When you think of Paul, what, or who, do you think of?
Some thoughts on various Pauls that need deconstructing, and what might go in the place:
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A Good Man is Hard to Find
Deep Hope
“I can’t write about the ending of the story, papa, because it doesn’t have an ending.”
My six-year-old was in the back seat, dutifully completing her reading log for school. But The Giving Tree had introduced an unexpected wrinkle into her plans.
“All the happy things happen at the beginning and the sad things happen at the end. So there’s no ending to the story and I can’t write about ‘the end.’”
There is something beautiful about her refusal to accept sadness as the end of the story. There is a sense of hope, a yearning for redemption and happiness, that defines for her what constitutes a true ending.
There is something profoundly right about that.
Until there are no more tears, the story is not over. We must hope deeply for the true ending to show itself, and refuse to write “the end” before it appears.
History, Theology, and Jesus
Today there was a wonderfully stimulating session in the Theological Interpretation of Christian Scripture group, as a panel of reviewers critically assessed and compared Darrell Bock and Robert Webb (eds.), Key Events in the Life of the Historical Jesus with Richard B. Hays and Beverly R. Gaventa (eds.), Seeking the Identity of Jesus: A Pilgrimage.
The conversation on the panel swirled around the questions of what it means to read the Bible as Christians; or, how to do greatest justice to the historical narratives contained in the gospels.
In this, I was much more sympathetic to the Hays and Gaventa volume. Their volume strives to cultivate reading strategies for the canonical gospels that witnesses to Jesus. The Bock and Webb volume strives to establish, and explain the coherence of, a dozen key moments in the life of the historical Jesus.
Bock and Webb, along with Michael Bird, spoke of historical Jesus research as a necessary prolegomenon to New Testament Christology and other such study.
No, I don’t think so.
The church has not canonized the historical Jesus, it has canonized four Gospels. We can cultivate a rich theology for the church based on these interpretations, without digging behind them to the “real Jesus” back there in history. In such a practice, inevitably we tell a new story, construct a fifth quite theologically conditioned Jesus of our own. Our fifth Gospel is not the “starting point” for studying the four.
But for all my wariness about the historical project as such, I am not ready to rush into the arms of some versions of an already theologized Jesus, either.
And here I come back (again!) to the challenges posed by those who think that we should be reading the Jesus stories toward Chalcedon. In a line that was quoted a couple of times, Rob Wall spoke of scripture as something along the lines of spirit sanctioned witnesses to Jesus as incarnate Christ. I’m butchering the first and beautiful part of the sentence, in which Wall draws us to give the four canonical gospels their rightful place as starting-point for our Jesus deliberations.
But in articulating that to which they witness in the terms of the divine christology of the later church, the bible has lost the place he seems to be claiming for it, and now Chalcedon has come to take its place.
And so I once again walk away appreciative of both history and theology, but wanting to reiterate what I see as a better theological method: not beginning with the history behind the text, nor beginning with the theology placed in front of the text to refract our vision, but beginning with the stories of Jesus themselves.
Resonate: Matthew (Ch. 11)
A week ago, a blog tour began winding its way through Matt Woodley’s Matthew commentary in the Resonate Series (IVP).
Other posts today are by Charity Singleton and Todd Hiestand.
This series strives to bring together “the biblical sense” with the “cultural significance” (p. 10). I take this to mean that its writers strive to bridge the horizons between an ancient meaning of the text and a contemporary significance. Like many new commentary series, it aims at use among practitioners, rather than providing accounts of the text from the perspective of would-be detached historians.
From my reading of ch. 11, and spot-checking elsewhere, the commentary makes good on its purpose to provide a Jesus who speaks to contemporary audiences.
The first section of the commentary on ch. 11 contrasts the prosperity gospel of health, wealth, and happiness with the story of John the Baptist. His spiritual career was skyrocketing until he hit rock bottom with imprisonment, loss of conviction about Jesus, and finally decapitation.
If John is any indication, life in the kingdom is not about seeing fortune and glory here and now. It is as much or more about crucifixion. But resurrection awaits for those who are faithful to the end.
In the second section, Woodley comments on Jesus as the one who welcomes the outcast, who blesses God for hiding the gospel from the wise and learned but revealing it to babes. Jesus’ words come with strong warning to his hearers. In what was, to me, the most compelling moment of insight in this section, Woodley writes:
He doesn’t warn those who need conversion; he warns those who think they already have it. (130)
The cross illustrates that God’s economy of salvation does not match the economy of the world.
