Yearly Archives: 2005

Historical Note

The last post got me thinking about this so I thought I’d share…

Interestingly enough, the modern study of Old English (quick note: the language is Old English, the culture is Anglo-Saxon; people don’t speak Anglo-Saxon) was kicked off by the English Reformation. One of the topoi used to justify the Reformation was the restoration of the Ecclesia Anglicana defined as the “authentic” English church before its corruption by Romish and Papistical practices. The way these apologists handled it was by looking at Ælfric’s sermons… In fact, the very first OE text ever *printed* on the printing press was Catholic Homily 2.15, one of Ælfric’s sermons for Easter where he speaks in some detail about the Eucharist. This was done to prove that the “authentic” English Church didn’t buy into “that transubstantiation crap”… That was less than the last word on the subject, though, scholars, church historians and others have been arguing ever since then about the true meaning of the sermon. (Fr. Former Priest among them, Anastasia…) Here’s the bottom line. There were two guys, Radbertus and Ratramnus, Catholics claim the first as teaching proto-transubstantiation, Calvinists claim the second as teaching a purely symbolic understanding–both wings are over-reaching in my book. Anyway, Ælfric deftly merges the two, using the arguments from Ratramnus but the illustrations from Radbertus. So does he support it or not? Well, he certainly supports a literal Real Presence but doesn’t seem much to care about precise definitions of how it happens.

My realization is these apologist who appealed to Ælfric unknowingly did something rather interesting. First, they strengthened the Benedictine character and heritage of the emerging Anglican church (always a good thing in my book). Second, in arguing from Ælfric, they lept back to a pre-scholastic period. The true, formal, and proper definition of transubstantiation comes with Scholasticism and wasn’t formalized until that great scholastic century, the 13th (4th Lateran Council, 1215). Thus, these apologists were essentially advocating an Anglicanism heartily informed by *early* medieval Catholicism rather than *high* medieval Catholicism. I’m likin’ the way they were thinkin’… ;-)

As I’ve said before on this blog, the Western Christian Tradition can’t be reduced to a single big ‘T’ Tradition. There are strands; there are periods. You learn a lot about any liturgical enthusiast by considering what century they want to model off of and why. For instance, the Ritualists and Anglo-Catholics take the 14/15th centuries as their model. They essentially want to pretend as if the Reformation didn’t happened. The most recent liturgical renewal movement prefered the 4th century. They want to go back to the earliest complete sources and wipe out the intervening 16 hundred years. This line of thought adds fuel to MY fire…maybe an early medieval, more Benedictine, less Scholastic, style hearkens most clearly to the intent of at least one section of the Anglican Reformers. Hmmm. I’m going to have to look into that a bit more…

Early Medieval Theology

In reponse to bls’s comment–here’s some real early medieval theology for ya! It’s a chunk of chapter 2 wherein I collect from several sources the fundamental narrative that Aelfric works from. My working title for this file is “Aelfric’s Kerygma.” Enjoy…

