did not have church membership.
If I have to pick true or false, I pick false for this one. There were definite expectations of the small churches (40-50 would have been very large indeed for a house church) of the early church. They differed from assembly to assembly. Jerusalem assemblies were drastically different from the assembly at Corinth, for example. You could get kicked out, as 1 Corinthians 5 indicates, along with other passages.
2. Everyone who comes to my church should be a member.
If I have pegged myth #1 correct, then #2 is a myth too. The New Testament and later Christianity distinguish between those who have become part of the people of God and those who do not. This does not preclude a "seeker sensitive" add on for our times. After all, 1 Corinthians 14 speaks of unbelievers coming into the assembly.
But unbelievers are not a part of the body of Christ. They are not members of the church.
3. Membership should be restricted to what the Bible requires and forbids.
I'm going to say that this is partially true in one sense and yet false in other senses.
a. It is first false because the Bible was not written to address the 21st century church. Read it. It says it was written to people who lived 2000 to 3000 years ago. Their world was quite different from our world. Doing what they did then doesn't do the same thing now.
b. So we have issues that the Bible says nothing about. The Bible says squat about abortion--don't kid yourself with the obscure verses people use that had nothing to do with abortion originally. They had words for such things in the ancient world. They're not in the Bible.
But that does not automatically mean that abortion is okay. It's about time we grew up in our hermeneutic and became a little more mature than the blind application and voodoo interpretive methods most people use.
c. The third claim I want to make here is the most important under this point. It is a good thing for there to be pockets of Christendom with unique identities within the body of Christ. Reducing the universal church to one bland set of ideology and practice is tantamount to telling the whole body of Christ just to be an eye or an ear.
For one thing, we will never agree on a singular biblical theology. This is a pipe dream. This side of the kingdom of God, Christians will always have distinct perspectives on what God requires and what is true when it comes down to specifics. It was this way even in the early church, although Acts softens the disagreements in its presentation.
It enriches the church for us to hold the core Christian faith and certain core practices in common while being diverse in our more particular understandings and practices. It enriches the church for the Brethren in Christ to practice foot washing and for the Wesleyan Church to be teetotalers. It enriches the church for Reformed folk to emphasize the sovereignty of God, the Wesleyans to emphasize victory over sin, and the Roman Catholics to emphasize good works.
Our particularity is legitimate in at least two respects: 1) we have no real choice but to see certain things as we see them and 2) certain traditions of particular groups constitute identity and are worthwhile to affirm as who we are in the body of Christ.
d. In what respect, then, is this statement true? I would say that it would be magnificent if we had a way to affirm "membership" of our local congregations even when these individuals do not believe the way we do or practice Christianity the way we do.
In my perfect world, Wesleyans would identify core Christian beliefs and practices that we required of community members. We would say, we recognize you fully as a Christian like us, not one bit less than we are. You affirm the Apostle's Creed. You follow those of the Ten commandments continued by the New Testament as manifestations of love of God and neighbor. You are not Wesleyan, but you are fully Christian.
4. The particulars of the Wesleyan Church (insert your denomination) are what the Bible requires.
Give it up. This is naivete to the height. It is appropriate for us to have a unique identity, but let's not pretend for one minute that we are the little group that just happens to have all the right interpretations, beliefs, and practices. We think we have it right on a vast many issues where we think other groups have it wrong. But we are bound to have some blind spots somewhere.
And for now we are some of the Nazirites of the body of Christ--we don't drink. Let's not pretend that this question is as simple as "what the Bible says." The Bible bids us not to be drunkards and that's about it. It is perfectly legitimate for us not to do a whole host of things--or to do a host of things--that the Bible does not require us to do or not do.
So it is perfectly legitimate for us to have covenant membership, especially when we move beyond the local congregation to the leadership of the church both local and global. In fact, if we do not have such distinctions on these levels, we will melt away into non-existence or, like non-denominational churches, go with the mindless flow of our local attendees, all under the false pretense of just reading the Bible and doing what it says. Yeah right.
5. It is wrong for there to be denominations.
In many respects I have already addressed this myth throughout above. There were distinct idea and practice groups in the early church. The Jerusalem church had a different theology and practice than Paul's churches. Apollos probably gave different advice on certain issues than Paul did. John of Revelation would not have taken Paul's tact on meat offered to idols.
The late middle ages are a testimony to what happens when everyone must believe the same. The 20000 denominations are a testimony to the absurdity of thinking we just get our beliefs from the Bible alone.
I'm calling for a more sophisticated ecclesiology, one that I think could mesh with the Wesleyan Church's division between community and covenant members. I think we've kind of stumbled on it. But I think we could actually "write the book" on 21st century ecclesiology here!
Friday, June 13, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Final General Conference Post
I left last night's service encouraged. The theme was on social holiness. The speakers, Christy Lipscombe and Jo Anne Lyon, presented concern for the whole person in a way that clearly integrated spiritual transformation with physical and social transformation. No one could accuse either of preaching a purely social gospel in any way.
I left feeling surprised by the conference. We have had good people in leadership these last years, but not leaders who inspired us or who made us feel like we really had any clear identity. I did not feel that way last night. I felt as if I was hearing some faint cries of a real voice from the Wesleyan Church.
In fact, I wondered if we have ever done anything in the last 40 years of any great significance at all. Jo Anne mentioned that in 1968, when the current form of the church emerged, we were in the Vietnam War, Bobby Kennedy had just been assassinated, as Martin Luther King Jr. before. The civil rights movement was well under way. The cold war was very chilly indeed.
And we were talking about how the rapture was going to take place.
The decades for almost a hundred years before that were spent seeking the experience of entire sanctification. I know some lives were truly changed in material ways too--at least in the early years of the twentieth century. But the middle part of that century was inward turned, legalistic, and generally insignificant in terms of impact on the world.
So we have the beginnings of the Wesleyan Methodist Church with regard to slavery and later women and we have the changing of lives in the early part of the twentieth century and the trickle thereafter.
I wondered last night if we were about to do something more worthy to be put in the annals of the universal church last night. It has been an unexpected conference for me.
I left feeling surprised by the conference. We have had good people in leadership these last years, but not leaders who inspired us or who made us feel like we really had any clear identity. I did not feel that way last night. I felt as if I was hearing some faint cries of a real voice from the Wesleyan Church.
In fact, I wondered if we have ever done anything in the last 40 years of any great significance at all. Jo Anne mentioned that in 1968, when the current form of the church emerged, we were in the Vietnam War, Bobby Kennedy had just been assassinated, as Martin Luther King Jr. before. The civil rights movement was well under way. The cold war was very chilly indeed.
And we were talking about how the rapture was going to take place.
The decades for almost a hundred years before that were spent seeking the experience of entire sanctification. I know some lives were truly changed in material ways too--at least in the early years of the twentieth century. But the middle part of that century was inward turned, legalistic, and generally insignificant in terms of impact on the world.
So we have the beginnings of the Wesleyan Methodist Church with regard to slavery and later women and we have the changing of lives in the early part of the twentieth century and the trickle thereafter.
I wondered last night if we were about to do something more worthy to be put in the annals of the universal church last night. It has been an unexpected conference for me.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
General Conference 4: Major Decision on Membership
Aside from electing JoAnn Lyon as General Superintendent, the major decision of the conference was in favor of modifying some rules on church membership. My denomination has wrestled with this issue for years and, although I believe once again it has made the right decision, this is an issue that begs for further clarity and refinement.
The issue, in my opinion, is the recognition that there is a difference between the particulars of Wesleyan identity and the particulars of Christian identity. On the one hand, it is perfectly appropriate for the Wesleyan Church to have a distinct identity with distinct beliefs and distinct practices. We believe in victory over sin. We don't drink alcohol. The universal church needs parts of the body to emphasize various pieces of the Christian puzzle more than others.
But there are also Christians who attend our churches who have, for example, a different definition of sin and a different understanding of Christian theology. And there are people who are every bit as holy as any Wesleyan who has ever lived, who drink alcohol in moderation and do so in full obedience to every word of the Bible on the subject.
The search for wisdom these last years is to recognize fully that we must affirm without reservation the equal spirituality of those in the last paragraph to us without negating the importance of our distinct voice among Chrisendom.
The resolution was to require "covenant" membership of ministers, board members, trustees, delegates, nominating committee members, lay leaders, Sunday School superintendents, etc. At the same time, community members can vote on all issues presented to the local church except votes on the reception of covenant members.
A key amendment--a compromise that helped the resolution pass--was the removal of a requirement for all local churches to recognize community membership and community members from other churches. It remains the prerogative of local churches to decide whether they will use the category or not.
Drinking was clearly the focal issue here. Can we have people in our congregations who drink voting on all church matters except the reception of covenant members? For churches with community membership, the answer is now yes.
P.S. Student membership is back (formerly called junior membership in days of yore)!
The issue, in my opinion, is the recognition that there is a difference between the particulars of Wesleyan identity and the particulars of Christian identity. On the one hand, it is perfectly appropriate for the Wesleyan Church to have a distinct identity with distinct beliefs and distinct practices. We believe in victory over sin. We don't drink alcohol. The universal church needs parts of the body to emphasize various pieces of the Christian puzzle more than others.
But there are also Christians who attend our churches who have, for example, a different definition of sin and a different understanding of Christian theology. And there are people who are every bit as holy as any Wesleyan who has ever lived, who drink alcohol in moderation and do so in full obedience to every word of the Bible on the subject.
The search for wisdom these last years is to recognize fully that we must affirm without reservation the equal spirituality of those in the last paragraph to us without negating the importance of our distinct voice among Chrisendom.
The resolution was to require "covenant" membership of ministers, board members, trustees, delegates, nominating committee members, lay leaders, Sunday School superintendents, etc. At the same time, community members can vote on all issues presented to the local church except votes on the reception of covenant members.
A key amendment--a compromise that helped the resolution pass--was the removal of a requirement for all local churches to recognize community membership and community members from other churches. It remains the prerogative of local churches to decide whether they will use the category or not.
Drinking was clearly the focal issue here. Can we have people in our congregations who drink voting on all church matters except the reception of covenant members? For churches with community membership, the answer is now yes.
P.S. Student membership is back (formerly called junior membership in days of yore)!
General Conference 3: I continue to be proud.
I continue to be proud of my denomination's maturity today, although I am sympathetic to those who watched some of our core traditions disappear today.
1. The new special directions say nothing about social dancing. In short, there is now nothing in the Wesleyan Discipline that forbids participation in dances. Since there is nothing in the Bible against dancing per se, it was always a somewhat bizarre part of our history. It is one of those traditions that does not clearly connect to morality. In fact, I would suggest that the prohibition was more of a hindrance to the gospel that makes our tradition look cultishly strange to those with whom we might want to draw toward Christ.
This is the right decision, although I deeply respect those who find the decision disconcerting.
2. The statement on the Lord's Day was amended not to specify comments on buying and selling on Sunday. This is also a major change. It is an appropriate change, however, for two reasons. First, the New Testament never equates Sunday with the Old Testament Sabbath and it explicitly in two places condemns those who would insist on Sabbath observance (Romans 14:5-6, which was brought up, and Colossians 2:16).
Secondly, very few in the Wesleyan Church follow this statement and those few have no chance of convincing the rest to change their mind. It is simply bad policy to have a rule on the books that everyone ignores. It trivializes the ones that everyone does consider important.
Again, this was the right decision, although I deeply respect and want to value those who believe they lost something very important today.
3. The traditional legalistic and prescriptive element of the church tried to assert itself several times. There was an amendment to specify "taking the LORD's name in vain" as prohibited. This amendment was voted down. Frankly, that would be included within the words "immoral and profane language" that was added.
Of course the OT "taking of the name in vain" had nothing to do with swearing but with not keeping vows made in the name of YHWH. Whether the delegates knew this or not, I am relieved that we did not end up with a statement in the Discipline on this score that reflects a lack of understanding.
There was also an attempt to remove the word "excessive" so that the special directions would say not to watch media that is violent. Again, wisdom prevailed as the word was changed to "the gratuitously violent." It was rightly recognized that movies like "The Blood Diamond" are violent but about serious world issues.
I am very sympathetic to those who feel they lost on these sorts of issues today. But I believe the church has won. These were the right decisions. Some outsiders may find these sorts of discussions strange and preposterous. How could you even be debating these things? How bizzare and insular a world!
Chalk it up that Wesleyans treat their faith very seriously. All the same, I'm proud that wisdom has won out on these things today.
1. The new special directions say nothing about social dancing. In short, there is now nothing in the Wesleyan Discipline that forbids participation in dances. Since there is nothing in the Bible against dancing per se, it was always a somewhat bizarre part of our history. It is one of those traditions that does not clearly connect to morality. In fact, I would suggest that the prohibition was more of a hindrance to the gospel that makes our tradition look cultishly strange to those with whom we might want to draw toward Christ.
This is the right decision, although I deeply respect those who find the decision disconcerting.
2. The statement on the Lord's Day was amended not to specify comments on buying and selling on Sunday. This is also a major change. It is an appropriate change, however, for two reasons. First, the New Testament never equates Sunday with the Old Testament Sabbath and it explicitly in two places condemns those who would insist on Sabbath observance (Romans 14:5-6, which was brought up, and Colossians 2:16).
Secondly, very few in the Wesleyan Church follow this statement and those few have no chance of convincing the rest to change their mind. It is simply bad policy to have a rule on the books that everyone ignores. It trivializes the ones that everyone does consider important.
Again, this was the right decision, although I deeply respect and want to value those who believe they lost something very important today.
3. The traditional legalistic and prescriptive element of the church tried to assert itself several times. There was an amendment to specify "taking the LORD's name in vain" as prohibited. This amendment was voted down. Frankly, that would be included within the words "immoral and profane language" that was added.
Of course the OT "taking of the name in vain" had nothing to do with swearing but with not keeping vows made in the name of YHWH. Whether the delegates knew this or not, I am relieved that we did not end up with a statement in the Discipline on this score that reflects a lack of understanding.
There was also an attempt to remove the word "excessive" so that the special directions would say not to watch media that is violent. Again, wisdom prevailed as the word was changed to "the gratuitously violent." It was rightly recognized that movies like "The Blood Diamond" are violent but about serious world issues.
I am very sympathetic to those who feel they lost on these sorts of issues today. But I believe the church has won. These were the right decisions. Some outsiders may find these sorts of discussions strange and preposterous. How could you even be debating these things? How bizzare and insular a world!
Chalk it up that Wesleyans treat their faith very seriously. All the same, I'm proud that wisdom has won out on these things today.
Monday, June 09, 2008
JoAnne Lyon Elected General Superintendent!
I'm not always proud of my church, The Wesleyan Church. I like to taut the fact that we stood against slavery when the Methodist Episcopal Church refused to take a stand. I like to mention that we ordained women in the late 1800's (the Methodists didn't do it till the 1950's).
But I also know the coffee cooler grumbling among some significants in the church against women in ministry and I hear rumors of racism. A friend of mine did a study of certain Wesleyan district conferences in the 60's--almost no mention of the civil rights movement with the exception of a few motions on the wrong side of the issue. One Wesleyan church in Alabama made the Associated Press when the pastor called the police to keep some in his congregation from going violent with some Taladega College students who came and sat in the back of the church on an Easter morning.
I believed with all my heart that God wanted The Wesleyan Church to elect JoAnne Lyon as general superintendent of our church. But I'll confess I had doubts that we were spiritually mature enough to do it.
I'm not always proud of my church. Today, I am proud of my church. I am filled with hope that we might actually made a positive difference in the world for God.
And after hearing Dr. Lyon's passioned vision for the future of the church, get ready. By God's grace we're about to get moving!
P.S. Today's been filled with unusual excitement for a General Conference, which I usually consider the height of boredom. See the denominational DJ for this WWF match: Keith Drury.
But I also know the coffee cooler grumbling among some significants in the church against women in ministry and I hear rumors of racism. A friend of mine did a study of certain Wesleyan district conferences in the 60's--almost no mention of the civil rights movement with the exception of a few motions on the wrong side of the issue. One Wesleyan church in Alabama made the Associated Press when the pastor called the police to keep some in his congregation from going violent with some Taladega College students who came and sat in the back of the church on an Easter morning.
I believed with all my heart that God wanted The Wesleyan Church to elect JoAnne Lyon as general superintendent of our church. But I'll confess I had doubts that we were spiritually mature enough to do it.
I'm not always proud of my church. Today, I am proud of my church. I am filled with hope that we might actually made a positive difference in the world for God.
And after hearing Dr. Lyon's passioned vision for the future of the church, get ready. By God's grace we're about to get moving!
P.S. Today's been filled with unusual excitement for a General Conference, which I usually consider the height of boredom. See the denominational DJ for this WWF match: Keith Drury.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Hello from General Conference
Don't have much time to post this weekend. I'm at the General Conference of the Wesleyan Church, mainly exploring the possibility of the Wesleyan Church finally having its own seminary. We think we are on to some innovative possibilities, if of course accreditating bodies think they are worthy.
If I had time for a full post, I might post my reflections on the juxtaposition of the first 40 pages of Everything Must Change by Brian McLaren (that I read on the plane down) and the missions service here Saturday night. Very interesting.
For all its eccentricities, denominational families are, well, families. People you know at every turn, and they're all in a good mood... at least until the business sessions begin tomorrow. See Keith Drury's blog for that scoop!
If I had time for a full post, I might post my reflections on the juxtaposition of the first 40 pages of Everything Must Change by Brian McLaren (that I read on the plane down) and the missions service here Saturday night. Very interesting.
For all its eccentricities, denominational families are, well, families. People you know at every turn, and they're all in a good mood... at least until the business sessions begin tomorrow. See Keith Drury's blog for that scoop!
Friday, June 06, 2008
Friday Review: Bauckham's "Throne of God"
Today I want to reflect on a paper Richard Bauckham gave at a conference in St. Andrews in 1998: "The Throne of God and the Worship of Jesus." It is now a chapter in The Jewish Roots of Christological Monotheism: Papers from the St. Andrews Conference on the Historical Origins of the Worship of Jesus, edited by Carey Newman, James Davila, and Gladys Lewis.
Let me just say that St. Andrews knows to put on conferences. I don't know any place that does a better job--especially in the light of the location. I was actually present when Bauckham gave this paper (10 years ago next weekend), although I will confess to having a problem sticking with most papers of this sort if I don't have a paper copy in front of me. So I sadly admit that reading this chapter was like hearing it for the first time--except of course that it is quite typical of the other things on monotheism by Bauckham I have interacted with here.