As someone who engages books on both sides of the academic/popular divide, I found this commentary to be firmly situated on the latter. Had I not read the series preface, I would not have guessed that giving anything like a historical meaning, or explanation of Matthew’s Gospel as such, was a directive for the series.
It’s not that things aren’t spoken of as “what Jesus is saying to his contemporaries,” so much as the sorts of things Jesus says sound so much like contemporary evangelical theology. It leaves me with some concern that the overall commentary won’t leave folks with much of an understanding of why the story works, of why it makes sense that Jewish people were opposed to Jesus, of why, ultimately, they opposed Jesus to the point of death.
Having said this, however, the overall theological texture is commendable. Woodley is wrestling with the cross-shaped story of Jesus, and inviting readers to consider how it unmasks our mistaken presumptions about what it means to be the blessed people of God.
Can we say, in times of struggle, darkness, and hardship, “This isn’t what I signed up for”? Not so much: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God… Blessed are you when people persecute you…”
The story of Jesus, the story of the cross, is the story of the people of God: of John the baptist, of Jesus’ hometown, and of us.
I hereby inform you, the otherwise unsuspecting reader, that I was provided a copy of this book free of charge. By so informing you, I have fulfilled the requirements placed upon me by the Federal Government as one who grubs free stuff and reviews it on my blog. You must now determine if such privilege has poisoned my ability to objectively (or otherwise helpfully) report to you the product under review. ὁ ἀναγινώσκων νοείτω
Jesus Have I Loved excerpt
As the excitement builds over the impending release of Jesus Have I Loved, but Paul? from its Grand Rapids warehouse, I am pleased to be able to offer you a foretaste of good things to come.
If you navigate to the book’s website, http://JesusHaveILoved.com, you will not only be given a unique experience of sensory-overload that might very well compel you to mute the volume on your computer, you will also be able to download an excerpt that contains the introduction and ch. 3, “Christianity as Community.”
Simply go to JesusHaveILoved.com and click on the “Contents” page. There you will see the table of contents, and be able to download the sample chapters. Happy reading!
My Book Exists
I received word today that Jesus Have I Loved, but Paul? now exists in hard copy, happily passing the hours in the Baker warehouse.
You can rest assured that I will let you know with all due diligence once the book is shipping to and from your favorite bookseller.
I can only imagine what great news this is to all of you who are wondering what to buy your spouses, pastors, friends, siblings, and children for Christmas. Yes, my book will be available in plenty of time to serve as your go-to stocking-stuffer. Let the wild rumpus begin!
Homosexuality: Identity and Scripts
I’d like your help.
I’m involved in some discussions about homosexuality in the church, and we’re using Mark Yarhouse’s book, Homosexuality and the Christian as our jumping-off point. There are two ideas he puts forward that I would love some broader feedback on. 
First, Yarhouse issues a word of caution about quickly embracing the idea and language of gay identity.
Instead, he suggests we think about a three-tiered understanding (probably more like three points on a spectrum) of a person’s sexual predilections: (1) attraction; (2) orientation; and (3) identity.
The difference between 1 and 2 might be persistence over time or strength / prevalence of a given way of being attracted.
The third, “identity,” is something that has literally only become possible over the past century or so. To claim an identity based on sexuality is a relatively modern invention. People before wouldn’t have said, “I’m straight” or “I’m heterosexual” or “I’m homosexual.” Each is a sociological label that tends to carry with it a set of expectations of not only attractions but also practices.
And, since such an identifying label defines “who we are,” those attractions and practices tend to become normative. Living an integrated, healthy life is largely a matter of knowing who we are and acting in step with that.
Yarhouse suggests that avoiding the language of identity is important for giving people space to process how they will respond to attractions, and whether or not they will be in any sense defined or bound by them. Thus, someone might choose to say, “I am a Christian, and I am a Christian who is attracted to other men.”
This point dovetails nicely, it seems to me, with what Jenell Williams Paris wrote about in The End of Sexual Identity. We might do well to resist the notion that our sexuality defines who we are.
Do you think that such a separation is helpful?
The second place I’d like more discussion is on the idea of “scripts.” First, as we talk about scripts, it is important that we not look at these pejoratively. Each of us has an understanding of what it means to act out a part we have been given.
As a professor, I have a certain sense of what it means to faithfully teach or write or get mired in committee work that I perform based on my understanding of what script comes along with the role I’ve been assigned. Similarly, my understandings of what I do because I am husband or father.
Social setting and experience and myriad other factors come together to provide us with scripts. It’s part of life.