Ælfric constantly returns to a core narrative of redemption throughout his homilies and other writings. While the content of this narrative is implicit inhis works, he explicitly presents it in four texts: the first sermon of the first book of the Catholic Homilies (CH I.1) where it is most clearly and directly defined, the Letter to Sigeweard (Sige) where it is interwoven with the whole history of Israel, and the Letter to Wulfgeat (Wulf) and the second Letter to Wulfstan (2Lup) where it appears in summary.
The heart of the narrative is the story of the creeds: The Holy Trinity, one God in three persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is eternal and pre-existent. [CH I.1.6-9, 17-21; Sige.30-44; Wulf] The Trinity–primarily through the Father and the Son–created the world, all things seen and unseen. [CH I.1.9-13, 21; Sige.28-34; Wulf] The Holy Spirit holds all things in life and forgives those who truly repent [Sige.40-44; Wulf].
In the process of creation, God created ten angel hosts. [CH I.1.22-26; Sige.51-54; Wulf] The tenth host, led by Lucifer, rebelled against God on account of Lucifer’s pride [CH I.1.29-43; Sige.67-101; Wulf] and were cast from heaven. [CH I.1.43-45; Sige.101-105] This host exists now as the demonic order. [CH I.1.26-27, 34-39, 57-62; Sige.105-107; Wulf] In order to replace this host, [CH I.1.62-64; Sige.113-116] God created humanity–first Adam, then Eve–and placed them in the garden, [CH I.1.64-73, 86-94; Sige.108-113; Wulf] presenting the tree in the center of the garden as a test of obedience and loyalty–the loyalty that Satan and his host lacked. [CH I.1.74-83; Sige.116-117] Through the devil’s trickery Eve was deceived [CH I.1.125-139; Sige.117-118; Wulf] and humanity disobeyed God’s command, [CH I.1.139-142; Sige.118-119; Wulf] receiving dismisal from the garden and death as a consequence. [CH I.1.142-154; Sige.119-120; Wulf]
From Adam came Noah who had three sons; [CH I.1.181-190; Sige.158-161] after God led them through the flood, [CH I.1.191-202; Sige.150-156, 195-197] the eldest of the sons, Shem was the ancestor of the Hebrews [CH I.1.222-231; Sige.239-241] whom God rescued from Egypt [CH I.1.232; Sige.325-359] and to whom the Law was given. [CH I.1.232; Sige.366-370]
From the Hebrew people God chose the Blessed Virgin Mary [CH I.1.236-241; Sige.891-892; Wulf] from whom Jesus was born incarnate by the Holy Spirit. [CH I.1.241-245; Wulf] Jesus performed a great many miracles that the people might believe that he was the Son of God. [CH I.1.253-261; Sige.900, 913-917] He taught that humanity must believe rightly in God, be baptized, and demonstrate faith with good works. [CH I.1.261-264] Fundamentally, though, he came for the redemption of humanity. [CH I.1.245-246, 270-273; Sige.918; Wulf] The devil used Judas to incite the Jews to kill Jesus [CH I.1.265-275] and he was crucified. [CH I.1.275-276; Sige.917-918; Wulf] After the crucifixion he was buried [CH I.1.276-277; Wulf] and descended into hell where he conquered the devil [CH I.1.277-278; Wulf] and freed Adam, Eve, and their descendants. [CH I.1.278-280; Wulf] He arose from the dead on the third day [CH I.1.280-281; Sige.918-919; Wulf] and rejoined his disciples, teaching them that they must go throughout the earth, teaching and baptizing. [CH I.1.281-284] On the fortieth day he ascended bodily into heaven and was seated at the right hand of the Father. [CH I.1.284-287; Sige.919-920; Wulf] He will come at the end of time on the clouds with great power and will raise all souls that they may be judged. [CH I.1.287-291; Sige.920-921; Wulf] The wicked will be cast into eternal fire; the righteous he will bring into the heavenly kingdom. [CH I.1.291-293; Sige.922; Wulf]

Update

Things are proceeding well:
* M will be deaconing at our parish in Philly. Yay! It’s not a job, but at least she’ll be able to do some of the things that she’s called to do.
* We’ve been a little concerned with all the marketing, all the ads, all the Sanata/Frosty/Rudolph movies that Lil’ G may be unclear on the true meaning of Christmas. Not to worry. When we asked her what Christams is about at the dinner table a few nights ago she sang Happy Birthday to Jesus–then proceeded to blow out the Advent wreath…
* Chapter two has fit together with a big clunk. Not only do I now know all of the consitutent parts, I now know exactly how they fit together. Short form: The early medievals considered Scritpure to be eschatological epic. That is, it is a grand narrative of Christ’s battle against the devil for the redemption of humanity. Everything gets fit into this pattern. The exegetical tools are those of the literary arts becsause they allow the patterns of the redemption story to be found in isolated pericopes and the OT. The liturgical year too is a variant of this eschatological epic especially as it begins–in most early medieval kalendars–with Christmas (the birth of the hero) and ends with Advent (his triumphant return at the great Day of Judgement).
* Transit strike. Not so bad; I walk about 40-odd blocks and don’t get in terribly later than I usually do. It’s fun to whine about it though! ;-) I have no sympathy for the union. I only get a 3% cost of living increase and have to pay a hell of a lot more than 1% for basic benefits. My salary’s fairly comparable too but I have to have quite a bit more schooling (which, let’s not forget, costs money and still has to be paid back) to do my job. Oh well. We’re hoofin’ it for the foreseeable future.

Where’d they go!?!

So it’s almost Advent 3 and I’ve just now found my Daily Office Book for Year 2 from the box it was hiding in. I’ve been using my good ol’ BCP and Bible before now. I have to say–I’m annoyed. Since Advent is a penitential season (yes, less so than Lent but it’s still penitential…) I’ve been adding in the Litany or the Supplication on certain days. But they’re not in the Daily Office Book! What good is a penitential season if you can’t get all properly penitential? *sigh…* I’ll probably just go to Rite I for the season…

Scripture III

Origen of Alexandria, in wrestling with the Scriptures in the second century–thus at the beginning of the Christian exegetical project–wrote these words:

For just as man consists of body, soul, and spirit, so in the same way does the scripture, which has been prepared by God to be given for man’s salvation. (De Princ. IV.4)

But since there are certain passages of scripture which, as we shall show in what follows, have no bodily sense at all, there are occasions when we must seek only for the soul and the spirit, as it were, of the passage. (IV.5)