Bauckham's thesis is now very clear to me:
1. YHWH was distinguished from all other supposed gods as a) in a completely different category, even if they might be spiritual forces of some kind, b) this uniqueness had to do with YHWH being the sole Ruler of all things and c) YHWH being the sole Creator of all things and thus d) YHWH alone being the object of worship by all things.
This is a summary out of my head rather than the precise wording of this chapter, but these things for Bauckham constitute the "unique identity of the one God."
2. Among "intermediary figures," we can distinguish figures like wisdom and the logos that are included within God's unique identity and other figures such as exalted patriarchs and angels who were never included within that identity.
3. The exaltation to God's right hand that the early Christians understood through Psalm 110:1, because it associated Christ with God's throne, would have immediately implied to the early Christians, says Bauckham, that Jesus was included within God's unique identity. That would thus mean that he was involved with creation and the rule of all things and could receive the worship afforded the one God.
This train of thought is logical enough, but seems to me to assume too many "musts" based on ideological constructs like "God's unique identity" (which as Bauckham acknowledges is not an expression we actually find in any of these texts).
With regard to the throne of God, the focus of this chapter, Bauckham argues that "the throne of God in the highest heaven became a key symbol of monotheism... While a few traces of other enthroned figures associated with God's rule can be found, the subordination of such figures to God's rule is almost always stressed, while the overwhelming trend of the literature is towards emptying heaven of all thrones except God's" (53).
I can go for that--except I question the word monotheism. As he makes clear in his treatment of MacDonald we mentioned earlier, the word is not a biblical word. It is an Enlightenment word. I would prefer to say that the throne of God in the highest heaven reflects the sole rulership of God over every other being and power among all things.
Let me also say that "the subordination of such figures to God's rule" also jumps out at me given comments in the NT like 1 Cor. 15:28: "When he has done this [put everything under Christ], then the Son himself will be made subject to him who put everything under him, so that God may be all in all" and Philippians 2:11, "And every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." These verses clearly subordinate the rulership of Christ to that of God the Father.
As an aside, these verses are "pre-orthodox." They do not yet reflect the full Christian understanding of the persons of the Trinity and their interrelationships. My purposes here are not to deny the orthodox Christian understanding but to ask where Paul was in the flow of revelation given his Jewish/Greco Roman context. Although it is debated among Christians currently, I am quite willing to affirm by faith the orthodox understanding that there is no subordination among the persons of the Godhead. Orthodoxy has generally understood passages like 1 Corinthians 15:28 in the light of Christ's humanity rather than his divinity, a distinction of course that I suspect Paul would not yet be able to understand.
Perhaps the most interesting part of Bauckham's paper are his discussions of three possible exceptions to his claim that only God can be on the throne.
1. Wisdom on the Throne
Here Bauckham looks at 1 Enoch 84 (from the Dream Visions) and Wisdom 9. Bauckham is right to see these as completely coherent with "monotheism." These are clearly personifications of God's wisdom.
The alternative to Bauckham sees the path to protological language about Christ through the path of wisdom and word. Psalm 110:1 places Christ at God's right hand--"wisdom" is at God's right hand--Christ embodies the meaning, the logos, of creation and is the instrument of new creation--equation of Christ with God's wisdom and logos. Philippians 2 remains the strongest argument against this perspective, in my opinion.
2. Moses on the Throne
Bauckham here treats Ezekiel the Tragedian's (ca. 200BC) placement of Moses on God's throne over all things. His reading seems plausible enough to me. Exegesis of Exodus, influenced by Genesis, leads to this image. The key passage is Exodus 7:1, where God tells Moses, "I will make you god to Pharaoh." Thus the metaphor of Moses on God's throne is God making Moses god to the universe. But it is not really God's throne but an image relating to Moses in relation to the Egyptians.
This picture does not violate "monotheism" because Moses is clearly subordinated to God's rule and in fact rules for God. His placement on God's throne makes us a little uncomfortable, but it is within the parameters of God's sole rule. I like Bauckham's interpretation, but Ezekiel T still puts Moses relative to God's rule on the throne of all things.
3. Son of Man in the Parables of Enoch
By far the most interesting parallel is the Son of Man in the Parables of Enoch. The Son of Man is seated on the divine throne over all things and judges the world. "All those who dwell on the earth will fall and worship before him" (48.5). Bauckham says this is the "exception which proves the rule" (60).
But the problem is that this is Bauckham's rule. How is it not rather the "evidence that undermines his paradigm"? I don't think anyone questions that the Son of Man here is subordinated to the Ancient of Days. But apparently it was okay for such a figure to mediate God's rule.
Further, worship itself is an ambiguous concept. It was appropriate to "bow the knee" to a king, which is one of the words for worship. It is not clear to me that Bauckham or Hurtado have in any way demonstrated that Jewish thought could not accommodate "bowing the knee" to a ruler of all things who was clearly subordinated to the Ruler of all things.
Bauckham has called an exception one of the clearest parallels to the NT in Jewish literature on this topic. I'm a little puzzled that Bauckham distances Matthew 25 from these passages in the Parables. It reminds me of Simon Gathercole's distancing of Sirach and wisdom passages from Matthew. In both cases I suspect that interpreter bias is the ultimate cause rather than an inductive reading of the evidence.
Let me just say that St. Andrews knows to put on conferences. I don't know any place that does a better job--especially in the light of the location. I was actually present when Bauckham gave this paper (10 years ago next weekend), although I will confess to having a problem sticking with most papers of this sort if I don't have a paper copy in front of me. So I sadly admit that reading this chapter was like hearing it for the first time--except of course that it is quite typical of the other things on monotheism by Bauckham I have interacted with here.
Bauckham's thesis is now very clear to me:
1. YHWH was distinguished from all other supposed gods as a) in a completely different category, even if they might be spiritual forces of some kind, b) this uniqueness had to do with YHWH being the sole Ruler of all things and c) YHWH being the sole Creator of all things and thus d) YHWH alone being the object of worship by all things.
This is a summary out of my head rather than the precise wording of this chapter, but these things for Bauckham constitute the "unique identity of the one God."
2. Among "intermediary figures," we can distinguish figures like wisdom and the logos that are included within God's unique identity and other figures such as exalted patriarchs and angels who were never included within that identity.
3. The exaltation to God's right hand that the early Christians understood through Psalm 110:1, because it associated Christ with God's throne, would have immediately implied to the early Christians, says Bauckham, that Jesus was included within God's unique identity. That would thus mean that he was involved with creation and the rule of all things and could receive the worship afforded the one God.
This train of thought is logical enough, but seems to me to assume too many "musts" based on ideological constructs like "God's unique identity" (which as Bauckham acknowledges is not an expression we actually find in any of these texts).
With regard to the throne of God, the focus of this chapter, Bauckham argues that "the throne of God in the highest heaven became a key symbol of monotheism... While a few traces of other enthroned figures associated with God's rule can be found, the subordination of such figures to God's rule is almost always stressed, while the overwhelming trend of the literature is towards emptying heaven of all thrones except God's" (53).
I can go for that--except I question the word monotheism. As he makes clear in his treatment of MacDonald we mentioned earlier, the word is not a biblical word. It is an Enlightenment word. I would prefer to say that the throne of God in the highest heaven reflects the sole rulership of God over every other being and power among all things.
Let me also say that "the subordination of such figures to God's rule" also jumps out at me given comments in the NT like 1 Cor. 15:28: "When he has done this [put everything under Christ], then the Son himself will be made subject to him who put everything under him, so that God may be all in all" and Philippians 2:11, "And every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." These verses clearly subordinate the rulership of Christ to that of God the Father.
As an aside, these verses are "pre-orthodox." They do not yet reflect the full Christian understanding of the persons of the Trinity and their interrelationships. My purposes here are not to deny the orthodox Christian understanding but to ask where Paul was in the flow of revelation given his Jewish/Greco Roman context. Although it is debated among Christians currently, I am quite willing to affirm by faith the orthodox understanding that there is no subordination among the persons of the Godhead. Orthodoxy has generally understood passages like 1 Corinthians 15:28 in the light of Christ's humanity rather than his divinity, a distinction of course that I suspect Paul would not yet be able to understand.
Perhaps the most interesting part of Bauckham's paper are his discussions of three possible exceptions to his claim that only God can be on the throne.
1. Wisdom on the Throne
Here Bauckham looks at 1 Enoch 84 (from the Dream Visions) and Wisdom 9. Bauckham is right to see these as completely coherent with "monotheism." These are clearly personifications of God's wisdom.
The alternative to Bauckham sees the path to protological language about Christ through the path of wisdom and word. Psalm 110:1 places Christ at God's right hand--"wisdom" is at God's right hand--Christ embodies the meaning, the logos, of creation and is the instrument of new creation--equation of Christ with God's wisdom and logos. Philippians 2 remains the strongest argument against this perspective, in my opinion.
2. Moses on the Throne
Bauckham here treats Ezekiel the Tragedian's (ca. 200BC) placement of Moses on God's throne over all things. His reading seems plausible enough to me. Exegesis of Exodus, influenced by Genesis, leads to this image. The key passage is Exodus 7:1, where God tells Moses, "I will make you god to Pharaoh." Thus the metaphor of Moses on God's throne is God making Moses god to the universe. But it is not really God's throne but an image relating to Moses in relation to the Egyptians.
This picture does not violate "monotheism" because Moses is clearly subordinated to God's rule and in fact rules for God. His placement on God's throne makes us a little uncomfortable, but it is within the parameters of God's sole rule. I like Bauckham's interpretation, but Ezekiel T still puts Moses relative to God's rule on the throne of all things.
3. Son of Man in the Parables of Enoch
By far the most interesting parallel is the Son of Man in the Parables of Enoch. The Son of Man is seated on the divine throne over all things and judges the world. "All those who dwell on the earth will fall and worship before him" (48.5). Bauckham says this is the "exception which proves the rule" (60).
But the problem is that this is Bauckham's rule. How is it not rather the "evidence that undermines his paradigm"? I don't think anyone questions that the Son of Man here is subordinated to the Ancient of Days. But apparently it was okay for such a figure to mediate God's rule.
Further, worship itself is an ambiguous concept. It was appropriate to "bow the knee" to a king, which is one of the words for worship. It is not clear to me that Bauckham or Hurtado have in any way demonstrated that Jewish thought could not accommodate "bowing the knee" to a ruler of all things who was clearly subordinated to the Ruler of all things.
Bauckham has called an exception one of the clearest parallels to the NT in Jewish literature on this topic. I'm a little puzzled that Bauckham distances Matthew 25 from these passages in the Parables. It reminds me of Simon Gathercole's distancing of Sirach and wisdom passages from Matthew. In both cases I suspect that interpreter bias is the ultimate cause rather than an inductive reading of the evidence.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Book Review: Borg's Jesus
I have a student finishing up his graduation requirements with an independent study reading two books. The first is Marcus Borg's Jesus: Uncovering the Life, Teachings, and Relevance of a Religious Revolutionary. Here are some of my thoughts after reading through this book.
1. First, it is probably a book for more mature evangelicals rather than for the impressionable or of shaky faith. While Marcus Borg has a strong personal faith, it is not a traditional faith and certainly not an evangelical faith. Borg started out a fairly conservative Lutheran but found himself intellectually unable to maintain that faith in a traditional form the further he went in his studies.
The result is that he has continued in faith in the only way he knows how. This is a faith that embraces the human side of Christian faith without committing to an objective God or resurrected Christ in a traditional sense. He affirms Christian spirituality as real, just as he would affirm Buddhist or Jewish spirituality. If I remember correctly Ben Witherington characterized his Jesus as a new age Jesus.
Borg now refers to Jesus as a mystic. I read his Jesus: A New Vision back in the 90's in preparation to make some lectures in England on the historical Jesus. This is a great improvement on that book in many ways.
2. But this makes Borg a good read for someone who is about to throw the Christian towel in completely. Borg, like Bultmann before, is keenly interested in legitimating Christian faith. At several points in this book he says things like "Believe what you wish with regard to whether this happened historically or not, but do not miss the real point, which is the more-than-literal meaning of this story."
Borg will be attractive to many emergents, and he hopes to be helpful to them. His Jesus is a Jesus who appeals to the part of Jesus and Christianity that they see as the part most important and valuable in our current context. His message fits with themes like generous orthodoxy and explicitly mentions Jim Wallis' God's Politics with approval in his epilogue.
3. ... which of course means that opponents to the emerging and to the Sojourners movement will attempt to assassinate them by association. Let me say before anyone tries to do this that this is logically invalid. X advocates such and such and Y advocates such and such; therefore X is Y is an invalid argument--ticks me off when Christians make God look stupid. Don't be stupid--Wallis and McClaren don't agree with Borg's understanding of God or Christ.
4. For mature evangelicals, this book is a very convenient look "outside our bubble." Borg was a part of the famed Jesus Seminar. He considers the books of the Bible a human response to the sacred but clearly rejects any claim that it might be inerrant. He matter of factly says things like, "mainline scholars do not see the stories of Jesus' birth as historically factual reports" (62).
That is not to say that there is not a good deal of correct information here and historical insights. With a sensitive guide to walk with you through the book, a person can go a 1000 miles ahead in his or her understanding of the first century context in which Jesus walked. A fundamentalist will jump off Borg's boat soon, an evangelical at some point a little further. To remain orthodox, you will need to jump off a little further on the way.
But for some who were poised to leave Christianity all together, this book might convince you to stay.
1. First, it is probably a book for more mature evangelicals rather than for the impressionable or of shaky faith. While Marcus Borg has a strong personal faith, it is not a traditional faith and certainly not an evangelical faith. Borg started out a fairly conservative Lutheran but found himself intellectually unable to maintain that faith in a traditional form the further he went in his studies.
The result is that he has continued in faith in the only way he knows how. This is a faith that embraces the human side of Christian faith without committing to an objective God or resurrected Christ in a traditional sense. He affirms Christian spirituality as real, just as he would affirm Buddhist or Jewish spirituality. If I remember correctly Ben Witherington characterized his Jesus as a new age Jesus.
Borg now refers to Jesus as a mystic. I read his Jesus: A New Vision back in the 90's in preparation to make some lectures in England on the historical Jesus. This is a great improvement on that book in many ways.
2. But this makes Borg a good read for someone who is about to throw the Christian towel in completely. Borg, like Bultmann before, is keenly interested in legitimating Christian faith. At several points in this book he says things like "Believe what you wish with regard to whether this happened historically or not, but do not miss the real point, which is the more-than-literal meaning of this story."
Borg will be attractive to many emergents, and he hopes to be helpful to them. His Jesus is a Jesus who appeals to the part of Jesus and Christianity that they see as the part most important and valuable in our current context. His message fits with themes like generous orthodoxy and explicitly mentions Jim Wallis' God's Politics with approval in his epilogue.
3. ... which of course means that opponents to the emerging and to the Sojourners movement will attempt to assassinate them by association. Let me say before anyone tries to do this that this is logically invalid. X advocates such and such and Y advocates such and such; therefore X is Y is an invalid argument--ticks me off when Christians make God look stupid. Don't be stupid--Wallis and McClaren don't agree with Borg's understanding of God or Christ.
4. For mature evangelicals, this book is a very convenient look "outside our bubble." Borg was a part of the famed Jesus Seminar. He considers the books of the Bible a human response to the sacred but clearly rejects any claim that it might be inerrant. He matter of factly says things like, "mainline scholars do not see the stories of Jesus' birth as historically factual reports" (62).
That is not to say that there is not a good deal of correct information here and historical insights. With a sensitive guide to walk with you through the book, a person can go a 1000 miles ahead in his or her understanding of the first century context in which Jesus walked. A fundamentalist will jump off Borg's boat soon, an evangelical at some point a little further. To remain orthodox, you will need to jump off a little further on the way.
But for some who were poised to leave Christianity all together, this book might convince you to stay.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Propositions versus Proverbs
Part of the introduction to the logic chapter of my philosophy book:
_____________________
This chapter sets out some of the basic rules and mistakes people make when thinking and arguing both deductively and inductively. It is concerned not just with whether a proposition or “truth claim” is true or false. It is about valid and invalid ways to move from one thought to the next.
We should also make clear the difference between a proposition and the kinds of things we often say in ordinary language. “I’ll never forget how happy I was to get that dog” is not a proposition. For one thing, it is a hyperbole, an exaggerated comment. You may very well forget, especially if you get senile in old age or get Alzheimer’s disease. Propositions are usually literal rather than metaphorical or figurative statements.[i]
It is also not a statement about what is always true about something. A propositional version of this statement might be something like, “People are always happy when they get dogs.” Of course, this statement is not true as a proposition, since many people do not like dogs, and sometimes even individuals who generally like dogs do not like the ones they get. To be true, a proposition must always be true.
For this reason, it is important to distinguish proverbs and most statements in the Bible from propositions. For example, take Proverbs 22:6: “Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it” (TNIV). This is not a proposition, because it is not something that is always true. It is a general principle that is usually true but sometimes through no fault of their parents children choose to go down the wrong paths.
A great example of the “proverbial” nature of biblical statements appears in Proverbs 26:4-5 which says in succession, “Do not answer fools according to their folly” and then in the next verse, “Answer fools according to their folly.” Since one of the rock bottom principles of logic is the law of non-contradiction, both of these statements cannot be true as propositions. However, since proverbs are not statements of absolute truth but of general truth, both of these statements are true as proverbs.
It is important to recognize that the vast majority of biblical statements are not meant as propositions—they are not made as absolute statements of truth that do not have exception. Here we are talking about statements of truth rather than commands (although we will see in chapter 11 that most of the Bible’s ethical commands similarly do not function on the level of exceptionless absolutes). And we are not talking about the many figurative and metaphorical statements in the Bible. Jesus in particular seemed to have used metaphor and hyperbole extensively in his teaching, as we see in his use of parables.
Take Jesus’ intriguing statement to the Syro-Phoenician woman in Mark 7:27, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.” To start out, this is a metaphor. We might literally put it, “It is not right for me to cast a demon out of a non-Jew” with a supporting statement, “My exorcist ministry is for Jews.” However, neither of these statements is a proposition. If they were, they would be false—or else Jesus did wrong when he then went on to cast the demon out of the woman’s daughter.
