Mini-lesson in the context of John

I read John 9-12 yesterday, having some sense that it might constitute a mid-length section with significant context.  I didn’t have a strong overall sense of the preceding material in John 7 and 8, but I know what’s in chapter 13, and it just seemed that chapters 9 through 12 might make a good reading.  In an important sense, the entire text of John is a context.  In another sense, a paragraph (or passage of similar length) is a context, but chapters 9 through 12 seemed good for today.

In the course of chapter 9, I came across this question:

==>   “Where is he?”  (John 9:12a)

Now, one could go all sermony and take a roundabout, off-base excursion based on that verse, like so:

Church, we need to be asking that question!  Where is he?  Where is he?  Where is Jesus?

And is he here?  Well, yes he is.  He is so present for us, but if we don’t feel his presence, whose fault is it?  Has he left us, or have we left him?  Worse yet, have we lost our eyes to see him?

Jesus!  Jesus!  We’re calling out for you now?  Are you here?  Do you hear our cries, O Lord Jesus?

O taste and see that the Lord is good, said the Psalmist.  The songwriter said, “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord,” and his truth is marching on, you know, but if you aren’t standing in the path of the march, will you see, or will you have to ask where he is? 

Isaiah the prophet said, “Mine eyes have seen the King,” and Jesus is our King, but can we not see him or find him?  Find him indeed.  We must not be seeking . . . for the Lord said that those that seek will find.  Have you found Jesus?  Have you found the Lord?  If not, why not?  Today is the day of salvation for you.  You need to reach out and find the Lord, for as the apostle Paul told the Athenians, he is the one in whom we live and move and have our being.  If that’s the case, church . . . if we’re all having our being in him, how could we not reach out and find him?  Would we really have to ask the question “Where is he?” if we are existing in him, as he is in us, and is in the Father?  Where is the Father, and where is Jesus, if not in us? 

And all of that is refuse from a textual standpoint.  There are quite a few good intentions inhabiting such a gushing, composite mockery of a veritable horde of preachers and writers.  But there are just as many missteps with the text, context, and sermonizing.  The reference to Isaiah is a misstep, and it has nothing to do with the Psalm.  The sidestep to a sort of spiritual “finding” of Jesus today is a misstep.  Paul has nothing to do with John, and the Athenians have nothing to do with the the Jews (or “Judeans,” as N.T. Wright’s version has it¹).  Et cetera.  Now, back to the original context.

In the JohnGospel, who asked “where is he?”  And what was going on?

This was immediately after the man born blind had been healed.  The Jews had asked him to confirm his identity (after his parents had passed the buck in fear of being disfellowshipped).  The Jews asked the man how he had been healed (apparently not really believing it), and he told them, and then they didn’t say “Wow.  How great for you.  Praise God!”  On the contrary, they said “Where is he?”

In my view of this text, this question shows how far off track humans can get when they have something to protect—and minds and hearts that are not interested in being taught or shown anything.  They didn’t pause even to give glory to God, regardless of their belief or anti-belief in Jesus.  Rather, they just wanted to know where this supposed healer was, presumably so they could harass him.  And so they did.  Others were coming to belief—and indeed the reader sees pathway to belief throughout this gospel (e.g., the end of John 1, John 3, John 4, John 9, John 11, and other spots).  What’s notable here is the lack of belief among Jewish powers.  That they would ask “Where is he?” points up that this group is in a camp of non-belief.  They want to deal with the “infraction” of healing on the Sabbath rather than celebrating the miracle, the healer, and the healed one.

This is our Jesus:  one who healed, in the face of Jewish opposition.  One who identified himself to the formerly blind man (later in the chapter), and one who was flying in the face of the existing religious structures—to the point that the authorities were more interested in investigating this provocateur than in rejoicing in a miracle.

→  This brief post adds to what has been said above, and it also links to two other posts about John 9.

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¹ In our historical context, still less than 100 years after the Nazi holocaust, it is understandable that a thoughtful scholar such as N.T. Wright uses the term “Judeans” instead of “Jews” in his NT text of John 9.  In our time, given our obsession with semitism, anti-semitism, and anti-anti-semitism, who would want to be accused of downing today’s Jews as a race?  What the Nazis did has nothing directly to do with the Jews of the 1st century, but those people had what is now termed “Jewish” faith, and they were also living in Judea, so Wright opted for “Judeans,” presumably to avoid a connection with Hitler’s persecution of Jews nineteen hundred years later.