In writing about the Law and the histories he states:

But the most wonderful thing is, that by means of stories of wars and the conquerors and the conquered certain secret truths are revealed to those who are capable of examining these narratives; and even more marvellous, through a system of law the laws of truth are prophetically indicated, all of these having been recorded in a series with a power which is truly appropriate to the wisdom of God. For the intention was to make even the outer covering of the spiritual truths, I mean the bodily parts of the scriptures, in many respects not unprofitable but capable of improving the multitude in so far as they receive it.
But if the usefulness of the law and the sequence and ease of the narrative were at first clearly discernible throughout, we should be unaware that there was anything beyond the obvious meaning for us to understand in the scriptures. Consequently the Word of God has arranged for certain stumbling-blocks, as it were, and hindrances and impossibilities to be inserted in the midst of he law and the history, in order that we may not be completely drawn away by the sheer attractiveness of the language, and so reject the true doctrines absolutely, on the ground that we learn from the scriptures nothing worthy of God, or else by never moving away from the letter fail to learn anything of the more divine element. And we must also know this, that because the principle aim was to announce the connexion that exists among spiritual events, those that have already happened and those that are yet to come to pass, whenever the Word found that things which had happened in history could be harmonised with these mystical events he used them, concealing from the multitude their deeper meaning. But wherever in the narrative the accomplishment of some particular deeds, which had been previously recorded for the sake of their more mystical meanings, did not correspond with the sequence of the intellectual truths, the scripture wove into the story something which did not happen, occasionally something which could not happen, and occasionally something which might have happened but in fact did not. Sometimes a few words are inserted which in the bodily sense are not true, and at other times a greater number.
A similar method can be discerned also in the law where it is often possible to find a precept that is useful for its own sake, and suitable to the time when the law was given. Sometimes, however, the precept does not appear to be useful. At other times even impossibilities are recorded in the law for the sake of more skilful and inquiring readers, in order that these, by giving themselves to the toil of examining what is written, may gain a sound conviction of the necessity of seeking in such instances a meaning worthy of God.
And not only did the Spirit supervise the writings which were previous to the coming of Christ, but because he is the same Spirit and proceeds from the one God he has dealt in like manner with the gospels and the writings of the apostles. For the history even of these is not everywhere pure, events being woven together ion the bodily sense without having actually happened; nor do the law and the commandments contained therein entirely declare what is reasonable. (IV.8-9)

What Origen is up to here is rather important–as well as being complicated–which is why I have included so much of it here. Essentially, Origen is an extremely close reader of the text. As a close reader, he has discovered inconsistencies, errors, and impossibilities in the biblical text. In light of a faith based in the Church and taking 2 Tim 3:qy quite seriously, he finds a way to understand these.

In his schema, all Scripture has at least three potential kinds of meanings, a bodily or literal sense., a soul or an ethical sense, and a spiritual or mystical sense. The most important and foundational is the last–not the first. Origen was an educated Alexandrian. He had read history books and philosophy books. In comparison, he understood Scripture to be something different–a revelation of God and truths about God and humanity. Thus, these were the most important meanings. All Scripture had a spiritual sense–not all of it had a literal sense. Indeed, Origen tells us that the various errors and inconsistencies in Scriptures were placed there precisely that we may not mistake the literal sense for the only or even the most important sense. The real key are the spiritual truths communicated through historical and legal metaphors. (And yes, I’ve written on this a bit before in my post on the Creed.)

What are the key things that I want you to take away from this huge excerpt? Three things:
1. Origen finds errors and inconsistencies in both the Old and New Testaments. As careful readers concerned about the truth he had to account for them. The same is true for us.
2. Origen ultimately concludes that the heart of the Scripture is spiritual teaching about God and His relationship with humanity.
3. Origen’s chief interpretive concern is to find “a meaning worthy of God.” Thus, the Scriptures must be read and searched with a specific purpose in mind. If one way of reading does not yield a meaning worthy of God, then another must be sought.

In conclusion, I must note that Origen’s writings were condemned by popes and councils. This condemnation had much to do with a clash of fourth century personalities and the aftermath of the debates between Rufinius and Jerome. What doomed Origen were an insufficient doctrine of the Trinity (his second century reasoning did not match fourth century norms) and the notion that the devil himself will be redeemed if God is to be “all in all.” Tied to this is also a suggestion of the transmigration of souls which is rather problematic… His principles for reading Scripture were not condemned, though, but formed the bedrock of the Christian interpretive tradition. That is, disagree with the above statements as you like but they represent a legitimate and important voice in patristic Christianity.