In the end, the books of the Bible were written to address ancient Israelites, Romans, Corinthians, and so forth. The statements these writings make were made not only in these contexts, but in terms that people from these ancient cultures could understand. It is the exception, rather than the rule, to find propositional statements like “there is but one God, the Father… and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ” (1 Cor. 8:6).[ii] Our default expectation is that biblical statements are qualified by their historical-cultural contexts and that even then they are more general statements than exceptionless propositions.
[i] Although George Lakoff and Mark Johnson have made a good case that not only speech but even our concepts are ultimately metaphorical in nature (Metaphors We Live By, [Chicago: University of Chicago, 1980]). Nevertheless, the distinction between literal and metaphorical stands when we think of the literal as the ordinary use of words and metaphors as an unusual use of words based on comparing them to other things that are unlike them.
[ii] Interestingly, Paul does not exactly word this statement like a proposition, introducing it with the relativizing phrase, “for us there is…”
_____________________
This chapter sets out some of the basic rules and mistakes people make when thinking and arguing both deductively and inductively. It is concerned not just with whether a proposition or “truth claim” is true or false. It is about valid and invalid ways to move from one thought to the next.
We should also make clear the difference between a proposition and the kinds of things we often say in ordinary language. “I’ll never forget how happy I was to get that dog” is not a proposition. For one thing, it is a hyperbole, an exaggerated comment. You may very well forget, especially if you get senile in old age or get Alzheimer’s disease. Propositions are usually literal rather than metaphorical or figurative statements.[i]
It is also not a statement about what is always true about something. A propositional version of this statement might be something like, “People are always happy when they get dogs.” Of course, this statement is not true as a proposition, since many people do not like dogs, and sometimes even individuals who generally like dogs do not like the ones they get. To be true, a proposition must always be true.
For this reason, it is important to distinguish proverbs and most statements in the Bible from propositions. For example, take Proverbs 22:6: “Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it” (TNIV). This is not a proposition, because it is not something that is always true. It is a general principle that is usually true but sometimes through no fault of their parents children choose to go down the wrong paths.
A great example of the “proverbial” nature of biblical statements appears in Proverbs 26:4-5 which says in succession, “Do not answer fools according to their folly” and then in the next verse, “Answer fools according to their folly.” Since one of the rock bottom principles of logic is the law of non-contradiction, both of these statements cannot be true as propositions. However, since proverbs are not statements of absolute truth but of general truth, both of these statements are true as proverbs.
It is important to recognize that the vast majority of biblical statements are not meant as propositions—they are not made as absolute statements of truth that do not have exception. Here we are talking about statements of truth rather than commands (although we will see in chapter 11 that most of the Bible’s ethical commands similarly do not function on the level of exceptionless absolutes). And we are not talking about the many figurative and metaphorical statements in the Bible. Jesus in particular seemed to have used metaphor and hyperbole extensively in his teaching, as we see in his use of parables.
Take Jesus’ intriguing statement to the Syro-Phoenician woman in Mark 7:27, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.” To start out, this is a metaphor. We might literally put it, “It is not right for me to cast a demon out of a non-Jew” with a supporting statement, “My exorcist ministry is for Jews.” However, neither of these statements is a proposition. If they were, they would be false—or else Jesus did wrong when he then went on to cast the demon out of the woman’s daughter.
In the end, the books of the Bible were written to address ancient Israelites, Romans, Corinthians, and so forth. The statements these writings make were made not only in these contexts, but in terms that people from these ancient cultures could understand. It is the exception, rather than the rule, to find propositional statements like “there is but one God, the Father… and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ” (1 Cor. 8:6).[ii] Our default expectation is that biblical statements are qualified by their historical-cultural contexts and that even then they are more general statements than exceptionless propositions.
[i] Although George Lakoff and Mark Johnson have made a good case that not only speech but even our concepts are ultimately metaphorical in nature (Metaphors We Live By, [Chicago: University of Chicago, 1980]). Nevertheless, the distinction between literal and metaphorical stands when we think of the literal as the ordinary use of words and metaphors as an unusual use of words based on comparing them to other things that are unlike them.
[ii] Interestingly, Paul does not exactly word this statement like a proposition, introducing it with the relativizing phrase, “for us there is…”
Monday, June 02, 2008
Monday Thoughts: God Managing Conflict
A masters student is working on a project addressing conflict in the local church. This week they worked on a chapter looking at biblical-theological issues relating to their projects. I never like this week, even though I'm the one who set it up. I don't like it because few are equipped to do a decent job of it.
What would be a decent job to me? Something along the lines of what Richard Hays does in the issue chapters of Moral Vision. From my perspective, what inevitably comes out is a somewhat superficial, personalized reading of some passages that seem to reinforce the intuitions of whoever is doing the reading.
A seasoned pastor recently suggested to me that what the coming generation might need to address some of its deficiencies was more Bible classes. But I guarantee if I listened to one of his or her sermons I would hear pretty much the same superficial kind of mirror reading of Scripture that hears its own theological values in the text. What he or she meant was I would like to tell them what I think the Bible means and them be convinced that it is the very command of God.
I don't remember the name, but I heard someone saying something similar about the recent Evangelical Manifesto. It was something like, "We don't need a manifesto; we just need the Bible." Tell that to the other 20,000 denominations who disagree with you, all of whom are just following the Bible.
Well, all of that is aside. We were chatting a little tonight about the distinction between managing and resolving conflict. Some think that conflict is always bad and always needs to be resolved. Others prefer to speak of managing it, thinking of it as inevitable.
Part of the discussion had to do with a book that sought out five types of conflict in the Garden of Eden. The thought occurred to me that, in a sense, human history is God's managing rather than resolving conflict. True, Christ has set the resolution in motion. Resolution (salvation) is a done deal. But if the conflict began with Satan and was passed on by Adam, then human history is God managing conflict rather than resolving it... at least not immediately.
What would be a decent job to me? Something along the lines of what Richard Hays does in the issue chapters of Moral Vision. From my perspective, what inevitably comes out is a somewhat superficial, personalized reading of some passages that seem to reinforce the intuitions of whoever is doing the reading.
A seasoned pastor recently suggested to me that what the coming generation might need to address some of its deficiencies was more Bible classes. But I guarantee if I listened to one of his or her sermons I would hear pretty much the same superficial kind of mirror reading of Scripture that hears its own theological values in the text. What he or she meant was I would like to tell them what I think the Bible means and them be convinced that it is the very command of God.
I don't remember the name, but I heard someone saying something similar about the recent Evangelical Manifesto. It was something like, "We don't need a manifesto; we just need the Bible." Tell that to the other 20,000 denominations who disagree with you, all of whom are just following the Bible.
Well, all of that is aside. We were chatting a little tonight about the distinction between managing and resolving conflict. Some think that conflict is always bad and always needs to be resolved. Others prefer to speak of managing it, thinking of it as inevitable.
Part of the discussion had to do with a book that sought out five types of conflict in the Garden of Eden. The thought occurred to me that, in a sense, human history is God's managing rather than resolving conflict. True, Christ has set the resolution in motion. Resolution (salvation) is a done deal. But if the conflict began with Satan and was passed on by Adam, then human history is God managing conflict rather than resolving it... at least not immediately.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Guest Post by Jonathan: A Response on Bauckham and Dunn
Hi Ken,
Interesting stuff. I've a great interest in these questions and would appreciate your thoughts. As I've studied the various interpretations of the development of NT Christology one thing that should be obvious, but is sometimes obscured by the nitty-gritty arguments, is that our conception of what constitutes monotheism in the NT period will essentially determine what we do with the christological texts.
E.g., as we move from the OT to the NT to the post-NT period, we can historically trace the conceptual development within Judaism from henotheism to monotheism to monism. This monism is a later rabbinic development - in reaction to the post-70 experience, during which boundaries were drawn tighter and earlier diversity anathematized - certain streams of apocalyptic thought were perceived to threaten God's unity (e.g., such as what became known as the two-power heresy). My concern with the Dunn-type line of understanding is that it retrojects back this later form of monism as normative for the NT period (most often as presuppositions, e.g., see the import of Partings 2nd ed., xxvi-xxvii). Thus, Paul can't really be seen to be saying that Christ is somehow intrinsic to God's own identity (as Bauckham puts it). That would constitute ditheism, so it cannot, by Dunn's definition of monotheism, be correct.
The logic of this, within monism, is that incorporating Christ within the Shema does not make sense unless you are collapsing their identities into one another, for how can two be one monad? Thus, as Dunn says, the one Lord must be being distinguished from the one God. It’s not that this isn’t true (they’re not being collapsed into one another) but that it’s not the whole picture. I think Dunn’s position on monotheism/monism in the NT period leads him to misunderstand what Paul was doing here. Monotheism was a doctrine which distinguished the “one” (God of Israel) over against the “many” (pagan gods and lords); monotheism was not about analysing the inner-being of the one God as a monad. All the "God is one" texts even show this (e.g., Rom 3:20 - the “one” God of all people groups, it’s just not about God's internal being). The question of God’s inner-being just doesn’t seem to have been an issue until the Christian understanding of Christ and other apocalypticists started sayings things which brought the question into play.
When this is historically taken on board, then I think that what Bauckham is trying to say can be more readily understood. As Second Temple Jews were more concerned with who God is, with his identity - not about conferring ontic estimations such as that he was a monad - then it was possible for the early Christians to now say that their God should be identified with reference to Jesus (leaving the Spirit out of the discussion for now). Before Christ, it was as the God of Israel, the eternal Creator and Ruler of all; after Christ, it was as the Father who raised the Son from the dead. The identification of who their God is, has changed in the light of the Christ-event.
Thus, with respect to 1 Cor. 8, it is precisely by saying that Jesus is intrinsic (not an addition) to God’s identity that allows monotheism (not monism) to be retained. Hence the Shema can be glossed with both Father and Son. This is further reinforced by the addition of the prepositions, “from”, “for”, and “through” (Rom 11:36). Splitting them among Father and Son ensures that God’s oneness (there is only one God, not two) is preserved. This is especially evident from the use of dia, which asserts the creative action of the Son. So the Son is intrinsic to who God is, and always was. It is the historical revelation of the Son which casts new light on who their God always was. Thus, Father and Son are not collapsed into one another, but are distinguished, but within the mystery of the one God’s being, not as the one God having one Lord added. This is ditheism, as Bauckham rightly objects. Hence Paul’s usual use of theos for the Father and kurios for the Son thus allows him to distinguish between them without collapsing them into one another, yet also then allows him to avoid ditheism – as in the Christianized Shema, in which they are both held together. I’ll come to the other YHWH texts which reinforce this below.
Historically, what Bauckham argues is that Christ was raised from the dead and exalted to God’s right hand over all things. This is the historical experience. This role/status that Christ received was not something that any ordinary man or messiah figure could have. As such, the logic goes that if he is now participating in these exclusively divine prerogatives/status then he must always have done so, for the adoption/apotheosis option must be rejected within a Jewish monotheistic matrix. It is their understanding of who Christ is now by what he does that led to an epistemological shift in their perception of who he must always have been. I wonder if part of your problem with Bauckham is that he’s not always entirely clear about the difference in his thesis between the historical unfolding of events for the early Christians (temporal sequence) and their perception of what it means (logical sequence)? I.e., it looks like Jesus is being “added” historically (temporal sequence), but it is actually a recognition of who he is always was (i.e., logical sequence --> the incarnate one – the person that they knew, Jesus messiah, was actually eternally Son).
However, Bauckham’s entire line of interpretation seems patently false if we start from monism rather than from monotheism. Monism precludes this: thus, 1 Cor 8 either seems like an addition of one Lord (ditheism), or must entail a denial of Christ’s divinity to ensure God’s oneness (just a man with a derivative role in exercising God’s sovereignty). Bauckham’s argument is rather that the texts suggests a greater perception and further identification of who God is in the light of Christ. We know and identify God by his character and his acts in history, in the Christ-event he has identified himself fully. He is not a new or two Gods (by adding a second figure), but it is a new perception on our part of who he is (the God known and revealed in the face of Jesus and by his Spirit).
The fact that Paul uses YHWH texts and applies them to Jesus should reinforce all of this or else Paul’s attribution of them to Christ seems frankly blasphemous. The weakness of Dunn’s analysis of these texts is very apparent as it’s difficult to avoid their import; it doesn’t just ascribe a derivative lordship, but connotes that the one historically known and experienced as Jesus, the incarnate Son, is the one known in times past as YHWH of the OT. Bauckham’s thesis assumes the progressive revelation of who God is through time, which is partly why I pointed you to this monotheism essay. God in himself might not change, but our understanding/perception and knowledge of him do. So, especially with the Christ-event, as our beloved Hebrews says (1:1-4).
YHWH texts and messianic ‘lord’: I can’t help feeling that this is a bit of a non-issue, for the different uses of ‘Lord’ are held together in the one person of the incarnate Son as the helpful and convenient linguistic nexus of two different conceptual ideas. While connoting divinity, YHWH texts are very important, but Jesus is still also the messianic lord with a role in salvation-history to perform (e.g., 1 Cor. 15:23-28).
I can't help wondering if a Dunnian influence makes it more difficult to get to grips with Bauckham’s thesis. I’ll really look forward to hearing your thoughts on all this ;-) Sorry it’s so long!
Interesting stuff. I've a great interest in these questions and would appreciate your thoughts. As I've studied the various interpretations of the development of NT Christology one thing that should be obvious, but is sometimes obscured by the nitty-gritty arguments, is that our conception of what constitutes monotheism in the NT period will essentially determine what we do with the christological texts.
E.g., as we move from the OT to the NT to the post-NT period, we can historically trace the conceptual development within Judaism from henotheism to monotheism to monism. This monism is a later rabbinic development - in reaction to the post-70 experience, during which boundaries were drawn tighter and earlier diversity anathematized - certain streams of apocalyptic thought were perceived to threaten God's unity (e.g., such as what became known as the two-power heresy). My concern with the Dunn-type line of understanding is that it retrojects back this later form of monism as normative for the NT period (most often as presuppositions, e.g., see the import of Partings 2nd ed., xxvi-xxvii). Thus, Paul can't really be seen to be saying that Christ is somehow intrinsic to God's own identity (as Bauckham puts it). That would constitute ditheism, so it cannot, by Dunn's definition of monotheism, be correct.
The logic of this, within monism, is that incorporating Christ within the Shema does not make sense unless you are collapsing their identities into one another, for how can two be one monad? Thus, as Dunn says, the one Lord must be being distinguished from the one God. It’s not that this isn’t true (they’re not being collapsed into one another) but that it’s not the whole picture. I think Dunn’s position on monotheism/monism in the NT period leads him to misunderstand what Paul was doing here. Monotheism was a doctrine which distinguished the “one” (God of Israel) over against the “many” (pagan gods and lords); monotheism was not about analysing the inner-being of the one God as a monad. All the "God is one" texts even show this (e.g., Rom 3:20 - the “one” God of all people groups, it’s just not about God's internal being). The question of God’s inner-being just doesn’t seem to have been an issue until the Christian understanding of Christ and other apocalypticists started sayings things which brought the question into play.
When this is historically taken on board, then I think that what Bauckham is trying to say can be more readily understood. As Second Temple Jews were more concerned with who God is, with his identity - not about conferring ontic estimations such as that he was a monad - then it was possible for the early Christians to now say that their God should be identified with reference to Jesus (leaving the Spirit out of the discussion for now). Before Christ, it was as the God of Israel, the eternal Creator and Ruler of all; after Christ, it was as the Father who raised the Son from the dead. The identification of who their God is, has changed in the light of the Christ-event.
Thus, with respect to 1 Cor. 8, it is precisely by saying that Jesus is intrinsic (not an addition) to God’s identity that allows monotheism (not monism) to be retained. Hence the Shema can be glossed with both Father and Son. This is further reinforced by the addition of the prepositions, “from”, “for”, and “through” (Rom 11:36). Splitting them among Father and Son ensures that God’s oneness (there is only one God, not two) is preserved. This is especially evident from the use of dia, which asserts the creative action of the Son. So the Son is intrinsic to who God is, and always was. It is the historical revelation of the Son which casts new light on who their God always was. Thus, Father and Son are not collapsed into one another, but are distinguished, but within the mystery of the one God’s being, not as the one God having one Lord added. This is ditheism, as Bauckham rightly objects. Hence Paul’s usual use of theos for the Father and kurios for the Son thus allows him to distinguish between them without collapsing them into one another, yet also then allows him to avoid ditheism – as in the Christianized Shema, in which they are both held together. I’ll come to the other YHWH texts which reinforce this below.
Historically, what Bauckham argues is that Christ was raised from the dead and exalted to God’s right hand over all things. This is the historical experience. This role/status that Christ received was not something that any ordinary man or messiah figure could have. As such, the logic goes that if he is now participating in these exclusively divine prerogatives/status then he must always have done so, for the adoption/apotheosis option must be rejected within a Jewish monotheistic matrix. It is their understanding of who Christ is now by what he does that led to an epistemological shift in their perception of who he must always have been. I wonder if part of your problem with Bauckham is that he’s not always entirely clear about the difference in his thesis between the historical unfolding of events for the early Christians (temporal sequence) and their perception of what it means (logical sequence)? I.e., it looks like Jesus is being “added” historically (temporal sequence), but it is actually a recognition of who he is always was (i.e., logical sequence --> the incarnate one – the person that they knew, Jesus messiah, was actually eternally Son).
However, Bauckham’s entire line of interpretation seems patently false if we start from monism rather than from monotheism. Monism precludes this: thus, 1 Cor 8 either seems like an addition of one Lord (ditheism), or must entail a denial of Christ’s divinity to ensure God’s oneness (just a man with a derivative role in exercising God’s sovereignty). Bauckham’s argument is rather that the texts suggests a greater perception and further identification of who God is in the light of Christ. We know and identify God by his character and his acts in history, in the Christ-event he has identified himself fully. He is not a new or two Gods (by adding a second figure), but it is a new perception on our part of who he is (the God known and revealed in the face of Jesus and by his Spirit).