What Yarhouse contends in the book is that there is a powerful and compelling script for acting out the role of homosexuality on offer from the gay community, but that there is no compelling alternative coming from the Christian world–and this is a huge problem that we need to address.
Here is how Yarhouse sees the gay script (p. 49):
- same-sex attraction signals something natural (even God-given)
- same-sex attractions are the way you really are
- these attractions are at the core of who you are as a person
- same-sex behavior is an extension of that core
- self-actualization in such behavior is crucial for your fulfillment
In other words, the script communicates quite strongly that sexuality is at the core of our identity, and that living in accordance with, and in expression of, that sexual desire is how we live healthfully.
In contrast, Yarhouse outlines what a traditionalist Christian script might look like for someone experiencing sexual attraction (p. 51):
- same-sex attraction is but one of many distortions of nature that we all experience as part of life that is not the way it is supposed to be
- [same-sex] attractions are not the defining element of your identity
- you can choose to integrate same-sex attraction into a gay identity…
- … or, you can center your identity around other aspects of your experience
- the most compelling aspect of personhood for the Christian is one’s identity in Christ
I’m curious what you think.
Have we as Christians, both heterosexual and homosexual, bought in too much to the idea that our sexuality is at the core of our identity as persons? Do we all need to put sex on more of a back burner when it comes to who we truly are?
Also, is there a compelling, alternative Christian script–perhaps one that sits less like Yarhouse’s, as a counter-point to the homosexual script, that we should be promoting for everyone alike or for those who experience homosexual attraction in particular?
Bible Made Impossible: Final Reflections
Over the past couple of weeks I’ve been offering my engagements with Christian Smith’s The Bible Made Impossible: Why Biblicism Is Not a Truly Evangelical Reading of Scripture. 
You can find the first four installments here (pt 1), here (pt 2), here (pt 3), and here (pt 4).
My enthusiasm for Smith’s assessment and proposal continues in this final installment. He has put his finger on the problematic treatment of the Bible in evangelical circles, calling out the ways in which its understanding of scripture is insufficiently biblical, and insufficiently defined by the gospel.
Chapter 6, “Accepting Complexity and Ambiguity,” is bookended by two fantastic paragraphs that clearly articulate the problems with “evangelical biblicism”:
Ironcially, while biblicists claim to take the Bible with utmost seriousness for what it obviously teaches, their theory about the Bible drives them to try to make it something that it evidently is not. (127)
And then this:
The Anglican divine Richard Hooker put this well when he said about the Bible, “We must… take great heed, lest, in attributing unto scripture more than it can have, the incredibility of that do cause even those things which indeed it hath most abundantly, to be less reverently esteemed.” In other words, the more we try to make the Bible say allegedly important things that are in fact subsidiary, nonbinding, or perhaps not even clearly taught, the more we risk detracting form the crucial, central message of the Bible about God reconciling the world to himself in Jesus Christ. (148)
Biblicism, by insisting on the equality of every chapter and verse, creates a world in which everything we believe takes on equal significance. Deny the necessity of homeschooling and you’ve rejected the gospel. The importance of the Christological hermeneutic is that it allows back seat issues to stay in the back seat.
A final chapter from Smith works hard to articulate a third way between the conservative posture of biblicism and the strategies of liberalism or full-blown postmodernism. It is important for readers to appreciate that critical realism is, in fact, a true third way. No doubt it will be described as opening the back door for liberalism by many who hold to the position Smith wishes to advance. But that is plain wrong.
This final contribution is an accessible crash-course in hermeneutics and has the power to destabalize how we think about the Bible as an authoritative text. How do we, in fact, condemn slavery as morally reprehensible when the biblical writers seem so accepting of it? There are good reasons for our difference–and these are instructive for us when we think about what the Bible is and what we should be doing with it.
Smith’s book comes on the scene at an opportune time. As the evangelical right tightens its grip on evangelicalism more broadly, an tremendous number of believers are slipping through their fingers. Whether the conservative resurgence shows itself to be less-than-biblical because of a particular issue (e.g., the earth’s being 6,000 years old) or because of a holistic and yet inconsistent way of attempting to apply the Bible as an equally authoritative voice to all of life, those who leave biblicist worlds behind are reconfiguring what it means to confess that the Bible is the word of God.
So even though Smith will not doubt become another point at which the biblicist world points to encroaching liberalism and thereby solidifies anew its identity over against “them,” it also provides an invaluable tool to those who know that the biblicist Bible is, in fact, impossible–but who continue to believe that the Bible we have is, in fact, the word of God given to bear witness to the Word of God.
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