Moving along to a less controversial character, I’d like to also present a citation from Gregory of Nyssa from his ascetical treatise Life of Moses. In this reflection, he is pondering the tenth plague wherein all of the first-born sons of Egypt were slain in order to compel Pharaoh to let the Israelites go:

It does not seem good to me to pass this interpretation by without further contemplation. How could a concept worthy of God be preserved in the description of what happened if one looked only to the history? The Egyptian [Pharaoh] acts unjustly, and in his place is punished his newborn child, who in his infancy cannot discern what is good and what is not. His life has no experience of evil, for infancy is not capable of passion. He does not know how to distinguish his right hand from his left. The infant lifts his eyes only to his mother’s nipple, and tears are the sole perceptible sign of his sadness. And if he obtains anything which his nature desires, he signifies his pleasure by smiling. If such a one now pays the penalty of his father’s wickedness, where is justice? Where is piety? Where is holiness? Where is Ezekiel, who cries: “The man who has sinned is the man who must die” and “a son is not to suffer for the sins of his father”? How can the history so contradict reason?
Therefore, as we look for the true spiritual meaning, seeking to determine whether the events took place typologically , we should be prepared to believe that the lawgiver has taught through the things said. The teaching is this: When through virtue one comes to grips with any evil, he must completely destroy the first beginnings of evil. (Vita Mos. II.91-92)

Here we can see the logic of Origen’s position being played out in a practical example. Gregory is horrified by the notion that God slew the children of Egypt for their fathers’ evil deeds. In a series of rhetorical questions he rejects that this could be the true meaning of the text. Key phrases in his denial include: “How can the history so contradict reason” and the notion of a “concept worthy of God”.

If we were to add yet one more influential early interpreter of Scripture to the fray, we could do no worse than to cite Augustine, a chief cornerstone of Western theology and the author of the most important early interpretive treatise in the West, On Christian Doctrine. In this work, Augustine describes how to know when which sense of Scripture is to be preferred:

But in addition to the foregoing rule, which guards us against taking a metaphorical form of speech as if it were literal, we must also pay heed to that which tells us not to take a literal form of speech as if it were figurative. In the first place, then, we must show the way to find out whether a phrase is literal or figurative. And the way is certainly as follows: Whatever there is in the word of God that cannot, when taken literally, be referred either to purity of life or soundness of doctrine, you may set down as figurative. Purity of life has reference to the love of God and one’s neighbor; soundness of doctrine to the knowledge of God and one’s neighbor. Every man, moreover, has hope in his own conscience, so far as he perceives that he has attained to the love and knowledge of God and his neighbor. Now all these matters have been spoken of in the first book.

But as men are prone to estimate sins, not by reference to their inherent sinfulness, but rather by reference to their own customs, it frequently happens that a man will think nothing blameable except what the men of his own country and time are accustomed to condemn, and nothing worthy of praise or approval except what is sanctioned by the custom of his companions; and thus it comes to pass, that if Scripture either enjoins what is opposed to the customs of the hearers, or condemns what is not so opposed, and if at the same time the authority of the word has a hold upon their minds, they think that the expression is figurative. Now Scripture enjoins nothing except charity, and condemns nothing except lust, and in that way fashions the lives of men. In the same way, if an erroneous opinion has taken possession of the mind, men think that whatever Scripture asserts contrary to this must be figurative. Now Scripture asserts nothing but the catholic faith, in regard to things past, future, and present. It is a narrative of the past, a prophecy of the future, and a description of the present. But all these tend to nourish and strengthen charity, and to overcome and root out lust. (Doct. Chr. III.14-15)

The second paragraph is quite interesting, especially in light of current disputes. However, in opening this line of thought he opens up a can of worms that he never manages to close…

A practical example is his interpretation of Super flumina (137)–from the appointed Psalter a couple nights ago. The final verse of the psalm is not just troubling to modern readers but to ancient ones as well. Augustine works with it in this way. The psalm is not advocating smashing babies onto rocks; no, Babylon is the Devil (viz. Rev.) The little ones of Babylon are thus nascent sins. The rock (viz. Paul) is Christ. Thus, when we feel sinful thoughts stirring, we must immediately dash them against Christ instead of acting upon them. In this way is a man truly blessed.

Why trot all this out? Why go to such great lengths to show what old dead guys thought? One reason is because Anglicanism considers them to be important witnesses (viz. Lancelot Andrewes’s dictum: one canon, two testaments, three creeds, four councils, five centuries and the Fathers in them.) But how are these Fathers authoritative–is it just in their words and concepts or is it in their methods as well? I would argue that if we take their words to be good guides then we must regard their methods also as worthy of emulation.