The fact that Paul uses YHWH texts and applies them to Jesus should reinforce all of this or else Paul’s attribution of them to Christ seems frankly blasphemous. The weakness of Dunn’s analysis of these texts is very apparent as it’s difficult to avoid their import; it doesn’t just ascribe a derivative lordship, but connotes that the one historically known and experienced as Jesus, the incarnate Son, is the one known in times past as YHWH of the OT. Bauckham’s thesis assumes the progressive revelation of who God is through time, which is partly why I pointed you to this monotheism essay. God in himself might not change, but our understanding/perception and knowledge of him do. So, especially with the Christ-event, as our beloved Hebrews says (1:1-4).
YHWH texts and messianic ‘lord’: I can’t help feeling that this is a bit of a non-issue, for the different uses of ‘Lord’ are held together in the one person of the incarnate Son as the helpful and convenient linguistic nexus of two different conceptual ideas. While connoting divinity, YHWH texts are very important, but Jesus is still also the messianic lord with a role in salvation-history to perform (e.g., 1 Cor. 15:23-28).
I can't help wondering if a Dunnian influence makes it more difficult to get to grips with Bauckham’s thesis. I’ll really look forward to hearing your thoughts on all this ;-) Sorry it’s so long!
Friday, May 30, 2008
Friday Review: Bauckham's "Biblical Theology and ... Monotheism
Thanks to Jonathan for putting me onto Richard Bauckham's chapter, "Biblical Theology and the Problem of Monotheism" in the collection, Out of Egypt: Biblical Theology and Biblical Interpretation.
The first part of the chapter deals with monotheism and the OT and interacts significantly with the work of Bauckham's colleague at St. Andrews, Nathan MacDonald. Bauckham is largely supportive of MacDonald's claims that the word monotheism is problematic in relation to Deuteronomy given the heavy Enlightenment baggage it brings with it. Similarly, the OT does not deny the existence of other gods.
However, Bauckham spends some time arguing in contrast to MacDonald that YHWH was put in a superior category to all other gods, not simply superior for Israel. YHWH is the only god who might appropriately be called the God. Assuming that Bauckham has read MacDonald correctly, I agree substantially with his critique here.
In the next section, Bauckham branches out to the rest of the OT (MacDonald's work is primarily with Deuteronomy) and addresses questions like when in its development Israel reached this point. I hope to go back and finish this section, but I feel like it is somewhat tangential to my purposes, which is to get to Bauckham's thought on the NT on this subject.
And here let me vent one of my pet peeves with a host of scholars "evangelical' and "liberal" alike. I'm not venting so much toward Bauckham here--he's writing a piece on biblical theology so it is perfectly acceptable for him to explore the OT in the way he does. But I want to vent on a fallacy I was also prone to when I entered seminary, one I see pop up from time to time among scholars who should know better.
Here it is: the original meaning of the Old Testament is almost completely irrelevant to the original meaning of the New Testament. Hebrew, for example, is almost completely irrelevant when interpreting the book of Hebrews because its author apparently knew almost no Hebrew. This is a kind of reverse anachronistic fallacy, to bring the original, contextual meaning of an OT passage into discussion of how a NT author understood that passage.
What is important for understanding Paul or some other NT author's use of the OT is how they are likely to have understood various OT passages in their day. The Hebrew original or the Ancient Near Eastern context is, for the most part, completely irrelevant in NT interpretation. There, I said it.
The critique is potentially extended beyond historical anachronism to a kind of literary contextual "anachronism" as well. Although I largely support Hays' "echo" movement, it seems often to border on this fallacy because it assumes that NT authors paid more attention to OT contexts than, I think, they actually did for the most part. It is not safe to assume that a NT author was mindful of an OT literary context any more than is required to make sense of the train of thought of a NT passage.
This is the rule: Infer no more OT context into your reading of a NT passage than is necessary for it to make sense.
So let's look at my real interest, Bauckham's thoughts on the NT and monotheism.
First, let me agree with this comment by Bauckham: "there is no good evidence for the idea that non-monotheistic forms of Israelite religion survived through the Second Temple period to be available to the early Christians" (218).
Romans 3:28-40
"Or is God the God of the Jews only? Is he not the God of Gentiles also? Yes... since God is one."
Bauckham concludes that for Paul, Israel's election is paradigmatic for the whole world rather than exclusive (220). This seems to be the case. God's oneness implies that God is God of the whole world and not just of the Jews.
1 Corinthians 8:1-6
"For us there is one God, the Father ... and one Lord, Jesus Christ..."
This is an important verse for Bauckham, and it shows up in several of his works on this topic. His thesis is that Paul has taken the Shema and shuffled its words around to present a Christian version of the Shema. In it the identity of the one God comes to include Jesus within it.
Take the Shema in the LXX: "The Lord our God, the Lord, is one."
Here's Paul's shuffle: one God our, one Lord (YHWH)
I must confess that I don't find Bauckham's argument very convincing. If anything, the plain sense of "There is one God for us, the Father, and one Lord, Jesus" seems to distinguish Jesus from the one God. I am reminded of Ephesians 4:5: "one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God..." Does this mean to include one faith and one baptism within the identity of the one God?
By faith I believe Jesus was God, but these aren't the verses I would normally use to argue for it! They seem straightforwardly to distinguish Jesus as Lord from the one God.
Bauckham seems to me (and N. T. Wright) to be classic examples of scholars who are ingeniously able to make sophisticated arguments for claims that a simpleton like me looks at and says, "But he says one Lord as something different from one God." If Paul was really making such an intricate claim... then why didn't he make that claim explicitly. Does a person really have to be that smart to figure out what Paul is saying?
When I first started reading Climax of the Covenant almost 15 years ago, my first thought was, Wow, Wright knows so much and sees so many connections between things. I now think many of those connections are the product of an ingenious mind set to work on polyvalent texts in ways Paul himself would find fascinating... and completely news to him!
Bauckham's problem with the most straightforward reading of 1 Cor. 8:6 is this: "If Paul were understood as adding the one Lord to the one God of whom the Shema speaks, then, from the perspective of Jewish monotheism, he would certainly be producing, not christological monotheism, but outright ditheism" (224).
My response: apparently not. Apparently not because Paul clearly maintains monotheism in this chapter and considers Jesus to be Lord as something different.
Bauckham claims, "the term 'Lord', applied here to Jesus as the 'one Lord', is taken from the Shema itself." Now this is an interesting claim and one that is worth thinking about. It seems beyond question that Paul would know that the Greek kyrios was a translation of YHWH, the name of God. Surely Paul knows that at times he uses OT kyrios passages in relation to Jesus that translate YHWH. This is a helpful contribution Bauckham often makes.
However, I wonder if Bauckham is failing to make some important distinctions in Paul's use of the word Lord. Psalm 110:1, once again, makes a clear distinction between God the Father as Lord (the translation of YHWH) and the Messiah as Lord: "The LORD said to my Lord, 'Sit at my right hand.'" In my opinion, Paul's use of the word kyrios does not consistently use OT YHWH quotes either of God the Father or Jesus. It seems inescapable to me that Paul often paid little attention to the underlying Hebrew in his use of the word.
I have similar questions about Bauckham's claim that to use protological language unavoidably places Jesus within God's "identity." Bauckham: "it was unthinkable that any being other than God could even assist God" (224). "No more unequivocal way of including Jesus in the unique divine identity is conceivable, within the framework of Second Temple Jewish monotheism."
But how does this work? Does Paul think that, because Jesus is now in the identity of God, he must have always been, including in the process of creation? If so, then Jesus does not become included in the divine identity. He must have always been.
By contrast, if Jesus becomes included within the divine identity at the point of his exaltation, then he cannot suddenly become the past agent of creation. Either he had already been there or not.
These are questions of ontology, questions that Bauckham claims his "inclusion in the divine identity" approach works around. Perhaps a sophisticated modern theologian can come up with some way for this to work. But I suspect Paul the ancient would have picked either option a or b. And if so, then Bauckham's new option fades away as we return to the two options we had before.
Either Paul and other New Testament authors began with a sense of Jesus as having pre-existed before he came to earth or language of this sort was metaphorical at first and only came to be understood literally later.
The first part of the chapter deals with monotheism and the OT and interacts significantly with the work of Bauckham's colleague at St. Andrews, Nathan MacDonald. Bauckham is largely supportive of MacDonald's claims that the word monotheism is problematic in relation to Deuteronomy given the heavy Enlightenment baggage it brings with it. Similarly, the OT does not deny the existence of other gods.
However, Bauckham spends some time arguing in contrast to MacDonald that YHWH was put in a superior category to all other gods, not simply superior for Israel. YHWH is the only god who might appropriately be called the God. Assuming that Bauckham has read MacDonald correctly, I agree substantially with his critique here.
In the next section, Bauckham branches out to the rest of the OT (MacDonald's work is primarily with Deuteronomy) and addresses questions like when in its development Israel reached this point. I hope to go back and finish this section, but I feel like it is somewhat tangential to my purposes, which is to get to Bauckham's thought on the NT on this subject.
And here let me vent one of my pet peeves with a host of scholars "evangelical' and "liberal" alike. I'm not venting so much toward Bauckham here--he's writing a piece on biblical theology so it is perfectly acceptable for him to explore the OT in the way he does. But I want to vent on a fallacy I was also prone to when I entered seminary, one I see pop up from time to time among scholars who should know better.
Here it is: the original meaning of the Old Testament is almost completely irrelevant to the original meaning of the New Testament. Hebrew, for example, is almost completely irrelevant when interpreting the book of Hebrews because its author apparently knew almost no Hebrew. This is a kind of reverse anachronistic fallacy, to bring the original, contextual meaning of an OT passage into discussion of how a NT author understood that passage.
What is important for understanding Paul or some other NT author's use of the OT is how they are likely to have understood various OT passages in their day. The Hebrew original or the Ancient Near Eastern context is, for the most part, completely irrelevant in NT interpretation. There, I said it.
The critique is potentially extended beyond historical anachronism to a kind of literary contextual "anachronism" as well. Although I largely support Hays' "echo" movement, it seems often to border on this fallacy because it assumes that NT authors paid more attention to OT contexts than, I think, they actually did for the most part. It is not safe to assume that a NT author was mindful of an OT literary context any more than is required to make sense of the train of thought of a NT passage.
This is the rule: Infer no more OT context into your reading of a NT passage than is necessary for it to make sense.
So let's look at my real interest, Bauckham's thoughts on the NT and monotheism.
First, let me agree with this comment by Bauckham: "there is no good evidence for the idea that non-monotheistic forms of Israelite religion survived through the Second Temple period to be available to the early Christians" (218).
Romans 3:28-40
"Or is God the God of the Jews only? Is he not the God of Gentiles also? Yes... since God is one."
Bauckham concludes that for Paul, Israel's election is paradigmatic for the whole world rather than exclusive (220). This seems to be the case. God's oneness implies that God is God of the whole world and not just of the Jews.
1 Corinthians 8:1-6
"For us there is one God, the Father ... and one Lord, Jesus Christ..."
This is an important verse for Bauckham, and it shows up in several of his works on this topic. His thesis is that Paul has taken the Shema and shuffled its words around to present a Christian version of the Shema. In it the identity of the one God comes to include Jesus within it.
Take the Shema in the LXX: "The Lord our God, the Lord, is one."
Here's Paul's shuffle: one God our, one Lord (YHWH)
I must confess that I don't find Bauckham's argument very convincing. If anything, the plain sense of "There is one God for us, the Father, and one Lord, Jesus" seems to distinguish Jesus from the one God. I am reminded of Ephesians 4:5: "one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God..." Does this mean to include one faith and one baptism within the identity of the one God?
By faith I believe Jesus was God, but these aren't the verses I would normally use to argue for it! They seem straightforwardly to distinguish Jesus as Lord from the one God.
Bauckham seems to me (and N. T. Wright) to be classic examples of scholars who are ingeniously able to make sophisticated arguments for claims that a simpleton like me looks at and says, "But he says one Lord as something different from one God." If Paul was really making such an intricate claim... then why didn't he make that claim explicitly. Does a person really have to be that smart to figure out what Paul is saying?
When I first started reading Climax of the Covenant almost 15 years ago, my first thought was, Wow, Wright knows so much and sees so many connections between things. I now think many of those connections are the product of an ingenious mind set to work on polyvalent texts in ways Paul himself would find fascinating... and completely news to him!
Bauckham's problem with the most straightforward reading of 1 Cor. 8:6 is this: "If Paul were understood as adding the one Lord to the one God of whom the Shema speaks, then, from the perspective of Jewish monotheism, he would certainly be producing, not christological monotheism, but outright ditheism" (224).
My response: apparently not. Apparently not because Paul clearly maintains monotheism in this chapter and considers Jesus to be Lord as something different.
Bauckham claims, "the term 'Lord', applied here to Jesus as the 'one Lord', is taken from the Shema itself." Now this is an interesting claim and one that is worth thinking about. It seems beyond question that Paul would know that the Greek kyrios was a translation of YHWH, the name of God. Surely Paul knows that at times he uses OT kyrios passages in relation to Jesus that translate YHWH. This is a helpful contribution Bauckham often makes.
However, I wonder if Bauckham is failing to make some important distinctions in Paul's use of the word Lord. Psalm 110:1, once again, makes a clear distinction between God the Father as Lord (the translation of YHWH) and the Messiah as Lord: "The LORD said to my Lord, 'Sit at my right hand.'" In my opinion, Paul's use of the word kyrios does not consistently use OT YHWH quotes either of God the Father or Jesus. It seems inescapable to me that Paul often paid little attention to the underlying Hebrew in his use of the word.
I have similar questions about Bauckham's claim that to use protological language unavoidably places Jesus within God's "identity." Bauckham: "it was unthinkable that any being other than God could even assist God" (224). "No more unequivocal way of including Jesus in the unique divine identity is conceivable, within the framework of Second Temple Jewish monotheism."
But how does this work? Does Paul think that, because Jesus is now in the identity of God, he must have always been, including in the process of creation? If so, then Jesus does not become included in the divine identity. He must have always been.
By contrast, if Jesus becomes included within the divine identity at the point of his exaltation, then he cannot suddenly become the past agent of creation. Either he had already been there or not.
These are questions of ontology, questions that Bauckham claims his "inclusion in the divine identity" approach works around. Perhaps a sophisticated modern theologian can come up with some way for this to work. But I suspect Paul the ancient would have picked either option a or b. And if so, then Bauckham's new option fades away as we return to the two options we had before.
Either Paul and other New Testament authors began with a sense of Jesus as having pre-existed before he came to earth or language of this sort was metaphorical at first and only came to be understood literally later.
Metaphors We Live By 4
Chapter 4 was an 8 page burden :-)
Lakoff and Johnson tell us that thus far in the book we have been talking about structural metaphors. Chapter 4 presents now orientational metaphors.
The first part of the chapter runs through a host of conceptual metaphors having to do with up and down, ahead and behind. Here are some examples:
Conscious is up; unconscious is down.
"Get up," "Wake up," "He fell asleep." The physical basis for this metaphor is that humans and most mammals sleep lying down and stand up when they awake.
Having control or force is up; subject to control or force is down.
"I have control over him," "I am on top of things." "He is under my control." Physical size usually correlates with physical strength, and the winner of a fight is typically on top of the loser.
Foreseeable future events are up and ahead.
Our eyes look forward as we approach things. As we approach them, the ground stays level but the height of what we are approaching increases.
Conclusions:
The concluding part of the chapter pushes toward the idea that most of our fundamental concepts are organized around spatialization metaphors. We fit these together with each other without thinking about it. These metaphors are grounded in our physical experience of the world. Things we think of as purely intellectual concepts are often, perhaps always based on metaphors with a physical or cultural basis (e.g., high energy particles).
L and J suspect that "no metaphor can ever be comprehended or even adequately represented independently of its experiential basis" (19). [Very empiricist]
Lakoff and Johnson tell us that thus far in the book we have been talking about structural metaphors. Chapter 4 presents now orientational metaphors.
The first part of the chapter runs through a host of conceptual metaphors having to do with up and down, ahead and behind. Here are some examples:
Conscious is up; unconscious is down.
"Get up," "Wake up," "He fell asleep." The physical basis for this metaphor is that humans and most mammals sleep lying down and stand up when they awake.
Having control or force is up; subject to control or force is down.
"I have control over him," "I am on top of things." "He is under my control." Physical size usually correlates with physical strength, and the winner of a fight is typically on top of the loser.
Foreseeable future events are up and ahead.
Our eyes look forward as we approach things. As we approach them, the ground stays level but the height of what we are approaching increases.
Conclusions:
The concluding part of the chapter pushes toward the idea that most of our fundamental concepts are organized around spatialization metaphors. We fit these together with each other without thinking about it. These metaphors are grounded in our physical experience of the world. Things we think of as purely intellectual concepts are often, perhaps always based on metaphors with a physical or cultural basis (e.g., high energy particles).
L and J suspect that "no metaphor can ever be comprehended or even adequately represented independently of its experiential basis" (19). [Very empiricist]
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Informal Fallacies of Logic
I'm trying to finish up a chapter on logic in the philosophy textbook today and thought I would write some about informal logical fallacies here.
Appeal to Force (argumentum ad baculum)
It should be obvious that forcing someone to hold a certain position does not make that position true. The law usually will reject a confession from a suspect that has been coerced out of them. Force is the stuff of power and politics, but it is not the stuff of logic. You cannot change what is logically true by torture or pressure.
Appeal to Emotion (argumentum ad populum)
Debbie Boone famously sang a song called, "You Light Up My Life." One of the lines says, "It can't be wrong, 'cause it feels so right." Whatever merit this thought might have in other contexts, it has no merit at all in logic. Whether or not something is true or not logically has nothing to do with feelings or emotions.
Closely related to this is the fallacy of subjectivism.<2--in> Something is not true or false logically because of what I want to be true or false. For example, the question, "Does God exist objectively, apart from human thinking?" has nothing to do with whether I like the idea of God or whether it works for me. It is not a matter of my motivation to believe or disbelieve.
The question of whether God exists objectively depends on, well, whether or not God exists objectively. To be sure, you can find conceptions of God out there that do both believe God exists and that this belief is a matter of human subjectivity. But this is not the kind of existence we were asking about--whether a Being exists apart from human thinking and the actions to which that thinking leads. If this sort of God exists, then God exists regardless of my feelings or desires.