So, what to call the antagonists in John 9, in order to identify them properly?  It’s almost OK with me that the translation use the term “Judeans.”  I do fear, though, that a modern reader would tend to lose the connection to the Jewish faith-system in John 9.  It’s more than geography, in other words.  One wouldn’t say “Baghdadeans” and leave it there if one were discussing a spiritual/religious event in Iraq.  One would rather likely refer to the Shiites from Baghdad.  Similarly, referring to the antagonists people in John 9 as “Jews in Judea,” “Jewish power group,” or simply “Jews” (because the context shows they were in Judea) would seem just fine.

The CEV

You wouldn’t know it by the total time I’ve spent on it in the last month or two, but I believe thoroughly in giving attention to responsible reading and study of scriptures.  One morning, I had a few choices in front of me, and for once, I made a good choice:  I picked up a Bible.

I chose a hardbound copy of the Contemporary English Version—which I thought, based on the stamp inside, had once been in the library of my grandfather.  As it turns out, the particular Andy Ritchie who owned this would have to have been my uncle, since the publication was after my grandfather’s death.  The two libraries must have gotten mixed at some point after my uncle moved into my grandparents’ house.   (Both Andys are now in the land of the eternally living.)

This copy of the CEV doesn’t appear to have been used much, and I knew next to nothing about the version, so I looked a few things up.  Apparently there is a perceived link with the Good News Bible (GNT), and the CEV is understood to have been produced for a lower reading level, incorporating these translation principles:

• must be understood by people without stumbling in speech
• must be understood by those with little or no comprehension of “Bible” language, and
• must be understood by all

It would appear, then, that the “understandable” quality of the version was the guiding principle.  OK, good.  If a version can’t be understood, it’s not doing its job, right?  But there is more to it than that.  For years, when picking up a new version, I have been going to Romans 12 to see how the first two verses are rendered.  In my opinion, the CEV does a fine job of verse 1:

12 Dear friends, God is good. So I beg you to offer your bodies to him as a living sacrifice, pure and pleasing. That’s the most sensible way to serve God.

“Sensible” and “serve,” in my somewhat studied estimation, are proper, understandable translations of λογικὴν | logiken and λατρείαν | latreian.  Overall, this rendering rises above most other English translations.  On the other hand, the CEV does perhaps the worst job I’ve seen with Philemon 6:

⁶ As you share your faith with others, I pray they may come to know all the blessings Christ has given us.

The phrase “share your faith” throws the reader off, obscuring a more contextually aware understanding of the word koinonia, which rarely has anything to do with communicating words.  “Sharing” here is not about speaking evangelistically. Neither is “all the blessings” on point in this case.  The word behind “blessing” is singular.  Moreover, an important, verbal connection exists within this latter that appears to be ignored by the general, vague expression “all the blessings Christ has given us.”

A thorough reading of a fuller context will almost always lead to better interpretation.  Still, it is good to note that almost any Bible is better than no Bible at all, and when one reads more than one verse and gets a sense of the whole, he or she will emerge with something of value.

– B. Casey, 5/14/22 – 5/19/22

Metaphorically speaking: hiking, inkblotting, and listening attentively

In writing this brief post about CAD (Context Attention Disorder), I returned to familiar theme:  the contextual treatment of our scriptures.  Yet there is more than context to be considered.  The piece that follows here deals with attentive listening in “conversation,” and I’m afraid it meanders too much. It’s undergone much editing, and I’m not sure it’s improved enough yet, but here goes!

Pretty much every time I’m in a church gathering, I have cause to think about responsible, contextual reading and interpretation of scriptural texts.  Typically, it’s not so much full consideration as a passing, disappointed thought that makes me wish the speaker had done his homework.

Metaphorically considering ourselves hikers, could we imagine coming through a clearing and finding a trailhead where this sign stands?Looks daunting!  What to do?  No turning around.  This is why we’re here—to hike this scripture-reading trail!  So we take a few steps into the wooded area just past the trailhead . . . and we are reminded that, in a real sense, Bible reading and interpretation are all about listening attentively while hiking the sometimes-rugged trail. How will we surmount the challenges of this trail?  How will we walk and listen along the way?

As Greg Fay has put it, we need to stop “interrupting God.”  Another chief metaphor for Fay is the “infection” that results when Rorschack-like inkblots constitute our mode of looking at the scriptures.  Each little “verse” can actually become an isolated thing that has an imagined shape and identity of its own!  But there is another way.