This is where I’m going; in a round-about way we’ve been headed towards the question of what we look for and how we take the words of God and words about God. Do we listen to, follow, and emulate the words, actions, and commands of God because they are good or because He is God? It’s not an easy question. Do we follow God’s commands because He is God and therefore whatever He says goes or because we know, discern and trust that God’s ways are good and salutary? In many cases there need be no distinction. In these examples, though, these faithful authors have identified conflicts between the straight-forward plain or literal sense of the text and the benevolence of God. In these cases they have identified that a good meaning worthy of God is to be sought for and found.

Let me reinforce a couple of points here.
1. Would Origen, Gregory of Nyssa and Augustine concur with the bumper sticker “God said it, I believe it, that settles it” in the cases of the above scripture passages? Yes! But there would be disagreement on just what it is that God is saying… All three will reject the literal sense of the passage and state that this is *not* what God is saying–God is saying something else entirely that must be discerned carefully, some times subtly.
2. Whenever notions of “good” or “worthy” are introduced, we move to a level of interpretation that is governed by philosophical—and culturally-bound Mr. St Augustine… —understandings of what “good” and “worthy” are. Modern readers and exegetes are often accused of importing philosophy into our reading process. And the criticisms are correct; we are. However–this has always been the case as our patristic authors demonstrate and even those who claim not to do it–are doing it.

Is any such importation of philosophy legitimized thereby? Of course not. But, it does mean that we must at times discern what is good and what is worthy of God. In this case, I regard Augustine’s dictum as the most valuable: whatever meaning most aids the edification of God’s Church and the growth into to the true love and true knowledge of God and neighbor is to be preferred. Is there room for disagreement here? Yes. Is there the potential for error here? Yes–but that is our lot.

Incarnation is a messy business. Scripture is never, can never, and should never be read in a vacuum. Instead, it is read in the context of the Church, with the help of the Spirit, with the support and insights of other Christians, shaped by the experience of the liturgy, works of mercy, and disciplines of praise and repentance. Ever we must be open and attentive to how God is attempting through his Word and Spirit to lead us more fully into the mind of Christ which is perfect love.

Scripture II

While my first book, O Theophilus, dealt with matters of genre and text, due to popular demand, this book shall examine how we understand Scripture–indeed, how Scripture can be Scripture. Even, how can *all* of Scripture be Scripture for us. In this regard, I would like to approach the problem from two complimentary directions. The first is theological, the second, catechetical.

Theologically, I understand Scripture to be the Word of God. But there is another whom we also call the Word of God, Christ Jesus our Lord. I propose that our way for understanding them both ought to be related. In fact, I wish to begin by discussing Incarnation in general. Incarnation, most simply, is how our God of Spirit, truth, and power, humbles Himself, veils Himself, to take on flesh and matter and to speak to us on our terms and in our ways. It is the means of divine self-revelation. At this point, I must state a fundamental axiom: Incarnation is messy. It involves things like mud, dirt, flesh, things that are limited and that decay. Furthermore–it’s uncertain. Incarnation isn’t an easy thing to parse out. Separating the divine and the earthly is a complicated task that I’m not sure is ever finished–and that’s part of the point as I see it.

From my perspective, it seems that Jesus, the Scriptures, the Eucharist, and the Church are all best understood as following the same essential incarnational logic. Thus, we can use what we know of Christ and move from there. Let’s review that, though, lest there be confusion…

The best way that I’ve found to both understand and explain this is through the application of Divine Algebra. There are a couple of theorems at work here.
1. 1+1+1=1 or that the Father+the Son+the Spirit=God.
2. 100%+100%=100% or that Jesus is fully human and fully divine.
Now, neither of these follow the rules of normal, standard Base 10 math or Euclidean geometry. The numbers don’t balance to our way of thinking. Most (if not all) of the major Christological or Trinitarian heresies can be explained by attempting to make the math balance. Thus, in theorem 1, the Unitarians try to take the first 1 (the Father) and get rid of the others. The Marcionites tried to take the second (the Son) and lose the first. The Montanists just wanted the third.

Similarly, in regard to theorem 2 the Docetists wanted the fully divine Jesus and to gloss the human, the Adoptionists wanted the reverse, and the folks who said Jesus had a human body but a divine soul wanted to go 50%-50%…

However, emerging orthodoxy affirmed that the more mysterious numbers were, in fact, those confirmed by Scripture, Tradition, and–yes–the people’s experience of God.