Appeal to the Majority
If the fallacy of subjectivism is the idea that something is not logically true or false because of your individual desires, then it is similarly true that something is not logically true or false simply because a majority of individuals want it to be true or false. In general, truth or falsity in logic is not a matter of vote. Whether or not an idea is true or false is a matter of, well, whether it is true or false.<3>
Is it raining right now outside in the normal sense of what it means to rain? The answer to this question is not a matter of a vote. Either it is literally raining or it is not.<4>
Appeal to Improper Authority
In this and the next fallacy, we shift to slightly different logical ground, namely, when bringing other people into arguments makes sense and when it does not. In some circumstances, it might make sense to put weight on a person's claims because of who they are. Take a victim of a crime who is mentally stable, knew his or her attacker, has no apparent ulterior motives, and observed that person attacking him or her. This person certainly seems a credible authority on who made the attack. This credibility does not prove guilt absolutely, but it may prove beyond reasonable doubt.
In many cases, however, it is clear that we rely on the opinion's of many individuals who are not really an appropriate authority on an issue, not least ourselves. "Everyone's entitled to their opinion." But that does not mean that everyone's opinion is equally valuable or likely to be true.<5> Informed opinion is, at least logically, more valuable than an individual's whims and fancies.
This fallacy becomes a real issue in matters of religion and politics. For example, is a person who can quote Bible verses an authority on what God thinks on a particular issue? Frankly, is knowing a Bible verse even the same as being an authority on what that verse meant when it was written down--as well as what God wants us to think of it today? Does being able to quote Bible verses make one an authority on world events and matters of contemporary science? It seems doubtful.
Argument against the Person (ad hominem)
An often effective technique in debate is to attack the person you are debating rather than the actual issue at hand. Politics is rife with this sort of slight of hand. So and so is in a picture with this other so and so. So and so cusses a lot or had an affair with so and so. So and so is a liberal or a conservative or a communist or a Fascist or unpatriotic.
But logically, you cannot dismiss the truth of an idea by attacking the person who holds the idea. Whether or not an idea is true or false depends on, well, whether or not the idea is true or false. It does not depend on the person who has the idea. In the Bible, Satan knows that Jesus is the Son of God (e.g., Matt. 4:6), and demons themselves believe in the one God (James 2:19).
Two related falacies are the genetic fallacy and the circumstantial fallacy. The genetic fallacy is to say that something must be false because of the reasons they came to the idea. Freud famously suggested that people believe in God because they want a Father figure to take care of them. Marx famously called religion the "opiate of the masses." But even if these things proved to be true in many cases--that people believe in God because they want divine help or to make life bearable--that would not logically disprove the existence of God. Whether or not God exists depends on, well, whether or not God exists.
The circumstantial fallacy argues against a person's position by pointing out the circumstances in which the person is making the claim. "Isn't it true that the District Attorney has cut you a deal if you will testify?" It may be true, but that does not logically necessitate that the witness is lying.
For this reason, circumstantial evidence is of varying value in a trial. From a practical standpoint, it can actually be very compelling. Let's say I find my son with cookie crumbs and chocolate smears around his mouth, a trail of crumbs leading back to a cookie drawer that is opened, with a box of cookies opened and standing upright in the drawer. I did not actually see my son take or eat the cookie. I am not an eyewitness to the "crime." Nevertheless, it is reasonable to infer that he in fact has just eaten a cookie from the drawer.
At the same time, this circumstantial evidence does not logically prove that he did. He could have been framed by one of his clever sisters, without him even realizing it. For that matter, space aliens or a mischievious angel might have set the whole thing up. This scenario gives us a good illustration of the difference between what is logically necessary and what is possible or even probable.
Appeal to Ignorance
Sometimes someone will argue that because you have not or cannot prove one thing to be true, that the opposite must be true. "Prove it. You can't prove I did it." Of course the fact that I cannot prove that you did something has nothing to do with whether you did it or not. Either you did it or you did not, and my ability to tell does not affect anything. Christians of course believe that God knows.
Perhaps one of the instances of this fallacy of greatest interest to Christians is when it is applied to God. You cannot prove that God exists and, therefore, God must not exist. This argument hardly makes any logical sense at all. It is true that an individual may believe they have no reason to believe in God. But this fact does not in any way serve as a proof that God does not exist.
Hasty Generalization
Next to fallacies involving subjectivism, perhaps the most frequently committed logical fallacy is that of "hasty generalization." You draw an inference when you simply do not have enough information to do so. In fact, this fallacy often accompanies the committing of other fallacies, such as the fallacies of composition and division that follows.<6>
Fallacies of Composition and Division
The fallacy of composition is when you assume that something is true of a whole group of things simply because it is true of some of things within it. We see this fallacy at work in what sociologists call in group/out group dynamics. People tend to pick positive individuals or traits from the groups to which they belong and then ascribe these particular characteristics to the whole group. Similarly, we tend to pick negative traits or examples from other groups we do not like and paint the whole group with the same brush.
By contrast, the fallacy of division is when you take something that is true of the whole and then apply it to all of its parts. The fact that a team loses a ball game does not mean that every individual on the team played poorly or worse than those on the other team. The fact that an administration as a whole makes bad decisions does not mean that everyone in that administration agreed with those decisions or thought them the best course of action.
After This, Because of This (post hoc propter hoc)
Another frequent expression of hasty generalization is the assumption that because something happened after something else, the first thing must have caused the second thing. For example, let's say I touch your ear lobe and then you immediately fall over dead. It might be tempting to think that the touch had something to do with you dying, but it is not at all a logical certainty.
We especially have to be careful about this fallacy when we are looking at historical events and trying to ascribe praise or blame for things. A related fallacy is confuse something that correlates with a trend for the cause of that trend (non causa pro causa). Let's say that a large plant closes in a small town and in the next year, both the crime rate rises and a large number of people move out of town. It is of course possible that the rise in crime is causing people to leave town. But it is perhaps even more likely that the rise in crime more correlates with the people leaving town, both primarily because of the factory closing.
Fallacy of Diversion
The fallacy of diversion involves a changing of the real subject at hand. Some of the fallacies we have already mentioned can serve such a diversion, such as attacking the person instead of his or her position. One common form of diversion confuses the consequences of something with the value of that thing. For example, it may very well be that prohibiting certain drugs will result in a sub-culture of illegal drug making and trafficking. This fact does not necessarily mean, however, that we should not prohibit those drugs. The abuse of something does not clearly invalidate that thing.
Another form of diversion is a straw man argument. In this fallacy, you create a portrait of your opponent's position that looks a little like it but is actually not quite the same position. Most of us would have a hard time beating up your average weight lifter or wrestler. But we could probably vanquish quite easily a version of them stuffed with straw. In the same way, it is easy to dismiss someone else's argument when he or she is not in the room... and you are misrepresenting their position.
Fallacy of Equivocation
The fallacy of diversion involves a change of subject. The fallacy of equivocation changes the sense of the words you are using in mid-argument. Take the famous quip, "Can God make a rock so big that He cannot lift it?" The person who poses this question usually wishes to argue that it does not make sense to say that God is all powerful.
But this person has mixed up two distinct concepts associated with the word can. One has to do with power or ability and the other has to do with possibility. Christians do not normally suggest that it is possible for God to do everything, for everything includes things that contradict themselves. Christians believe rather than God has all power.
The answer to the question, "Can God make a rock so big that He cannot lift it?" is thus "no" precisely because God is all powerful. God can (has the power to) lift any rock. He can (it is possible for Him to) lift any rock. He cannot not be able to life any rock. The question is worded in a way that plays into the hands of the fallacy of equivocation.
False Alternative
Another fallacy is to present an either/or option, when in fact other alternatives exist. Either you love me or you hate me. Either you favor the war or you do not. Life is seldom this simple. If you do not believe every word of the Bible is true then you do not believe any of the Bible is true. If you believe in evolution then you do not believe God created the world. We can believe that every word of the Bible is true and not believe in evolution and yet recognize that the last two sentences are examples of the fallacy of false alternative.
For example, there are Christians who believe that God created the world through evolution. They may be wrong, but they represent another possibility for which the either/or sentence above did not allow. And if for some strange reason someone believed that Lot's wife actually turned into mustard rather than salt (Genesis 19:26), that would not imply that they did not believe in the resurrection or that we should love our neighbor.
One notable example of the fallacy of false alternative is a slippery slope argument. A "slippery slope" is the idea that if you start down a certain path, you will not be able to stop. If you let kids go out on dates unsupervised, they will all end up having sex. Now in real life, slippery slopes can actually have some substance to them. Most parents who do not want their teenage children having sex do not leave them alone in their bedrooms with a girlfriend or boyfriend and then leave for the night. But logically, it is not an absolute certainty that one thing will lead to another. Other alternatives exist.
Begging the Question (Circular Reasoning)
A final fallacy we might mention is begging the question, which is when you assume your conclusion in your argument. We can believe the Bible is inspired and recognize that we cannot 2 Timothy 3:16 to prove it: "all Scripture is God-breathed. You are assuming the Bible is inspired in your attempt to prove that the Bible is inspired. This would be like saying "Ken never lies because he told me he never lies." What if I turn out to be a flagrant liar?
A related fallacy is the complex question, such as in some cases when a lawyer leads a witness. "When did your anger issues stop?" You are assuming that the person had anger issues. The question thus asks a follow up question when you haven't yet established the answer to the first one, namely, "Did you have an anger problem?"
Appeal to Force (argumentum ad baculum)
It should be obvious that forcing someone to hold a certain position does not make that position true. The law usually will reject a confession from a suspect that has been coerced out of them. Force is the stuff of power and politics, but it is not the stuff of logic. You cannot change what is logically true by torture or pressure.
Appeal to Emotion (argumentum ad populum)
Debbie Boone famously sang a song called, "You Light Up My Life." One of the lines says, "It can't be wrong, 'cause it feels so right." Whatever merit this thought might have in other contexts, it has no merit at all in logic. Whether or not something is true or not logically has nothing to do with feelings or emotions.
Closely related to this is the fallacy of subjectivism.<2--in> Something is not true or false logically because of what I want to be true or false. For example, the question, "Does God exist objectively, apart from human thinking?" has nothing to do with whether I like the idea of God or whether it works for me. It is not a matter of my motivation to believe or disbelieve.
The question of whether God exists objectively depends on, well, whether or not God exists objectively. To be sure, you can find conceptions of God out there that do both believe God exists and that this belief is a matter of human subjectivity. But this is not the kind of existence we were asking about--whether a Being exists apart from human thinking and the actions to which that thinking leads. If this sort of God exists, then God exists regardless of my feelings or desires.
Appeal to the Majority
If the fallacy of subjectivism is the idea that something is not logically true or false because of your individual desires, then it is similarly true that something is not logically true or false simply because a majority of individuals want it to be true or false. In general, truth or falsity in logic is not a matter of vote. Whether or not an idea is true or false is a matter of, well, whether it is true or false.<3>
Is it raining right now outside in the normal sense of what it means to rain? The answer to this question is not a matter of a vote. Either it is literally raining or it is not.<4>
Appeal to Improper Authority
In this and the next fallacy, we shift to slightly different logical ground, namely, when bringing other people into arguments makes sense and when it does not. In some circumstances, it might make sense to put weight on a person's claims because of who they are. Take a victim of a crime who is mentally stable, knew his or her attacker, has no apparent ulterior motives, and observed that person attacking him or her. This person certainly seems a credible authority on who made the attack. This credibility does not prove guilt absolutely, but it may prove beyond reasonable doubt.
In many cases, however, it is clear that we rely on the opinion's of many individuals who are not really an appropriate authority on an issue, not least ourselves. "Everyone's entitled to their opinion." But that does not mean that everyone's opinion is equally valuable or likely to be true.<5> Informed opinion is, at least logically, more valuable than an individual's whims and fancies.
This fallacy becomes a real issue in matters of religion and politics. For example, is a person who can quote Bible verses an authority on what God thinks on a particular issue? Frankly, is knowing a Bible verse even the same as being an authority on what that verse meant when it was written down--as well as what God wants us to think of it today? Does being able to quote Bible verses make one an authority on world events and matters of contemporary science? It seems doubtful.
Argument against the Person (ad hominem)
An often effective technique in debate is to attack the person you are debating rather than the actual issue at hand. Politics is rife with this sort of slight of hand. So and so is in a picture with this other so and so. So and so cusses a lot or had an affair with so and so. So and so is a liberal or a conservative or a communist or a Fascist or unpatriotic.
But logically, you cannot dismiss the truth of an idea by attacking the person who holds the idea. Whether or not an idea is true or false depends on, well, whether or not the idea is true or false. It does not depend on the person who has the idea. In the Bible, Satan knows that Jesus is the Son of God (e.g., Matt. 4:6), and demons themselves believe in the one God (James 2:19).
Two related falacies are the genetic fallacy and the circumstantial fallacy. The genetic fallacy is to say that something must be false because of the reasons they came to the idea. Freud famously suggested that people believe in God because they want a Father figure to take care of them. Marx famously called religion the "opiate of the masses." But even if these things proved to be true in many cases--that people believe in God because they want divine help or to make life bearable--that would not logically disprove the existence of God. Whether or not God exists depends on, well, whether or not God exists.
The circumstantial fallacy argues against a person's position by pointing out the circumstances in which the person is making the claim. "Isn't it true that the District Attorney has cut you a deal if you will testify?" It may be true, but that does not logically necessitate that the witness is lying.
For this reason, circumstantial evidence is of varying value in a trial. From a practical standpoint, it can actually be very compelling. Let's say I find my son with cookie crumbs and chocolate smears around his mouth, a trail of crumbs leading back to a cookie drawer that is opened, with a box of cookies opened and standing upright in the drawer. I did not actually see my son take or eat the cookie. I am not an eyewitness to the "crime." Nevertheless, it is reasonable to infer that he in fact has just eaten a cookie from the drawer.
At the same time, this circumstantial evidence does not logically prove that he did. He could have been framed by one of his clever sisters, without him even realizing it. For that matter, space aliens or a mischievious angel might have set the whole thing up. This scenario gives us a good illustration of the difference between what is logically necessary and what is possible or even probable.
Appeal to Ignorance
Sometimes someone will argue that because you have not or cannot prove one thing to be true, that the opposite must be true. "Prove it. You can't prove I did it." Of course the fact that I cannot prove that you did something has nothing to do with whether you did it or not. Either you did it or you did not, and my ability to tell does not affect anything. Christians of course believe that God knows.
Perhaps one of the instances of this fallacy of greatest interest to Christians is when it is applied to God. You cannot prove that God exists and, therefore, God must not exist. This argument hardly makes any logical sense at all. It is true that an individual may believe they have no reason to believe in God. But this fact does not in any way serve as a proof that God does not exist.
Hasty Generalization
Next to fallacies involving subjectivism, perhaps the most frequently committed logical fallacy is that of "hasty generalization." You draw an inference when you simply do not have enough information to do so. In fact, this fallacy often accompanies the committing of other fallacies, such as the fallacies of composition and division that follows.<6>
Fallacies of Composition and Division
The fallacy of composition is when you assume that something is true of a whole group of things simply because it is true of some of things within it. We see this fallacy at work in what sociologists call in group/out group dynamics. People tend to pick positive individuals or traits from the groups to which they belong and then ascribe these particular characteristics to the whole group. Similarly, we tend to pick negative traits or examples from other groups we do not like and paint the whole group with the same brush.
By contrast, the fallacy of division is when you take something that is true of the whole and then apply it to all of its parts. The fact that a team loses a ball game does not mean that every individual on the team played poorly or worse than those on the other team. The fact that an administration as a whole makes bad decisions does not mean that everyone in that administration agreed with those decisions or thought them the best course of action.
After This, Because of This (post hoc propter hoc)
Another frequent expression of hasty generalization is the assumption that because something happened after something else, the first thing must have caused the second thing. For example, let's say I touch your ear lobe and then you immediately fall over dead. It might be tempting to think that the touch had something to do with you dying, but it is not at all a logical certainty.
We especially have to be careful about this fallacy when we are looking at historical events and trying to ascribe praise or blame for things. A related fallacy is confuse something that correlates with a trend for the cause of that trend (non causa pro causa). Let's say that a large plant closes in a small town and in the next year, both the crime rate rises and a large number of people move out of town. It is of course possible that the rise in crime is causing people to leave town. But it is perhaps even more likely that the rise in crime more correlates with the people leaving town, both primarily because of the factory closing.
Fallacy of Diversion
The fallacy of diversion involves a changing of the real subject at hand. Some of the fallacies we have already mentioned can serve such a diversion, such as attacking the person instead of his or her position. One common form of diversion confuses the consequences of something with the value of that thing. For example, it may very well be that prohibiting certain drugs will result in a sub-culture of illegal drug making and trafficking. This fact does not necessarily mean, however, that we should not prohibit those drugs. The abuse of something does not clearly invalidate that thing.
Another form of diversion is a straw man argument. In this fallacy, you create a portrait of your opponent's position that looks a little like it but is actually not quite the same position. Most of us would have a hard time beating up your average weight lifter or wrestler. But we could probably vanquish quite easily a version of them stuffed with straw. In the same way, it is easy to dismiss someone else's argument when he or she is not in the room... and you are misrepresenting their position.
Fallacy of Equivocation
The fallacy of diversion involves a change of subject. The fallacy of equivocation changes the sense of the words you are using in mid-argument. Take the famous quip, "Can God make a rock so big that He cannot lift it?" The person who poses this question usually wishes to argue that it does not make sense to say that God is all powerful.
But this person has mixed up two distinct concepts associated with the word can. One has to do with power or ability and the other has to do with possibility. Christians do not normally suggest that it is possible for God to do everything, for everything includes things that contradict themselves. Christians believe rather than God has all power.
The answer to the question, "Can God make a rock so big that He cannot lift it?" is thus "no" precisely because God is all powerful. God can (has the power to) lift any rock. He can (it is possible for Him to) lift any rock. He cannot not be able to life any rock. The question is worded in a way that plays into the hands of the fallacy of equivocation.
False Alternative
Another fallacy is to present an either/or option, when in fact other alternatives exist. Either you love me or you hate me. Either you favor the war or you do not. Life is seldom this simple. If you do not believe every word of the Bible is true then you do not believe any of the Bible is true. If you believe in evolution then you do not believe God created the world. We can believe that every word of the Bible is true and not believe in evolution and yet recognize that the last two sentences are examples of the fallacy of false alternative.
For example, there are Christians who believe that God created the world through evolution. They may be wrong, but they represent another possibility for which the either/or sentence above did not allow. And if for some strange reason someone believed that Lot's wife actually turned into mustard rather than salt (Genesis 19:26), that would not imply that they did not believe in the resurrection or that we should love our neighbor.