          The treatment for inkblotitis is to quit turning verses into inkblots and learn to read them in their book-level contexts.  More broadly:  to read the books of the Bible as books—as connected pieces of various types of literature.  The treatment is to quit using the Bible as if it were a pile of disconnected sayings or aphorisms or proverbs or prophecies or analogies or . . . spiritual fortune cookies.  . . . to sit down with God and listen as he spoke with and to us.  . . . to stop interrupting him when he’s speaking . . . . – Greg Fay, PhD, “The Treatment,” in Inkblotitis Book 2, Rediscovering the Books of God, p. 10

Many careless readers think or even say, “This ‘verse’ means _____  to me.”  Isolating a “verse,” they interrupt God’s “flow,” ripping the verbal thing from its context, considering it while it dangles there, all alone, begging to be reattached to its source.  The verse or phrase might sound cool all by itself, but it wasn’t intended to be isolated.  It doesn’t stand alone!  Snippets of scriptural material start to mean unintended things when they are extracted from their contexts.  They seem take on their own “shapes,” but such non-contextual reading can be as fanciful as thinking a cloud or a Rorschach blot is actually a Poodle or a porpoise or a Porsche.

It’s here that we may draw a line to human conversational styles and habits.  In some instances, conversation seems natural, with a pleasant sort of give-and-take and a reasonable number of interruptions that show mutual attentiveness.  In other cases, the interruptions seem to exhibit thoughtlessness or carelessness, rudeness, and even conversational disease.  Personally, I struggle with conversation at times.  When I’m devotedly talking with someone, I want to show my attention, but I don’t always succeed.  My eyes dart, or my body language shows that I’m otherwise engaged or distracted.  When I work hard at paying good attention, I worry, too, that even that effort comes off poorly.  Conversation can be difficult, but it can also be rewarding.

Do you have a friend with whom conversations seem to flow effortlessly, and who listens as well to you as you try to listen to him/her?  Do you enjoy richly shared understandings and entwined spirits?  Special friends are blessings.  I don’t think I’ve ever had a “soul mate,” but someone I knew two decades ago referred to a friend of hers in just that way.  I suspected at the time that “soul mate” meant, in that case, that two women took evening walks together and bemoaned certain things about, e.g., their husbands and their jobs and the church.  I say that because one of those women’s answer to a serious problem was, and I quote, “I’m always at the ready for dinner and a movie.”  Really?  If soulful, connected conversation is summarized by food and a flick—or, in the case of the stereotypical male, by staring into a clearing with a buddy in a deer stand—I’m neither impressed nor drawn in.  Maybe my standards are too high.

At least in my world, most days, deep, extended conversation is elusive.  There are light-or-compulsory greetings, brief interchanges, etc., but little interaction seems to rise to the level of conversation.  One of the factors that seems to be degrading human conversation is “social media.”  On this point, hear Gary Collier:

There is little doubt that what passes as “social media” today is more often anti-social.  Short quips pass for genuine interaction, and the art of conversation dies a little more every day.  When we are genuinely interested in other people, and they in us, there is a give and take that blooms and thrives, color ablaze, in a context of patient time and of attentive listening.  – Gary D. Collier, PhD, “Conversations with God,” via Biblical Conversation Blog, accessed 3/26/22

When truly attentive conversation does actually occur, it is like air in the lungs.  Any substantive, meaningful interaction can be salve for the soul.  Collier’s ultimate thrust, though, was to spotlight conversational Bible reading:

“The more I read the scriptures conversationally, the more my conversational praying will be enhanced, filled, and energized.  And vice versa.”

I fully support the emphasis there.  Conversation as attentive give-and-take might be an apt phrase, too.  Yet my own practices fall far short of my desires—in conversations with humans who live in skin like I do, and also in conversations with God.  Listening attentively may just be the key to “success” in both areas.  Whether I’m walking on a trail while praying, reading scriptural texts with a sense of dialogue and attentive conversation, or just navigating the complexities of day-to-day life and human conversation, I ought to listen.  Really listen, without interrupting.

Priscilla & Aquila: when and where?

Sometimes I write in order to process thoughts.  Spoiler alert:  my current answer to a question I’m pondering is “we don’t know.”