So what would happen if we took this Divine Algebra and applied it to the Scriptures? What would it mean to say that the Scriptures themselves are 100% human and 100% divine? Well, for one thing it would mean that we would have to dispense with the whole wheat/chaff line of thought. There was a movement in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that argued that Scripture had essentially two parts, a human, particular, limited, irrational, contextual part and a divine, eternal, comprehensive, universal, rational and True part. All that had to be done was to determine which was which. The good stuff could be kept, the other stuff discarded. The Jefferson Bible is an example of this logic…

What ended up happening is that you got, essentially, a racist version of the Bible that went through the NT (and OT) and discarded anything “too Jewish” (and irrational and contextual, etc.) in favor of the “Greek” portions. Furthermore, interestingly, scholars seemed to disagree with what was eternal and timeless; it kept looking like whatever the philosophy of the month was…

This means of reading is alive and well today. People go through and pick what they like, call it the eternal truth, and suggest that the other stuff is time-bound and therefore irrelevant. Hey–I’ve done it myself. Let me suggest, though, that this is not really the best way to either encounter or honor the text. [nb: This is not to say, however, that Christians are covenant-bound to obey the Law. We’re not. Christ, Paul, and a bunch of others made that clear. On the other hand, this doesn’t mean that the Law is not the word of God.]

What I am suggesting is that we be open to the entire Scripture as the Word of God. The whole Scripture ultimately points to Christ. The Spirit speaks to us pre-eminently through this text. Even those parts that we don’t like, the “texts of terror” have to potential to be opened for us by the Spirit. The Spirit may lead us to see the love of God in them even if it is through the Spirit demonstrating that the love of God is greater than these texts. Offensiveness is part of being human, material, limited, but such things do not preclude the presence, movement, or reversal of God.

Never forget that the Word of God is living and active as Hebrews tells us. The words of Scripture are static, fixed, and limited in ways that God is not. However, our reading of Scripture in the Spirit is ever new, ever alive. Following Heraclitus, you never read the same passage of Scripture. While your eyes may pass over the same letters, the circumstances of your life, the movement of the Spirit in the world, the oppressive realities of sin, the ongoing redemptive activity of God are all making the Scriptures new, allowing them and aiding them to mediate the true Word of God who is Spirit and Truth and who has promised to reveal himself to those who love him.

This is the fully divine part of Scripture. The Scriptures are the pre-eminent way that we encounter God’s ongoing self-revelation.

The fully human part is the recognition that Scripture was written by limited, fallible, prejudiced human beings. Yes, these were men (and maybe a few women) who lived in certain cultures who thought in certain languages, and whose worlds were bounded by certain realities–realities that we may neither know nor understand. There are errors in Scripture, factual errors, grammatical errors, syntactical errors, etc. Scripture itself seems to point out conceptual errors is other parts of Scripture (a prime example being the interplay between Job and Proverbs…) These are writings by men about how they have seen, considered, and understood God’s relationship with His people.

But once again, we believe that God’s Spirit was at work in them as they wrote, enabling God’s self-revelation to speak through their words, their images, their prejudices, and yes, even their errors. But in order to hear this we must listen with the ears of the Spirit.

That’s one way of understanding the Scriptures–a theological perspective. It may be a little too theoretical for the liking of some, so let me approach it from a different, and complementary, direction: the catechetical.

One of the classic questions in the study of the NT is formed like this: if we were to discover a letter tomorrow that we could absolutely establish beyond a shadow of a doubt to be from the very hand of Paul, should we accept it into the canon? Or, even more difficult, if we found a writing from Jesus Himself, should it be included in the canon? My answer to both would be–no.

Why, you ask? Because of this: The canon, the whole of the Scriptures, are the writings by which and in which Christians have formed themselves for centuries. We have formed ourselves in relation to these texts from the time of the apostles, through the Roman persecutions, through the adoption of Christianity, through the Dark Ages, through the Renaissance, through to our own day. These are the texts that we have lived in, prayed with, argued with, pondered over, disagreed with, and found comfort in. These are literally the texts that have made us who we are. Should we throw out the Pastoral Epistles since we don’t like what they say about women or hierarchy? Christians–Christian women–have been hearing, reading and disagreeing with these texts for centuries. Even this disagreement is part of the process of formation. It is with the Spirit and in light of God’s full revelation that we read of the wars of genocide and the hurban–the devotion of entire cities to slaughter–that we disagree and say that this is not God’s way. But to remove, to excise, these texts is to lose the opportunity to struggle against them and to shape ourselves in relation to them.

This view takes the authority of Scripture very seriously. It means that we must take seriously and engage Scripture even when and where we don’t like it. That those passages we don’t like should be read again, straining the ears of the heart to hear the voice of the Spirit, teaching us, leading us into the mind of Christ. Is it the same as “God said it, I believe it, that settles it”? Hell no. Because it’s never that easy–even for the people who sport those bumper stickers.

Of course, this means that engaging the Scriptures must be a discipline. Some may ask, why should I read texts that cause me pain or that offend against me or that have been used to demonize and oppress me for centuries? My reply would be twofold. First, because the are the Scriptures. They must be wrestled with, they must be dealt with. BUT–they should be encountered in God’s good time. We may need to put certain texts away for a season. For those parts and passages that have been used as sharp rocks it may be necessary to gain strength in other places before revisiting them again. Some Scriptures of comfort and consolation may be required as wine and oil for our spiritual wounds before encountering the others. However, in some season, encountered they must be.