One notable example of the fallacy of false alternative is a slippery slope argument. A "slippery slope" is the idea that if you start down a certain path, you will not be able to stop. If you let kids go out on dates unsupervised, they will all end up having sex. Now in real life, slippery slopes can actually have some substance to them. Most parents who do not want their teenage children having sex do not leave them alone in their bedrooms with a girlfriend or boyfriend and then leave for the night. But logically, it is not an absolute certainty that one thing will lead to another. Other alternatives exist.
Begging the Question (Circular Reasoning)
A final fallacy we might mention is begging the question, which is when you assume your conclusion in your argument. We can believe the Bible is inspired and recognize that we cannot 2 Timothy 3:16 to prove it: "all Scripture is God-breathed. You are assuming the Bible is inspired in your attempt to prove that the Bible is inspired. This would be like saying "Ken never lies because he told me he never lies." What if I turn out to be a flagrant liar?
A related fallacy is the complex question, such as in some cases when a lawyer leads a witness. "When did your anger issues stop?" You are assuming that the person had anger issues. The question thus asks a follow up question when you haven't yet established the answer to the first one, namely, "Did you have an anger problem?"
Metaphors We Live By 3
Probably two or three posts today... so many goals, so little time.
Today's chapter is a delicious 4 pages and deals with the fact that metaphorical conceptual systems highlight certain things and at the same time hide others. [This is a great Foucaultian recognition].
The example of this chapter is the metaphorical system of how we talk about language, namely, that language is a container, that ideas are objects, and that communication is sending an object through this container to someone else. Michael Reddy calls this the "conduit metaphor" of language. [and it is intrinsic to structuralism]
Examples: "I gave you that idea," "His words carry little meaning," "It's hard to get that idea across."
But this is a metaphor and following it through too closely leads to conclusions that do not hold true. For example, words and sentences do not have meanings in themselves independent of a context or speaker. [as Wittgenstein so aptly has shown. What is the meaning of the word "fire" independent of any context--getting fired, shooting someone, a command to run out of a building for your life, telling a child the name of the orangish-red thing in front of them?]
L and J use the celebrated example, "Please sit in the apple-juice seat." What does this mean by itself?
Another situation is where the same words might mean different things to different people: "We need to explore alternative sources of energy." Is it the President of Mobile Oil talking or the president of Friends of Earth?
The conduit metaphor does not work very well in instances such as these.
Metaphorical structuring is thus partial, not total. [This is the fatal flaw in Aristotle's simplistic definition of a metaphor] At least part of a metaphorical concept will not fit with the other. Accordingly, those parts that fit can be extended even further in a figurative direction, while other parts can't. [Derrida of course spent all his time focusing on the parts that couldn't]
Today's chapter is a delicious 4 pages and deals with the fact that metaphorical conceptual systems highlight certain things and at the same time hide others. [This is a great Foucaultian recognition].
The example of this chapter is the metaphorical system of how we talk about language, namely, that language is a container, that ideas are objects, and that communication is sending an object through this container to someone else. Michael Reddy calls this the "conduit metaphor" of language. [and it is intrinsic to structuralism]
Examples: "I gave you that idea," "His words carry little meaning," "It's hard to get that idea across."
But this is a metaphor and following it through too closely leads to conclusions that do not hold true. For example, words and sentences do not have meanings in themselves independent of a context or speaker. [as Wittgenstein so aptly has shown. What is the meaning of the word "fire" independent of any context--getting fired, shooting someone, a command to run out of a building for your life, telling a child the name of the orangish-red thing in front of them?]
L and J use the celebrated example, "Please sit in the apple-juice seat." What does this mean by itself?
Another situation is where the same words might mean different things to different people: "We need to explore alternative sources of energy." Is it the President of Mobile Oil talking or the president of Friends of Earth?
The conduit metaphor does not work very well in instances such as these.
Metaphorical structuring is thus partial, not total. [This is the fatal flaw in Aristotle's simplistic definition of a metaphor] At least part of a metaphorical concept will not fit with the other. Accordingly, those parts that fit can be extended even further in a figurative direction, while other parts can't. [Derrida of course spent all his time focusing on the parts that couldn't]
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Metaphors We Live By 2
Today's "philosophical devotional" was a delectable 3 pages long. This chapter suggests that metaphorical concepts often have a "systematicity" to them.
The metaphorical concept of this chapter was "Time is money." Some examples include "You're wasting my time," "How do you spend your days?," "You need to budget your time," and "He's living on borrowed time," among others.
Lakoff and Johnson argue that these linguistic metaphors are not only conceptual but that there is a system to them, namely, that time is money in our culture because for us time is not only a commodity, it is a valuable one. This is a cultural matter, for time is not conceptualized in this way in other cultures.
This network of concepts thus has a certain "systematicity" to it.
The metaphorical concept of this chapter was "Time is money." Some examples include "You're wasting my time," "How do you spend your days?," "You need to budget your time," and "He's living on borrowed time," among others.
Lakoff and Johnson argue that these linguistic metaphors are not only conceptual but that there is a system to them, namely, that time is money in our culture because for us time is not only a commodity, it is a valuable one. This is a cultural matter, for time is not conceptualized in this way in other cultures.
This network of concepts thus has a certain "systematicity" to it.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Metaphors We Live By 1
Torrey Seland's book referenced another book I've had on my shelf for a while: Metaphors We Live By, by George Lakoff and Mark Johnson. Another close friend of mine had recommended it long ago--Bill Patrick who teaches at the Asbury Florida campus. If I ever get filthy rich I hope to set up Bill on a stipend to write whatever he wants... as long as he actually writes something :-) He's brilliant... and wasted teaching Greek :-).
I finally opened it and discovered that it is my kind of book! There are 29 chapters, but they're like three pages each! It's like a philosophy devotional :-)
So the basic point of the first chapter is that most of the way we conceive of the world is metaphorical--not just in our language, but in our concepts themselves. Meanwhile, "the essence of a metaphor is understanding and experiencing one kind of thing in terms of another" (5).
The example they give is argument. Our conception of argument, they argue, is patterned after the metaphor of war. We defend our claims, some of which are indefensible. We win or lose arguments. Criticisms can be right on target and we attack others' positions, etc.
This, they argue, is the normal way of conceptualizing arguments and, thus, arguments are fundamentally metaphorical on a conceptual and not "merely" linguistic level.
I finally opened it and discovered that it is my kind of book! There are 29 chapters, but they're like three pages each! It's like a philosophy devotional :-)
So the basic point of the first chapter is that most of the way we conceive of the world is metaphorical--not just in our language, but in our concepts themselves. Meanwhile, "the essence of a metaphor is understanding and experiencing one kind of thing in terms of another" (5).
The example they give is argument. Our conception of argument, they argue, is patterned after the metaphor of war. We defend our claims, some of which are indefensible. We win or lose arguments. Criticisms can be right on target and we attack others' positions, etc.
This, they argue, is the normal way of conceptualizing arguments and, thus, arguments are fundamentally metaphorical on a conceptual and not "merely" linguistic level.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Final Seland Review #5
And now, the final installment of my review of Torrey Seland's book, Strangers in the Light.
Chapter 4: The Moderate Life of the Christian Paroikoi: A Philonic Reading of 1 Pet. 2:11
Torrey delivered a version of this chapter first as a paper at a "The New Testament and Philo" conference in Eisenach in 2003. In this chapter Seland's ideal Philonic reader returns, this time to focus on the verse in 1 Peter of greatest interest to Torrey, namely, 1 Peter 2:11. How would a Philonic reader understand this verse?
Part 1
Seland thus embarks in the first part of the chapter on a journey to hone in on Philo's use of terms like παροικος and παρεπιδημος, as well as Philo's understanding of the soul. Eduard Schweizer referred to 1 Peter 2:11 as "the most strongly Hellenised ψυχη passage in the NT" (117). The reason is that the soul is here put into direct opposition to "fleshly desires" in a way characteristic of Platonic rather than OT thought.
Unsurprisingly, Philo's main sense of sojourning, of being a παροικος, has to do with the wise person being a sojourner in a physical body (e.g., Her. 267-68). Similarly, the person on a path to wisdom sojourns in the "basic studies" of a Greek education before moving on to the Law of Moses (e.g., Cong. 22).
Seland summarizes Philo's sense of the wise man as a resident alien with three basic connotations: 1) with respect to God, for the world is his, 2) with respect to the elementary studies in contrast to the Law of Moses, and 3) life of the soul in a body.
With regard to the soul, ψυχη, Seland presents a quick overview of Philo's understanding. The human soul has both a rational and irrational part. The soul's soul is the spirit (e.g. Her. 55) or the mind (Leg. 1.39). Philo can also look at the soul from a different perspective in which it consists of the mind, the spirited part, and the passions, each assigned a part of the anatomy (head, chest, abdomen).
Seland concludes by pointing out the well known difference between the anthropology of the Hebrew Bible and that of the Greek/Hellenistic philosophers. "In the Hebrew Bible, a human being does not have a soul; s/he is a soul" (127). Most NT texts maintain this sense of "soul" in the Jewish Scriptures as a reference to an entire living being.
Part 2
Torrey now runs through various words and phrases in 1 Peter 2:11 asking how a Philonic reader would likely understand them.
"aliens and exiles"
A Philonic reader would likely understand sojourning here in the third Philonic sense we mentioned above. We are strangers in this world in contrast to our true home in the heavenly world.
"to abstain from fleshly desires that war against the soul"
Eduard Schweizer has pointed out that this verse is the only place in the NT where the soul stands in antithesis to "flesh" (137). Seland briefly summarizes Philo's sense of embodiment (138-139). First, Philo sees both body and soul as created by God (I think Seland may slightly overvaluates the body in Philo here a little). Second, the body is at best a necessary evil (e.g., Leg. 3.72-73; more accurate). Third, Philo has a mostly negative view of flesh in his writings.
"desires"
Here Seland turns to Philo's explanations of the tenth commandment, where he finds desire to be the most troublesome of all the passions, which belong to the irrational part of the soul. On the one hand, Philo recognizes the inevitability of the passions. He is thus more akin to Aristotle than to the Stoics on this score. The passions must be controlled by reason (141).
Seland concludes that a Philonic reader would have no problem seeing similar issues being addressed in 1 Peter 2:11. Seland hints that he does not see this verse as a reference to our brief sojourn in the body before our souls return to heaven (145). But a Philonic reader likely would read it in this way.
Here endeth the reading. Thanks to Torrey Seland for a stimulating book. I have gained much from reading it.
Chapter 4: The Moderate Life of the Christian Paroikoi: A Philonic Reading of 1 Pet. 2:11
Torrey delivered a version of this chapter first as a paper at a "The New Testament and Philo" conference in Eisenach in 2003. In this chapter Seland's ideal Philonic reader returns, this time to focus on the verse in 1 Peter of greatest interest to Torrey, namely, 1 Peter 2:11. How would a Philonic reader understand this verse?
Part 1
Seland thus embarks in the first part of the chapter on a journey to hone in on Philo's use of terms like παροικος and παρεπιδημος, as well as Philo's understanding of the soul. Eduard Schweizer referred to 1 Peter 2:11 as "the most strongly Hellenised ψυχη passage in the NT" (117). The reason is that the soul is here put into direct opposition to "fleshly desires" in a way characteristic of Platonic rather than OT thought.
Unsurprisingly, Philo's main sense of sojourning, of being a παροικος, has to do with the wise person being a sojourner in a physical body (e.g., Her. 267-68). Similarly, the person on a path to wisdom sojourns in the "basic studies" of a Greek education before moving on to the Law of Moses (e.g., Cong. 22).
Seland summarizes Philo's sense of the wise man as a resident alien with three basic connotations: 1) with respect to God, for the world is his, 2) with respect to the elementary studies in contrast to the Law of Moses, and 3) life of the soul in a body.
With regard to the soul, ψυχη, Seland presents a quick overview of Philo's understanding. The human soul has both a rational and irrational part. The soul's soul is the spirit (e.g. Her. 55) or the mind (Leg. 1.39). Philo can also look at the soul from a different perspective in which it consists of the mind, the spirited part, and the passions, each assigned a part of the anatomy (head, chest, abdomen).
Seland concludes by pointing out the well known difference between the anthropology of the Hebrew Bible and that of the Greek/Hellenistic philosophers. "In the Hebrew Bible, a human being does not have a soul; s/he is a soul" (127). Most NT texts maintain this sense of "soul" in the Jewish Scriptures as a reference to an entire living being.
Part 2
Torrey now runs through various words and phrases in 1 Peter 2:11 asking how a Philonic reader would likely understand them.
"aliens and exiles"
A Philonic reader would likely understand sojourning here in the third Philonic sense we mentioned above. We are strangers in this world in contrast to our true home in the heavenly world.
"to abstain from fleshly desires that war against the soul"
Eduard Schweizer has pointed out that this verse is the only place in the NT where the soul stands in antithesis to "flesh" (137). Seland briefly summarizes Philo's sense of embodiment (138-139). First, Philo sees both body and soul as created by God (I think Seland may slightly overvaluates the body in Philo here a little). Second, the body is at best a necessary evil (e.g., Leg. 3.72-73; more accurate). Third, Philo has a mostly negative view of flesh in his writings.
"desires"
Here Seland turns to Philo's explanations of the tenth commandment, where he finds desire to be the most troublesome of all the passions, which belong to the irrational part of the soul. On the one hand, Philo recognizes the inevitability of the passions. He is thus more akin to Aristotle than to the Stoics on this score. The passions must be controlled by reason (141).
Seland concludes that a Philonic reader would have no problem seeing similar issues being addressed in 1 Peter 2:11. Seland hints that he does not see this verse as a reference to our brief sojourn in the body before our souls return to heaven (145). But a Philonic reader likely would read it in this way.
Here endeth the reading. Thanks to Torrey Seland for a stimulating book. I have gained much from reading it.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Seland Review, #4
Fourth installment.
Chapter 2: παροικος και παρεπιδημος: Proselyte Characterizations in 1 Peter?
This chapter appeared in 2001 in the Bulletin for Biblical Research. Seland gives the basic thesis of the chapter as follows: "In some Diaspora Jewish works, the terms παροικος and παρεπιδημος belong to the semantic field 'proselyte/proselytism'" (40). He does not hereby mean that the audience had literally been proselytes to Judaism prior to becoming Christians (van Unnik's position). Rather, drawing on Lakoff and Johnson, the social world of proselytes provides the "source domain" of the terms, which are then applied in the "target domain" of Petrine Christians. I believe Seland considers this line of thought to be the signature contribution to scholarship of the book as a whole.
Part 1
In good fashion, the first part of the chapter runs through the primary suggestions in play about the social location of the audience. van Unnik believed the audience had literally been proselytes to Judaism before becoming Christians (42-44). Klaus Berger does not believe they were literally proselytes, but sees their situation as similar to that of Jewish proselytes (44).
Of course the best known social theory in relation to 1 Peter is that of John Elliott, who has argued that the audience had literally been resident aliens in the regions of the letter before they had become Christians (44-46). Frankly, this thesis and its impact boggle my mind. Are we really to suppose that there was such a well defined group of Christian visitors or literal exiles in this entire region for an author to single out the group in a letter of this proportion?
Seland points to several features that militate against Elliott's hypothesis (62). For example, 1:17 suggests that their time of exile coincides with their time of waiting for salvation. 4:3 similarly hints that they were not in the same situation prior to becoming Christians. Finally, the use of ως in 2:11 points to a more metaphorical sense to the terms "aliens" and "exiles."
Seland clearly favors a more metaphorical understanding, although not the traditional metaphor of Christians as pilgrims on earth awaiting a home in heaven. Others who have taken a more nuanced metaphorical understanding include Troy Martin, who sees the Diaspora as the controlling metaphor, and Reinhard Feldmeier, who sees the people of Israel as the dominant one.
To move forward, Seland then takes a moment to present Lakoff and Johnson's basic categorization of metaphors (50-51), concluding that language of the audience as "aliens" and "strangers" constitute a "structural metaphor." The social situation of the audience is metaphorically "structured" like the social situation of proselytes to Judaism.
Part 2
In the second part of the essay, Torrey explores background literature in the Hebrew Bible, LXX, and Philo. In the Hebrew Bible, he is interested in the expression גר ותושב, of which παροικος is the usual translation (52-56). Indeed, on 10 occasions the Hebrew phrase is translated as παροικος και παρεπιδημος. Citing a number of places where these terms seem interchangeable with the term προσηλυτος, his basic conclusion is that "παροικος and παρεπιδημος are proselyte-related terms" (56).
In Philo, Seland finds a "conceptual closeness of strangers and proselytes" (59). The Hebrew Bible describes Abraham as a גר ותושב, which the LXX renders παροικος και παρεπιδημος, as in 1 Peter 2:11. Yet Philo considers Abraham the model of a proselyte to the true God, who departs from the idols of Chaldea for the one God (e.g., Virt. 219).
I will confess already that I do not find this evidence compelling toward the interpretation of 1 Peter at this point. Seland has only demonstrated that there is a conceptual overlap between the three terms παροικος, παρεπιδημος, and προσηλυτος. The Hebrew is irrelevant to the interpretation of 1 Peter except insofar as it might illuminate the way the author of 1 Peter is likely to have understood these terms.
But all this shows is that these terms could be used in relation to proselytes. Seland has not even claimed that such was the primary connotation of the terms. Even in Philo, we must distinguish between Abraham as a type of the proselyte and Abraham as a stranger in the land. These are two distinct conceptualizations of Abraham, even if they are analogous.
Part 3
In the final part of the chapter, Seland suggests that several passages in 1 Peter "should be read against the background of Diaspora-Jewish descriptions of proselytes" (61). In itself, this thesis is fair enough. For example, the audience has been "called out of darkness into astonishing light" (2:9). Certainly this is proselyte language. Indeed, it seems likely enough that the audience should be seen as "converts" as "proselytes" to Christian Judaism (e.g., 4:3).
However, Seland is never able to connect the dots between this general truth and the author's use of the terms παροικος and παρεπιδημος in 2:11. The remainder of the chapter plausibly confirms that the audience have converted, that they are ostracized from their former kinsmen in the way proselytes are (71). Their new identity involves a new, fictive kinship with an emphasis on brotherly love (74-77).