In the process of reading and considering the account of Corinth in Acts 18, someone raised this question:  Were Priscilla and Aquila already Christians, or possibly still Jews, when Paul met them in Corinth?   I thought about it a little more, and I think it’s a good question, so I have a few thoughts about it.  But first, the text:

After this, he left Athens and went to Corinth, where he found a Jewish man named Aquila, a native of Pontus, who had recently come from Italy with his wife Priscilla because Claudius had ordered all the Jews to leave Rome. Paul came to them, and being of the same occupation, stayed with them and worked, for they were tentmakers by trade.  He reasoned in the synagogue every Sabbath and tried to persuade both Jews and Greeks. (Acts 18:1-4, HCSB)

So, we have Paul arriving in Corinth, a major city, where the duo, Aquila and Priscilla, had already set up shop.

The expulsion of the Jews from Rome by the emperor is mentioned.

Aquila is identified text as a Jew.

Priscilla is not identified as a Jew, but it would be reasonable to assume she was also, at that point, and in at least the ethnic-heritage sense.  On the other hand, it has been noted that, later in Acts 18, as well as in Rom 16:3 and in 2Tim 4, her name appears first, and she might have been more articulate and/or more advanced in Christian faith.  It’s therefore easy for me to imagine that, in Corinth, she was ahead of her husband faith-wise.

Were both Aquila and Priscilla Jewish by faith when Paul met them, or were they already Christian?

Could Prisca/Priscilla (the latter form is diminutive, nicknamey) have been moving in/toward Christian faith while still in Rome, with Aquila lagging behind?

Could Paul have easily latched onto this pair (with whom he shared a trade learned while he was a Jew) while they were both yet Jewish in faith?

Now, for some context.  I wondered whether the Acts text hints one way or the other.  I perceive these items highlighting the Jewish faith in Acts 18:

• mention of the Jews’ having left Rome
• focus on the synagogue and its leaders

In addition, the occurrences in Ephesus—immediately subsequent in Acts, and the first, involving these same two people—involve not one, but two spotlights on “partial knowledge.”  Partial knowledge is just what a Jew-before-faith-in-Jesus has, so perhaps there is a contextual hint there that Priscilla and Aquila had partial faith as Paul (and we) meet them, too.

This larger scriptural context may or may not shed much light on the early days in Corinth, but it does make me muse a little . . . maybe ol’ Aquila, at least, wasn’t fully Christian until after Paul had been in Corinth a few months (see 18:11).  Or maybe both of them weren’t full-believers yet.  With hindsight, and with observations of historical progressions and patterns based on other sources, we might develop an opinion one way or the other.  Luke’s first audiences probably would not have been able to do that.

Both historical and textual sources leave me wondering.  The answer is probably a flat “We don’t know when A & P became Christian.”  Now, the next question is “Does this matter, and if so, why?”

I think it matters because
Investigative questions like this are interesting.  Personally, I both need and want this kind of stimulation.  Many others of you are also interested in this kind of thing, I know.  It could very well be that this matter has already been well researched via historiographical, archaeological, and textual data, and my “answer” herein may be proven lacking.  Although I am attempting to bring exegetically based reasoning to bear here, I know virtually nothing of archaeology, and I haven’t even thoroughly considered the little I do know of early Christian history in the 40s and 50s.  Most of what I’ve written above is speculative and perhaps not much more than “interesting.”

But it also matters because
One of the pervasive themes of Acts is the spread of the Christian message outward from Jerusalem and Jews, showing The Way’s progression from being a Jewish-originated sect to being a world-altering faith-group.  Maybe the stories of Aquila and Priscilla—and Apollos, too—serve as part of the larger picture of motion from Jew to Greek, and from Jews who didn’t believe in Jesus as Messiah to some (e.g., Crispus the synagogue-presider, 18:8), who came to believe in Him.

Questions like this matter because it causes us to come face to face with the chronological and geographical realities that shaped the early Christian movement.

B. Casey, 1/7/16

Inkblots from Philippians

The following verses or partial verses from Philippians have in my experience been used in isolation from their literary context(s).  There are many of these “offenders” in Philippians!  The ones in bold are those I think could stand as “poster children” for the disease of “inkblotitis” (Dr. Greg Fay’s term).

Although I rarely use the NIV on this blog, its largely familiar wordings will serve illustratively here.  As you scan these, please consider how easy it is to think you understand of what they “mean” apart from the surrounding thoughts in their full context.

Chapter 1

³ I thank my God every time I remember you.

^18b  The important thing is that . . . Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice.

²¹ For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.