This is one of the purposes and powers of the liturgy, especially the liturgy of the Daily Office. Proper liturgy *is* the disciplined encounter with Scripture. With all of Scripture. And it is administered in short doses If some passages seem too much to bear, they are always surrounded by other words that contain encouragement and consolation (one of the purposes of the post-Scripture canticles imo).

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Having said the things I have purposed to say, it seems fitting to pause at this point and to declare an end to Book 2. There are things in here that may be difficult and that you may disagree with. These are my reflections on a life with Scripture; I welcome yours….

Scripture I

Here’s the first installment of the promised Scripture post…

I’ll start my discussion with the theological question as I believe our answer to this must ground a full-on discussion of Scripture in the public forum in order to avoid misunderstandings and certain unintentional misinterpretations. What is the Bible, theologically speaking? In response to this question, I reply that Scripture is the inspired Word of God, God’s own self-revelation to humanity for the sake of our salvation through faith in Christ Jesus [nb: not contains but is. The difference? “Contains” can be a dodge to say “only the stuff in there I like is God’s Word”; with the use of “is” I’m closing that loophole for myself]. In Scripture, we have the words of human authors inspired by the Holy Spirit that depict and communicate God’s dealings with humanity, especially Israel and the Church, for our edification, reproof, correction and training in righteousness [nb: the majority of that last sentence modifies “words”–not “human authors”. I don’t deny the inspiration of the human authors, mind you, but the words are canonical, not the authors. And yes, you’ll note that I quite consciously used 2 Tim 3:16, favored proof-text of conservatives and the horror of liberals.] As a text–like all other texts (or forms of communication for that matter)–it requires interpretation. Make no mistake here. Any act of comprehension is an act of interpretation. [When we take anything into our mind it passes through our own filters that are conditioned by our own personality and culture. The filters affect some kinds of information more than others but they are always in place. I’ll give you an example: 5+5=10. This is pretty objective, right? Not as much as you’d think…the use of Base 10 is a cultural assumption.]

Should the Bible be read literally? Well, that’s a premature question and it starts at the wrong place. Acts of interpretation are bound up with expectations and assumptions. Our cultures mediate to us certain implicit understandings about various forms of communication and how to interpret them. We pick up on clues both subtle and not so subtle that let us know how we are suppose to understand things. Examples? But of course! 1) Once upon a time 2) A man walks into a bar 3) You could already be a winner.

1. Once upon a time Our cultural milieu embeds an automatic knowledge of this phrase into us by the age of five through the use of the bedtime story–this signals a fairy tale. But how–through the meaning of the words? No. The words themselves do not denote that what follows is a work of creative fiction. They reveal a certain ambiguity of time and place but that’s as far as they go. Ponder this: what would a non-native English speaker make of these words? Or–as I like to ask my students–do you know how to say “Once upon a time” in Hebrew? It’s not a linguistic question–it’s an interpretive one.

2. A man walks into a bar Again, our cultural milieu lets us know that what follows is a joke. In certain company it also signals a cue to cover the ears of any young children seated nearby since many jokes that start this way tend to be…vulgar.

3. You could already be a winner When imprinted upon a piece of mail this is a signifier meaning “recycle me.” On an internet pop-up window, it means “close me–the faster the better…” On a piece of email, “delete me–and don’t even think of opening that attachment.” We know this is a scam even though the literal sense of the words proclaims the exact opposite.

My point is this: interpretation is a complex act. It doesn’t start with individual words, but by making a judgment on the genre of the text and making a decision about how the words are supposed to be interpreted. That’s why the “literal” question is a premature one. You can’t make that decision until you know what kind of text you’re dealing with and even when you’ve decided that a literal interpretation of two different genres is not necessarily the same thing. Content is only half of the process; context also has a profound effect on meaning.

Let me clarify that. This sentence: “In 1127, Robert of Notre Dame made a heroic escape from a closely-guarded prison in Burgundy aided only by one of his loyal knights and a common house-cat.” is a relatively straight-forward sentence. There might be some room for allegory and metaphor in there but precious little. [The reference to the knight and the cat seems to be a synecdoche for a larger plan of escape–but that’s the only literary device I can find.] On the surface, the sentence contains certain points which lead us towards an interpretation of its meaning: dates, names, places. Furthermore, it displays an internal consistency. The names, places, dates, and objects mentioned all seem historically plausible. Now–is this sentence from a history book or from a novel? That’s the key question.