But he never closes the deal on the connection between this broader sense of the audience as converts to Christian Judaism and the specific meaning of 2:11. The most likely background of the expression παροικος και παρεπιδημος is Psalm 39:12 (LXX 38:12). The Septuagintal context gives us no reason to connect this comment to proselytism, and even Seland's Philonic reader would likely have allegorized the verse in relation to our soul's sojourn in the body.
One more entry...
Chapter 2: παροικος και παρεπιδημος: Proselyte Characterizations in 1 Peter?
This chapter appeared in 2001 in the Bulletin for Biblical Research. Seland gives the basic thesis of the chapter as follows: "In some Diaspora Jewish works, the terms παροικος and παρεπιδημος belong to the semantic field 'proselyte/proselytism'" (40). He does not hereby mean that the audience had literally been proselytes to Judaism prior to becoming Christians (van Unnik's position). Rather, drawing on Lakoff and Johnson, the social world of proselytes provides the "source domain" of the terms, which are then applied in the "target domain" of Petrine Christians. I believe Seland considers this line of thought to be the signature contribution to scholarship of the book as a whole.
Part 1
In good fashion, the first part of the chapter runs through the primary suggestions in play about the social location of the audience. van Unnik believed the audience had literally been proselytes to Judaism before becoming Christians (42-44). Klaus Berger does not believe they were literally proselytes, but sees their situation as similar to that of Jewish proselytes (44).
Of course the best known social theory in relation to 1 Peter is that of John Elliott, who has argued that the audience had literally been resident aliens in the regions of the letter before they had become Christians (44-46). Frankly, this thesis and its impact boggle my mind. Are we really to suppose that there was such a well defined group of Christian visitors or literal exiles in this entire region for an author to single out the group in a letter of this proportion?
Seland points to several features that militate against Elliott's hypothesis (62). For example, 1:17 suggests that their time of exile coincides with their time of waiting for salvation. 4:3 similarly hints that they were not in the same situation prior to becoming Christians. Finally, the use of ως in 2:11 points to a more metaphorical sense to the terms "aliens" and "exiles."
Seland clearly favors a more metaphorical understanding, although not the traditional metaphor of Christians as pilgrims on earth awaiting a home in heaven. Others who have taken a more nuanced metaphorical understanding include Troy Martin, who sees the Diaspora as the controlling metaphor, and Reinhard Feldmeier, who sees the people of Israel as the dominant one.
To move forward, Seland then takes a moment to present Lakoff and Johnson's basic categorization of metaphors (50-51), concluding that language of the audience as "aliens" and "strangers" constitute a "structural metaphor." The social situation of the audience is metaphorically "structured" like the social situation of proselytes to Judaism.
Part 2
In the second part of the essay, Torrey explores background literature in the Hebrew Bible, LXX, and Philo. In the Hebrew Bible, he is interested in the expression גר ותושב, of which παροικος is the usual translation (52-56). Indeed, on 10 occasions the Hebrew phrase is translated as παροικος και παρεπιδημος. Citing a number of places where these terms seem interchangeable with the term προσηλυτος, his basic conclusion is that "παροικος and παρεπιδημος are proselyte-related terms" (56).
In Philo, Seland finds a "conceptual closeness of strangers and proselytes" (59). The Hebrew Bible describes Abraham as a גר ותושב, which the LXX renders παροικος και παρεπιδημος, as in 1 Peter 2:11. Yet Philo considers Abraham the model of a proselyte to the true God, who departs from the idols of Chaldea for the one God (e.g., Virt. 219).
I will confess already that I do not find this evidence compelling toward the interpretation of 1 Peter at this point. Seland has only demonstrated that there is a conceptual overlap between the three terms παροικος, παρεπιδημος, and προσηλυτος. The Hebrew is irrelevant to the interpretation of 1 Peter except insofar as it might illuminate the way the author of 1 Peter is likely to have understood these terms.
But all this shows is that these terms could be used in relation to proselytes. Seland has not even claimed that such was the primary connotation of the terms. Even in Philo, we must distinguish between Abraham as a type of the proselyte and Abraham as a stranger in the land. These are two distinct conceptualizations of Abraham, even if they are analogous.
Part 3
In the final part of the chapter, Seland suggests that several passages in 1 Peter "should be read against the background of Diaspora-Jewish descriptions of proselytes" (61). In itself, this thesis is fair enough. For example, the audience has been "called out of darkness into astonishing light" (2:9). Certainly this is proselyte language. Indeed, it seems likely enough that the audience should be seen as "converts" as "proselytes" to Christian Judaism (e.g., 4:3).
However, Seland is never able to connect the dots between this general truth and the author's use of the terms παροικος and παρεπιδημος in 2:11. The remainder of the chapter plausibly confirms that the audience have converted, that they are ostracized from their former kinsmen in the way proselytes are (71). Their new identity involves a new, fictive kinship with an emphasis on brotherly love (74-77).
But he never closes the deal on the connection between this broader sense of the audience as converts to Christian Judaism and the specific meaning of 2:11. The most likely background of the expression παροικος και παρεπιδημος is Psalm 39:12 (LXX 38:12). The Septuagintal context gives us no reason to connect this comment to proselytism, and even Seland's Philonic reader would likely have allegorized the verse in relation to our soul's sojourn in the body.
One more entry...
Seland Review #3
Third installment.
Chapter 5: "Conduct Yourselves Honorably Among the Gentiles" (1 Peter 2:12), Acculturation and Assimilation in 1 Peter
Seland read this paper in Edinburgh in 1998, and so it is the second essay of the book taken in chronological order. I personally found this chapter the most interesting and helpful of all.
In this chapter, Torrey addresses the question of the degree to which the author of 1 Peter intends for the audience to be assimilated to its non-Christian environment. His thesis is three fold (148). First, he does not believe the terms acculturation and assimilation have been used thus far to great advantage in analyzing the social strategies of 1 Peter. Secondly, those studies that have used these terms in relation to 1 Peter have not tapped into the extensive use of them in the social sciences.
Finally, he argues that they apply to the Christians of 1 Peter as "first generation Christians ... still in a process of being socialized into the Christian world view." Torrey suggests they are in somewhat of a "liminal" situation as newly converted Christians. As such, he sets out to review key literature on 1 Peter in relation to its social situation, to dip into relevant social scientific research on acculturation and assimilation, and then apply these findings to 1 Peter.
Part 1
Seland's review of relevant New Testament research leads him to three key players, namely, David Balch, John Elliott, and John Barclay. Balch's work focused primarily on the household codes of 1 Peter, and his basic thesis is that "such codes were used in a apologetic and legitimating way in Graeco-Roman sources" (150). Balch--at least in his earlier work--characterizes such a purpose as assimilation. The audience of 1 Peter is being told to integrate themselves into society.
Elliott disagrees. The fact that the letter calls for Christians to separate from the world, as well as its missionary emphases, indicate for him that the Petrine house codes are discouraging assimilation for the purpose of avoiding suffering. Seland's critique of both is that neither use the terms assimilation and accommodation with the precision of the social sciences.
Barclay, on the other hand, is more precise in his terms, although his well known work, Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora does not address 1 Peter. Barclay distinguishes three terms. First, Barclay uses the word assimilation in reference to the category of social interaction and the adoption of social practices from one's environment. Acculturation then is used in relation to broader cultural features like the use of the same language. Finally, accommodation has to do with the degree to which acculturation takes place, the level of separateness that either is or is not maintained.
In the end, Seland does not find this typology very helpful. He does not find Barclay's distinction between assimilation and acculturation very clear. Further, Barclay's nomenclature does not mesh well with the social scientific use of these terms.
Part 2
And so Seland embarks next on an exploration of recent research in the social sciences on acculturation and assimilation (156-66). His first stop is B. S. Heisler, whose work analyzes the history of research on this topic in three stages. She dubs research up until the late 60's the "classical period." In this period, the process of assimilation was viewed as a one way process ending in complete assimilation.
Heisler dubs the second period the "modern" period, beginning in the seventies. In this period research focused more on conflict, particularly long term conflict, and less on equilibrium. The third period is the "post-modern period," of recent origin (which given the date of this article would be the 1990's). Here we find the expectation of multicultural societies and ethnic pluralisms (158).
Seland mentions several other sources from which one might construct a model of acculturation/assimilation appropriate for 1 Peter. These include the fields of social psychology and communication research. Finally, he draws definitions of acculturation and assimilation from the International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences (160).
acculturation: "those changes set in motion by the coming together of societies with different cultural traditions."
Seland finds this statement in the article even more helpful: "Acculturation comprehends those phenomena which results [sic] when groups of individuals having different cultures come into continuous first-hand contact, with subsequent changes in the original cultural patterns of either or both groups."
assimilation: "a process in which persons of diverse ethnic and racial backgrounds come to interact, free of these constraints, in the life of the larger society."
After all this background, Seland ultimately turns to Milton Gordon's 1964 model (from the so called classical period of such research) with a few caveats. The main caveat is a warning that Gordon was wrongly "deterministic" in his sense of inevitability to the process of assimilation. Adjustment of two groups to each other is not the only option.
Gordon's model breaks down several different categories of assimilation:
1. cultural or behavioral assimilation (=acculturation)--fitting in with the host culture in a most basic way (presumably things like learning the language, getting the appropriate documents, etc...)
2. structural assimilation--participating in the clubs, institutions, etc. in large numbers. Gordon believed that once structural assimilation had taken place, all the forms of assimilation below would inevitably follow.
3. marital assimilation (intermarriage)
4. identificational assimilation (identity by way of host society)
5. attitude receptional assimilation (no prejudice toward immigrants)
6. behavior receptional assimilation (no discrimination toward immigrants)
7. civic assimilation (absence of power conflict)
John Berry, in 1980, built on Gordon's categories by posing two questions: 1) does the immigrant group wish to maintain its distinct cultural identity and 2) does the immigrant group wish good relationships with the host culture (163-164)? The result are four basic relationships to the broader culture:
1. If the immigrant group does not want to maintain a distinct identity and does want good relationships with the host culture, the result is assimilation.
2. If the immigrant group does want to maintain a distinct identity yet also wants good relationships with the host culture, the result is integration.
3. If the immigrant group does want to maintain a distinct identity yet does not want good relationships with the host culture, the result is separation.
4. Finally, if the immigrant group does not want to maintain a distinct identity and at the same time does not care about good relationships with the host culture, the result is marginalization.
Part 3
The final part of the chapter then takes all of the preceding processing of social scientific theory and attempts to use it in relation to 1 Peter. Here we arrive at one of Seland's contributions to the Balch/Elliott debate. The question is not really one of assimilation to Greco-Roman culture, as this is the cultural background of the likely Gentile audience (169-170). The question is that of the assimilation of the audience "to the (still developing) Christian system of cult, beliefs, ethos and symbols" (168). So in relation to the host culture, the question is best put as, "How much did he, by his letter, intend his readers to retain of that culture?" (173).
First, Seland argues that they are first generation Christians, "still in need of further acculturation/assimilation into the Christian system" (169). He is surely more correct than not in the light of statements such as we find in 1 Peter 1:14 and 4:3. However, we remember how large an area 1 Peter addresses and are careful not to presume an audience of any monolithic kind. They are primarily Gentile, and it is early enough in the Christian movement for the author to presume that the majority converted from paganism.
They are in a precarious social location. Here Torrey mentions briefly what he discusses more thoroughly in chapter 2. John Elliott is once again his requisite dialog partner. On the one hand, he agrees with Elliott that the phrase "aliens and exiles" in 1 Peter 2:11 does not refer to exile from heaven, as if the audience is on a heavenly pilgrimage (171).
Yet he also finds unconvincing Elliott's sense that they were strangers to these regions even before they converted. We will discuss this thesis in the next post as we review chapter 2. I am also unconvinced of Elliott's thesis and remain puzzled that commentators like Paul Achtemeier and Scot McKnight have followed Elliott on this issue.
At the same time, I'm still struggling with Seland's signature idea that this language in 1 Peter evokes connotations of proselyte language (more when we come to chapter 2). Seland is spot on when it comes to the audience being "proselytes" to Christian Judaism. But I'm having trouble seeing that the specific terms "aliens and exiles" carried those overtones. Indeed, I don't think it is safe at all to assume that the audience, especially in such a vast area, are relatively new converts. ***coming articles
The rest of the section then explores where 1 Peter might fit in relation to John Berry's four categories. Seland immediately dismisses out of hand the options of marginalization and separation. The author wishes the audience to maintain good relationships with the host society.
To address the question of integration versus assimilation, he switches back to Gordon's more detailed delineation of the process of assimilation (173-87). The first stage is acculturation or cultural assimilation in matters such as language. They are to live honorably among the Gentiles (2:12) while following a "new code of honor and shame" (176). Seland thus considers their level of acculturation to be high with some significant modifications.
He does not, however, consider their assimilation to be high in any of Gordon's other categories. The strong sense of harassment and conflict evoked in 1 Peter 2-3 do not reflect that of high assimilation between Christians and their environment structurally, and certainly not in terms of attitude or behavioral reception, let alone civic assimilation. It is assumed that some women will be married to non-believers, but it is unlikely the author would encourage such if it were possible to avoid. And while the audience is not encouraged to withdraw from its societal relations, it is clear that its self-indentification departs quite dramatically from its host environment.
The conclusion, which ironically Seland himself never mentions explicitly, is that the audience would best be typified by "integration" in Berry's typology.
more to come...
Chapter 5: "Conduct Yourselves Honorably Among the Gentiles" (1 Peter 2:12), Acculturation and Assimilation in 1 Peter
Seland read this paper in Edinburgh in 1998, and so it is the second essay of the book taken in chronological order. I personally found this chapter the most interesting and helpful of all.
In this chapter, Torrey addresses the question of the degree to which the author of 1 Peter intends for the audience to be assimilated to its non-Christian environment. His thesis is three fold (148). First, he does not believe the terms acculturation and assimilation have been used thus far to great advantage in analyzing the social strategies of 1 Peter. Secondly, those studies that have used these terms in relation to 1 Peter have not tapped into the extensive use of them in the social sciences.
Finally, he argues that they apply to the Christians of 1 Peter as "first generation Christians ... still in a process of being socialized into the Christian world view." Torrey suggests they are in somewhat of a "liminal" situation as newly converted Christians. As such, he sets out to review key literature on 1 Peter in relation to its social situation, to dip into relevant social scientific research on acculturation and assimilation, and then apply these findings to 1 Peter.
Part 1
Seland's review of relevant New Testament research leads him to three key players, namely, David Balch, John Elliott, and John Barclay. Balch's work focused primarily on the household codes of 1 Peter, and his basic thesis is that "such codes were used in a apologetic and legitimating way in Graeco-Roman sources" (150). Balch--at least in his earlier work--characterizes such a purpose as assimilation. The audience of 1 Peter is being told to integrate themselves into society.
Elliott disagrees. The fact that the letter calls for Christians to separate from the world, as well as its missionary emphases, indicate for him that the Petrine house codes are discouraging assimilation for the purpose of avoiding suffering. Seland's critique of both is that neither use the terms assimilation and accommodation with the precision of the social sciences.
Barclay, on the other hand, is more precise in his terms, although his well known work, Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora does not address 1 Peter. Barclay distinguishes three terms. First, Barclay uses the word assimilation in reference to the category of social interaction and the adoption of social practices from one's environment. Acculturation then is used in relation to broader cultural features like the use of the same language. Finally, accommodation has to do with the degree to which acculturation takes place, the level of separateness that either is or is not maintained.
In the end, Seland does not find this typology very helpful. He does not find Barclay's distinction between assimilation and acculturation very clear. Further, Barclay's nomenclature does not mesh well with the social scientific use of these terms.
Part 2
And so Seland embarks next on an exploration of recent research in the social sciences on acculturation and assimilation (156-66). His first stop is B. S. Heisler, whose work analyzes the history of research on this topic in three stages. She dubs research up until the late 60's the "classical period." In this period, the process of assimilation was viewed as a one way process ending in complete assimilation.
Heisler dubs the second period the "modern" period, beginning in the seventies. In this period research focused more on conflict, particularly long term conflict, and less on equilibrium. The third period is the "post-modern period," of recent origin (which given the date of this article would be the 1990's). Here we find the expectation of multicultural societies and ethnic pluralisms (158).
Seland mentions several other sources from which one might construct a model of acculturation/assimilation appropriate for 1 Peter. These include the fields of social psychology and communication research. Finally, he draws definitions of acculturation and assimilation from the International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences (160).
acculturation: "those changes set in motion by the coming together of societies with different cultural traditions."
Seland finds this statement in the article even more helpful: "Acculturation comprehends those phenomena which results [sic] when groups of individuals having different cultures come into continuous first-hand contact, with subsequent changes in the original cultural patterns of either or both groups."
assimilation: "a process in which persons of diverse ethnic and racial backgrounds come to interact, free of these constraints, in the life of the larger society."
After all this background, Seland ultimately turns to Milton Gordon's 1964 model (from the so called classical period of such research) with a few caveats. The main caveat is a warning that Gordon was wrongly "deterministic" in his sense of inevitability to the process of assimilation. Adjustment of two groups to each other is not the only option.
Gordon's model breaks down several different categories of assimilation:
1. cultural or behavioral assimilation (=acculturation)--fitting in with the host culture in a most basic way (presumably things like learning the language, getting the appropriate documents, etc...)
2. structural assimilation--participating in the clubs, institutions, etc. in large numbers. Gordon believed that once structural assimilation had taken place, all the forms of assimilation below would inevitably follow.
3. marital assimilation (intermarriage)
4. identificational assimilation (identity by way of host society)
5. attitude receptional assimilation (no prejudice toward immigrants)
6. behavior receptional assimilation (no discrimination toward immigrants)
7. civic assimilation (absence of power conflict)
John Berry, in 1980, built on Gordon's categories by posing two questions: 1) does the immigrant group wish to maintain its distinct cultural identity and 2) does the immigrant group wish good relationships with the host culture (163-164)? The result are four basic relationships to the broader culture:
1. If the immigrant group does not want to maintain a distinct identity and does want good relationships with the host culture, the result is assimilation.
2. If the immigrant group does want to maintain a distinct identity yet also wants good relationships with the host culture, the result is integration.
3. If the immigrant group does want to maintain a distinct identity yet does not want good relationships with the host culture, the result is separation.