²⁷ Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ. Then, whether I come and see you or only hear about you in my absence, I will know that you stand firm in the one Spirit, striving together as one for the faith of the gospel.[1]

Chapter 2

³ Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, 4 not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.  ⁵ In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: [2]

^12b  continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, ¹³ for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose. [3]

¹⁴ Do everything without grumbling or arguing, [4]

^17a But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering . . . [5]

Chapter 3

⁷ But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. ⁸ What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things.

¹⁰ I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, ¹¹ and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead.

^12b-14  I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. . . . ¹⁴ I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

^18-19  For, as I have often told you before and now tell you again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. ¹⁹ Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is set on earthly things.

²⁰ But our citizenship is in heaven. [6]

Chapter 4

^2b  be of the same mind in the Lord.

⁴ Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!

⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷ And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. [7]

⁸ Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

¹³ I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

¹⁹ And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.

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[1] 1:27 may be a “verse” that, when ripped from its context, hasn’t actually strayed too far from its original import in its current-day application.

[2] Here, I am passing over the famed 2:6-11 passage, although it, too, is frequently understood outside its Philippians context.  This text is considered by most scholars to be some type of ancient ode or hymn (whether originally sung or not, whether original with Paul or not) text.  Its exalted poetry is legendary, and it stands on its own to some extent, although it is imbued with additional/different meaning when seen within the contextual shape of Philippians.

[3] Here’s an exceptionally convicting bit of non-exegetical, personal history:  I once spoke a message—translated on the spot into another language, even—that forced a separate theology onto this passage, ignoring its own context altogether. The theology I was “pushing” was a good one, I’m convinced, but nonetheless was a theology unrelated to this particular context.

[4] Oh, the numbers of parents who have quoted this one to their grumbling children!

[5] I know a song, “Would You Be Poured Out Like Wine,” that came from this, but the rest of its words had nothing directly to do with Philippians, insofar as I can remember.  Now that I think about it, the song might have mixed two contexts, since it used the specific word “wine,” which is not used here.  Perhaps a little latitude for the songwriter who knew that the word “drink” doesn’t sing all that well?  Or perhaps the songwriter was leaning on historical rather than literary context (I’m not at all sure), understanding that wine was what was used in the “poured drink offering”?

[6] True confession:  I quasi-intentionally take this one out of context myself, and probably will continue to do so.  Although recognizing that these words find their most valid illumination within the context of Philippians, I feel that they succinctly state an important concept that all Christians would do well to take in.

[7] It might not do much harm to take this one out of context.  In suggesting that, I would lean a little on the “anything” and “every” language:  perhaps this is duly taken as more broadly applicable.  Yet its original meaning is to be found within the context of the letter to the Philippians.

Important city, important words

The letter to the Philippians—presumably written by Paul (and Timothy), some time within a couple years of 60CE, to Christians in the ancient city of Philippi, which was an important city in the Roman world.  It seems clear that Paul had a close relationship with the people in this church.  Not everything was perfect (it never is), but I’d have to say that Paul had had a special, generally very positive experience with these believers, leading to high expectations of their spirits and their actions.

I haven’t paid much recent attention to this gemstone in the bracelet of NT letters.  I suppose the last time I studied it, I wasn’t really studying it, if you know what I mean.  What that admission means to me is that, more than a decade ago, I was much more typical in my knowledge and application of “study” methodologies.  Those methods led to familiarity—but very little else that was valuable.  I was also much more accepting of . . .

φ  perfunctory readings that failed to take historical and literary contexts into consideration

φ  surface-level “word studies” based on English tools

φ  jumped-to conclusions

. . . and other results of dubious “study” methods that I now reject out of hand.

Despite previous personal ineptitudes (and many remain to this day), there was at least one general conclusion I reached years ago about this letter that I believe was quite “ept”:  that “verses”¹ within this letter must be read in the context of the whole.  To point up this concern, in the next post about Philippians, I will share some “verses”¹ that tend to be lifted out of their contexts (both macro [book-level] and micro) and invite you to consider how you, too, might have erroneously developed an understanding of what certain Philippians words “mean” apart from the surrounding thoughts.

Given a couple of long-term opportunities coming in early 2016, I expect that my insight into Philippians specifics is about to start down a road of significant enhancement.  For today, I merely want to say this, transparently:  I have been struggling in recent days with two other (unrelated) essays intended for this blog.  For different reasons, I am questioning their content and have been delaying in finalizing and posting them.

Rather than deal with those essays further, I thought it was far better that I spend some time reading Philippians today.  So I did just that.  I read the entire letter aloud in the New English Bible.  At this point, no background info, no Greek, no textual criticism or consideration of textual variants, and no word studies or discourse analysis, and no commentaries.  Just the letter, read as a whole.  I am better for having taken in these important words.