What’s important to notice is that we would still read the sentence the same way–literally, as it were–if it were from a history book or a novel; the difference would be the meaning that we take from it. If the sentence appears in a history book, it would convey a certain historical fact. If it was from an historical novel, its facticity could be up for debate. Is it a piece of history inserted into the novel or is it a literary creation of the author? In one case, we might treat it as if it came from a history book–though reserving a certain skepticism given the source–in the other we would expect it to fit into the author’s overall message depending on how this sentence figures in the plot. Is it a little bit of character development or is the whole story about the escape? [For those wondering, I made the sentence up.]

Please note my use of the word “facticity” above. The word I didn’t use was “truth.” Facts are a category of things contained within the set of things that are true, not the total set of things that are true. There are true things and statements that are not scientifically quantifyable “facts.” Furthermore, I’m prepared to argue that history books contain truth and that novels can also contain truth. These are different kinds of truth, packaged in different ways and intended for different purposes, but that does not make one true and the other untrue.

Okay, enough digressions–my point here is that both content and context must be considered in order to arrive at meaning. Let’s take the discussion back to the Bible. I do want to stay on the genre thing for a moment, though, and loop back to my initial comments about assumptions and expectations.

We have expectations of certain texts. These expectations include culturally assumed limits on a text’s contents, authority, and relative truth claims. This is entirely natural and appropriate. Furthermore, these are based on genre identification. When I pick up a book entitled Quick Dinnertime Meals I expect it to contain recipes that I can follow to whip up a quick and tasty meal for my family. I don’t want it to be a poet’s interpretive feeling of what ingredients could go together in a euphonious fashion. My expectation of a book entitled A True History of the Templars will be different if I’m pulling it out of the stacks of a research library than if I’m taking it from a rack next to the supermarket checkout. One of the modern issues with Scripture, I’m convinced, is genre identification that is intimately bound up with the issue of expectations.

When an Israelite picked up Deuteronomy, or Jonah, or the Psalms, he would unconsciously identify the various genres of the books as his culture had conditioned him (he knew what “Once upon a time” is in 8th century Hebrew…). When we pick them up, we see them as all part of the same genre–Holy Scripture. This makes a huge difference in our expectations of what these books contain and thus in how we understand them from the expectations of how contemporary readers–and their authors, even–understood them.

One of the reasons why there is great resistance among laity and first-year seminarians to the discipline of biblical studies is because one of the first tasks of the instructor is to reorient the assumptions and expectations about the biblical text. This can either be done poorly or be done well. Let me just say that I’ve rarely seen it done well… Often, especially in undergraduate institutions, religion profs take a certain glee in stripping the naively religious students of their assumptions through the use of shock tactics.
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In Antiquity works were divided into books and volumes. This was a practical concern based initially on the length of a roll of papyrus. When you reached the end of one, you had book 1 and it was time to start book 2. My handheld’s battery is about to die [yes, I’m writing this on the train]; if it does, I’ll lose this–so here endeth book 1!

Musings on All Souls

Yes. I’m procrastinating. I should be writing Very Intelligent Things on knowing and unknowing in the Cloud of Unknowing for a book chapter I stupidly got roped into doing. I’ve just printed out a good set of Aquinas extracts and the Epistle of Discretion for marking up alongside the Cloud and am celebrating that hard-won progress by doing random blogging…

I love All Souls. It’s the last bit of the goth Triduum (Halloween, All Saints, and All Souls) and the only set day of the Sanctorale where the appointed color is black. And the vestments today at church were to die for… (Literally, of course–it’s the set they use for Requiem masses.) But as I was telling Dave on the phone, I think that the current protestant attempt to recover the saints in general and All Saints in particular has really wrecked the church’s sense of All Souls. As you probably now, the standard early 21st century protestant take is that everybody gets to be a saint. Yeah, I know there’s *some* theological basis for that…but where does it leave All Souls? If we’ve already celebrated all the baptized yesterday, who were we celebrating today? All the non-Christian dead? I mean–in one sense, yes, since we are celebrating literally all souls but… The way to recover it, as far as I can see, is to draw the line and say–look, yes, we’re all saints in one sense but in another sense some people really did do an exemplary job of showing forth the love of Christ in their lives. These people really should be held up as exemplars and as intercessors. Perhaps the problem is that we’ve lost the third section of the Church… Traditionally we spoke of the Church Militant (all of us living folks here on earth still slogging away), the Church Expectant (those who have died and are generally hanging around waiting for the resurrection), and the Church Triumphant (those souls who are already participating in the fullness of God and who are–even as you read this–interceding before the throne of God on behalf of us poor slobs).

Ok. Must do work. Oh, one more thing–for those of you who are interested, I posted something over at the other blog on singing the psalms. Enjoy…