4. Finally, if the immigrant group does not want to maintain a distinct identity and at the same time does not care about good relationships with the host culture, the result is marginalization.
Part 3
The final part of the chapter then takes all of the preceding processing of social scientific theory and attempts to use it in relation to 1 Peter. Here we arrive at one of Seland's contributions to the Balch/Elliott debate. The question is not really one of assimilation to Greco-Roman culture, as this is the cultural background of the likely Gentile audience (169-170). The question is that of the assimilation of the audience "to the (still developing) Christian system of cult, beliefs, ethos and symbols" (168). So in relation to the host culture, the question is best put as, "How much did he, by his letter, intend his readers to retain of that culture?" (173).
First, Seland argues that they are first generation Christians, "still in need of further acculturation/assimilation into the Christian system" (169). He is surely more correct than not in the light of statements such as we find in 1 Peter 1:14 and 4:3. However, we remember how large an area 1 Peter addresses and are careful not to presume an audience of any monolithic kind. They are primarily Gentile, and it is early enough in the Christian movement for the author to presume that the majority converted from paganism.
They are in a precarious social location. Here Torrey mentions briefly what he discusses more thoroughly in chapter 2. John Elliott is once again his requisite dialog partner. On the one hand, he agrees with Elliott that the phrase "aliens and exiles" in 1 Peter 2:11 does not refer to exile from heaven, as if the audience is on a heavenly pilgrimage (171).
Yet he also finds unconvincing Elliott's sense that they were strangers to these regions even before they converted. We will discuss this thesis in the next post as we review chapter 2. I am also unconvinced of Elliott's thesis and remain puzzled that commentators like Paul Achtemeier and Scot McKnight have followed Elliott on this issue.
At the same time, I'm still struggling with Seland's signature idea that this language in 1 Peter evokes connotations of proselyte language (more when we come to chapter 2). Seland is spot on when it comes to the audience being "proselytes" to Christian Judaism. But I'm having trouble seeing that the specific terms "aliens and exiles" carried those overtones. Indeed, I don't think it is safe at all to assume that the audience, especially in such a vast area, are relatively new converts. ***coming articles
The rest of the section then explores where 1 Peter might fit in relation to John Berry's four categories. Seland immediately dismisses out of hand the options of marginalization and separation. The author wishes the audience to maintain good relationships with the host society.
To address the question of integration versus assimilation, he switches back to Gordon's more detailed delineation of the process of assimilation (173-87). The first stage is acculturation or cultural assimilation in matters such as language. They are to live honorably among the Gentiles (2:12) while following a "new code of honor and shame" (176). Seland thus considers their level of acculturation to be high with some significant modifications.
He does not, however, consider their assimilation to be high in any of Gordon's other categories. The strong sense of harassment and conflict evoked in 1 Peter 2-3 do not reflect that of high assimilation between Christians and their environment structurally, and certainly not in terms of attitude or behavioral reception, let alone civic assimilation. It is assumed that some women will be married to non-believers, but it is unlikely the author would encourage such if it were possible to avoid. And while the audience is not encouraged to withdraw from its societal relations, it is clear that its self-indentification departs quite dramatically from its host environment.
The conclusion, which ironically Seland himself never mentions explicitly, is that the audience would best be typified by "integration" in Berry's typology.
more to come...
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Seland Review, Part 2
And now part 2 of my review of Torrey Seland's book Strangers in the Light: Philonic Perspectives on Christian Identity in 1 Peter. I want to go through the first chapter Seland wrote of the material in the book, from 1995, even though it is chapter 3 in the book itself.
Chapter 3: The 'Common Priesthood' of Philo and 1 Peter: A Philonic Reading of 1 Peter 2:5 & 9
This chapter originally appeared in the Journal for the Study of the New Testament in 1995. In this and chapter 4, Torrey experimented with a reader-response approach to 1 Peter, namely, how would an ideal "Philonic reader" understand and react to 1 Peter (79). This is an interesting question and a valid one.
However, Seland's work here raises certain questions. Since he is primarily a scholar of a historical-critical bent, why does he explore this Philonic reader? Does he have some underlying suspicion or inference he wants us to draw from this exercise? This question is particularly poignant when these two chapters are placed in juxtaposition with the other chapters in the book, especially those that attempt to shed light on 1 Peter by way of Philo's writings.
Seland's Philonic reader is "a Jewish reader who is well versed in Philo's works" who "would know the symbolic universe laid out in Philo's works just as well as Philo, if not better" (79). He notes that it has long been suggested that Philo's works may be of relevance for understanding 1 Peter, particularly when it comes to 1 Peter 2:5 (81). He spends the first half of the chapter summarizing Philo's views on the priesthoods of Israel, his views on the temple, the high priest, and the priesthood of Israel.
Throughout Seland's discussions of Philo here and elsewhere in the book, he is keen to deny that Philo "spiritualizes" the biblical text: Philo is "no blunt allegorizer" (82). Seland's concern seems to be to emphasize that Philo did not simply dismiss the literal practices of the biblical text in deference to purely "spiritual" reinterpretations. Thus Philo values the material sacrifices of the Jerusalem Temple (Mig. 92) and indeed the literal temple itself (Spec. 1.67). Seland prefers Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza's term "Kultisierung" or David Hay's "psychologizing" to describe Philo's propensity to move beyond the literal to more symbolic understandings of literal entities and practices (83).
Seland is correct to see a "both-and" approach in Philo to literal and allegorical interpretation. However, we wonder if the biases of a modernist age against allegorical interpretation are not at play here as well. While Philo valued the literal practices of the literal Jerusalem temple, it seems difficult not to conclude that he preferred the deeper meanings of Scripture and its cultic system to the literal ones (cf. Conf. 190; Mos. 2.108). Although it is difficult to say the least to locate Philo's writings in relation to contemporary events, we should not be surprised if Philo at some points took more interest in the literal temple in some of his writings as much because of his political environment as for his more rarified ideology (cf. Spec. 3.1).
Of most relevance for 1 Peter are Philo's characterization of Israel as being "to the whole inhabited world what the priest is to the State" (Spec. 2.162). Seland notes three ways in which Israel as a whole shares a common priesthood (88-91). First, they all keep the Law like priests, whose "chief and most essential quality" is piety (e.g., Mos. 1.66).
Secondly, they worship God as the true, one and only God in a way that the rest of the world does not. They thus provide appropriate worship to God, in a sense, for the rest of the world. The high priest also makes prayers and gives thanks not only for Israel to God, indeed, "not only on the behalf of the whole human race but also for the parts of nature, earth, water, air, fire" (Spec. 1.97; Seland 85-88).
Thirdly, in the rituals of the Passover especially, everyone in Israel acts as priest because the families kill their Passover lambs themselves without the mediation of a Levitical priest. In several respects, therefore, all Israel shares a priesthood beyond the specialized priests of the Levitical system.
The potential relevance of these latter aspects of Philo for 1 Peter 2:5 is obvious: "And you yourselves are built into a spiritual house as stones to be a holy priesthood to offer pleasing spiritual sacrifices to God through Jesus Christ" (my translation).
Also of concern in the rest of the chapter is 1 Peter 2:9: "But you are an elect race, a royal house, a priesthood, a holy nation, a people to possess, so that you might proclaim the virtues of the One who called you out of darkness into his astonishing light" (my translation).
Throughout the rest of the chapter (94-113), Torrey addresses the key exegetical issues of these two verses. His discussions are potentially frustrating, for they have an atmosphere of interest in what 1 Peter meant. Yet because the professed goal is to determine how a Philonic reader would read 1 Peter, conclusions are not clearly drawn about the meaning of 1 Peter. In other words, Seland's plane starts off down a historical critical runway with discussions of the original meaning of 1 Peter and literature to that end. But then the movie cuts to a quite different Philonic plane taking off. We are thus left somewhat uncertain about what happened to the other plane.
Is οικοδομεισθε in 1 Peter 2:5 indicative or imperative, or perhaps deliberately ambiguous? A Philonic reader would opt for indicative (94-95). Seland takes no position on what the meaning of 1 Peter is.
Is the οικος a house, a building, or a temple? Seland seems to disagree with John Elliott's arguments that it refers to a "household" rather than to a sanctuary (95-98). Elliott's agenda is to remove the His reasoning comes with his next question: Are the two words βασιλειον ιερατευμα to be taken as "royal priesthood" or as two separate nouns, "King's House, priesthood." With regard to 1 Peter, Seland is officially non-committal, although he rehearses the literature and notes that most take it as "royal priesthood" (98-101).
He does, however, draw a conclusion with regard to a Philonic reader. Philo explicitly interprets Exodus 19:6, which 1 Peter 2:5 echoes, twice: Abr. 56 and Sobr. 66. In these places, Philo takes the two words as two separate nouns, which agrees to that point with Elliott's interpretation of 1 Peter (101).
However, Seland differs strongly with Elliott's attempt to see the "King's House" in Abr. 56 as a reference to a royal palace. Since the king in question is God, Seland argues, the King's House is likely the temple, with the result that Israel is seen as the temple of God (103). Although he makes us to do some work to integrate his comments, Seland's conclusion is clearly that a Philonic reader would see the terms βασιλειον ιερατευμα as a reference to the audience of 1 Peter being a temple and priesthood, with the phrase "spiritual house" refering to them as a temple as well. *** Elliott's concern about anti-Jewish polemic (97)
Another interpretive issue Seland discusses is whether the term "priesthood" refers to Israel collectively or as individuals. Further, does 1 Peter have in mind Israel functioning as priests or is the reference more to a matter of their corporate identity? Seland notes the impact that an individual interpreter's theological tradition has seemed to play in one's conclusions (104).
With regard to a Philonic reader, Seland concludes that Philo would likely take the reference in a corporate sense, with the Jewish nation as a whole serving as priest (105-106; cf. Mos. 2.224). At the same time, all the individuals within Israel act as well, so while the corporate is primary, it entails individual action in the Passover. Seland is once again inexplicit about his conclusion on the question of function, but from his entire discussion it is clear that function is entailed in the common priesthood of Israel for Philo.
The final issue Seland discusses is whether the verb εξαγγειλητε in 1 Peter 2:9 has to do with missionary proclamation or declaration of praise to God (107-113). In his treatment of scholarship on 1 Peter, Seland refers sympathetic to the work of David Balch and J. Coppens that see this as a declaration of praise to God (112). But as his final concern is with a Philonic reader, Seland does not reach a firm conclusion on 1 Peter itself, concluding rather than a Philonic reader would likely side with Balch.
I found this chapter interesting and helpful. However, my main critique stands. I come away from it feeling as if Torrey is tricking me. He hooks me with a historical critical discussion of 1 Peter and discusses many aspects of Philo that would be relevant to drawing a conclusion in relation to the original meaning of 1 Peter. He gives me all the tools at hand to finish the historical-critical discussion.
But then at the last minute, rather than draw such a conclusion, he brings in his Philo ex machina and draws what at that point seems a tangential conclusion to what has been under discussion up to that point.
Chapter 3: The 'Common Priesthood' of Philo and 1 Peter: A Philonic Reading of 1 Peter 2:5 & 9
This chapter originally appeared in the Journal for the Study of the New Testament in 1995. In this and chapter 4, Torrey experimented with a reader-response approach to 1 Peter, namely, how would an ideal "Philonic reader" understand and react to 1 Peter (79). This is an interesting question and a valid one.
However, Seland's work here raises certain questions. Since he is primarily a scholar of a historical-critical bent, why does he explore this Philonic reader? Does he have some underlying suspicion or inference he wants us to draw from this exercise? This question is particularly poignant when these two chapters are placed in juxtaposition with the other chapters in the book, especially those that attempt to shed light on 1 Peter by way of Philo's writings.
Seland's Philonic reader is "a Jewish reader who is well versed in Philo's works" who "would know the symbolic universe laid out in Philo's works just as well as Philo, if not better" (79). He notes that it has long been suggested that Philo's works may be of relevance for understanding 1 Peter, particularly when it comes to 1 Peter 2:5 (81). He spends the first half of the chapter summarizing Philo's views on the priesthoods of Israel, his views on the temple, the high priest, and the priesthood of Israel.
Throughout Seland's discussions of Philo here and elsewhere in the book, he is keen to deny that Philo "spiritualizes" the biblical text: Philo is "no blunt allegorizer" (82). Seland's concern seems to be to emphasize that Philo did not simply dismiss the literal practices of the biblical text in deference to purely "spiritual" reinterpretations. Thus Philo values the material sacrifices of the Jerusalem Temple (Mig. 92) and indeed the literal temple itself (Spec. 1.67). Seland prefers Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza's term "Kultisierung" or David Hay's "psychologizing" to describe Philo's propensity to move beyond the literal to more symbolic understandings of literal entities and practices (83).
Seland is correct to see a "both-and" approach in Philo to literal and allegorical interpretation. However, we wonder if the biases of a modernist age against allegorical interpretation are not at play here as well. While Philo valued the literal practices of the literal Jerusalem temple, it seems difficult not to conclude that he preferred the deeper meanings of Scripture and its cultic system to the literal ones (cf. Conf. 190; Mos. 2.108). Although it is difficult to say the least to locate Philo's writings in relation to contemporary events, we should not be surprised if Philo at some points took more interest in the literal temple in some of his writings as much because of his political environment as for his more rarified ideology (cf. Spec. 3.1).
Of most relevance for 1 Peter are Philo's characterization of Israel as being "to the whole inhabited world what the priest is to the State" (Spec. 2.162). Seland notes three ways in which Israel as a whole shares a common priesthood (88-91). First, they all keep the Law like priests, whose "chief and most essential quality" is piety (e.g., Mos. 1.66).
Secondly, they worship God as the true, one and only God in a way that the rest of the world does not. They thus provide appropriate worship to God, in a sense, for the rest of the world. The high priest also makes prayers and gives thanks not only for Israel to God, indeed, "not only on the behalf of the whole human race but also for the parts of nature, earth, water, air, fire" (Spec. 1.97; Seland 85-88).
Thirdly, in the rituals of the Passover especially, everyone in Israel acts as priest because the families kill their Passover lambs themselves without the mediation of a Levitical priest. In several respects, therefore, all Israel shares a priesthood beyond the specialized priests of the Levitical system.
The potential relevance of these latter aspects of Philo for 1 Peter 2:5 is obvious: "And you yourselves are built into a spiritual house as stones to be a holy priesthood to offer pleasing spiritual sacrifices to God through Jesus Christ" (my translation).
Also of concern in the rest of the chapter is 1 Peter 2:9: "But you are an elect race, a royal house, a priesthood, a holy nation, a people to possess, so that you might proclaim the virtues of the One who called you out of darkness into his astonishing light" (my translation).
Throughout the rest of the chapter (94-113), Torrey addresses the key exegetical issues of these two verses. His discussions are potentially frustrating, for they have an atmosphere of interest in what 1 Peter meant. Yet because the professed goal is to determine how a Philonic reader would read 1 Peter, conclusions are not clearly drawn about the meaning of 1 Peter. In other words, Seland's plane starts off down a historical critical runway with discussions of the original meaning of 1 Peter and literature to that end. But then the movie cuts to a quite different Philonic plane taking off. We are thus left somewhat uncertain about what happened to the other plane.
Is οικοδομεισθε in 1 Peter 2:5 indicative or imperative, or perhaps deliberately ambiguous? A Philonic reader would opt for indicative (94-95). Seland takes no position on what the meaning of 1 Peter is.
Is the οικος a house, a building, or a temple? Seland seems to disagree with John Elliott's arguments that it refers to a "household" rather than to a sanctuary (95-98). Elliott's agenda is to remove the His reasoning comes with his next question: Are the two words βασιλειον ιερατευμα to be taken as "royal priesthood" or as two separate nouns, "King's House, priesthood." With regard to 1 Peter, Seland is officially non-committal, although he rehearses the literature and notes that most take it as "royal priesthood" (98-101).
He does, however, draw a conclusion with regard to a Philonic reader. Philo explicitly interprets Exodus 19:6, which 1 Peter 2:5 echoes, twice: Abr. 56 and Sobr. 66. In these places, Philo takes the two words as two separate nouns, which agrees to that point with Elliott's interpretation of 1 Peter (101).
However, Seland differs strongly with Elliott's attempt to see the "King's House" in Abr. 56 as a reference to a royal palace. Since the king in question is God, Seland argues, the King's House is likely the temple, with the result that Israel is seen as the temple of God (103). Although he makes us to do some work to integrate his comments, Seland's conclusion is clearly that a Philonic reader would see the terms βασιλειον ιερατευμα as a reference to the audience of 1 Peter being a temple and priesthood, with the phrase "spiritual house" refering to them as a temple as well. *** Elliott's concern about anti-Jewish polemic (97)
Another interpretive issue Seland discusses is whether the term "priesthood" refers to Israel collectively or as individuals. Further, does 1 Peter have in mind Israel functioning as priests or is the reference more to a matter of their corporate identity? Seland notes the impact that an individual interpreter's theological tradition has seemed to play in one's conclusions (104).
With regard to a Philonic reader, Seland concludes that Philo would likely take the reference in a corporate sense, with the Jewish nation as a whole serving as priest (105-106; cf. Mos. 2.224). At the same time, all the individuals within Israel act as well, so while the corporate is primary, it entails individual action in the Passover. Seland is once again inexplicit about his conclusion on the question of function, but from his entire discussion it is clear that function is entailed in the common priesthood of Israel for Philo.
The final issue Seland discusses is whether the verb εξαγγειλητε in 1 Peter 2:9 has to do with missionary proclamation or declaration of praise to God (107-113). In his treatment of scholarship on 1 Peter, Seland refers sympathetic to the work of David Balch and J. Coppens that see this as a declaration of praise to God (112). But as his final concern is with a Philonic reader, Seland does not reach a firm conclusion on 1 Peter itself, concluding rather than a Philonic reader would likely side with Balch.
I found this chapter interesting and helpful. However, my main critique stands. I come away from it feeling as if Torrey is tricking me. He hooks me with a historical critical discussion of 1 Peter and discusses many aspects of Philo that would be relevant to drawing a conclusion in relation to the original meaning of 1 Peter. He gives me all the tools at hand to finish the historical-critical discussion.
But then at the last minute, rather than draw such a conclusion, he brings in his Philo ex machina and draws what at that point seems a tangential conclusion to what has been under discussion up to that point.
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