Sola scriptura
B. Casey (12/27/15)

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¹ I put “verses” in scare-quotes not only because the verse numbering is not original.  More important:  seeing Bible texts as “verses” can detract from the flow of a text by visually delineating things not meant to be delineated.  After all, I’m focusing on contextual flow here, and verses inhibit the reader’s sense of context.  It is a far better thing to consider texts in larger blocks—blocks based on contextual reading and intratextual clues.

Reprise: quality in study methodology (2 of 2)

A recent post on “quality” and “better methods” prompted a thoughtful challenge.  Here, I responded in general terms about the nature of, and impulses behind, contextually aware, high-quality (for me) Bible study.  Today I want to spend some time with specific commentary on the Rick Warren methods.

There are other things
I first want to acknowledge that activities other than Bible study are important and can result in growth, better feelings, and other positives.  Some of these other thoughts and experiences have great value.  I haven’t dealt, for instance, with prayer, worship, or mutually accountable “discipling” relationships.  Here, I intend only to be addressing Bible study methods—and those, only in summary fashion.

Yet a text orientation is crucial
To “live out faith capably” is a wonderful aim, and I appreciate that crystallization.  My position is that rationally based standards must exist as we try to hone in on the role Bible study plays in the living out of faith.

The best standards and methods I’ve seen lean heavily on literary context and historical context (in that order).  I suppose that, in using the expression “the best . . . I’ve seen,” I am again putting myself in the position of one who can judge what is better than something else.  In this case, I’ll own that with only a tiny bit of embarrassment.  It appears self-evident to me—and I doubt seriously that anyone reading this far will disagree in concept—that a) contextually aware study is inherently better than b) study that moves easily and non-judiciously in and among various documents, bodies of texts (e.g., the entire Bible) and theologies.  Sadly, most Bible studies seem to head in the (b) direction, whereas the practice ought to be brought into alignment with the conceptual, mental assent.

Premise:  Any “study method” that doesn’t at least attempt to base its substance and conclusions in one textual document isn’t as viable as one that does.

It bears stating here that the Bible is a library, not a single book per se.  No matter the particular vantage point re:  “inspiration,”¹ it must be acknowledged that the Bible is a collection of documents, not a single document.  It follows that “context” must properly be thought of as residing in the particular book/document one is studying, not the collection called “Bible.”

With the above premise in view, although not confining myself to it, I’d like to address some of . . .

Rick Warren’s Bible Study Methods

1. The Devotional Method
2. The Chapter Summary Method
3. The Character Quality Method
4. The Thematic Method
5. The Biographical Method
6. The Topical Method
7. The Word Study Method
8. The Book Background Method
9. The Book Survey Method
10. The Chapter Analysis Method
11. The Book Synthesis Method
12. The Verse-by-Verse Analysis Method

Based on general experience with Christianese and with many public teachers through the years, I could have pretty safely claimed that #1 and #6 are not really “Bible study” methods at all.  After skimming a bit, I stand on that presumption.

I didn’t know exactly what #3 and #4 referred to, but they were questionable, so I looked them up. . . .

#3 (“character quality”) turns out not to be a study method per se.  Rather, it majors in devotion and “personal application” as does #1.  While this might provide intriguing and valid insights, here’s a guiding truism:  we all need more thorough, contextual study before jumping in to “apply” our “take-aways.”

Neither is #4 (thematic) viable as a “study method”—not for anyone with less experience than I have, anyway.  I wouldn’t trust myself with it very often at all.  It jumps around in different texts, and that is always dangerous.  Any purported method that makes application prior to coming to a solid understanding of a discrete text is likely very well intentioned and may well lead to benefit, but such constitutes a thematic or theological thought train, not Bible study, and the resulting applications might turn out to be less than valid.

I would assert that several of the 12 “methods” should not be viewed as stand-alone methods but instead should be considered and employed together.  When combined, they could in fact constitute a holistic, relatively effective, viable Bible study methodology.

#10 (chapter analysis) appears pretty good to me, and if I were ever “forced” (not that that would or could happen in my case!) to use Warren’s book, I might point to #10 as a basis, complimenting it with material from many of the other methods and being careful not to allow chapter divisions always to determine the limits of a section.

Method #s 8 (book background, including archaeology, geology, history, and culture) and 12 (verse-by-verse, observations, personal paraphrase) could well supplement #10, as long as the cross-reference part of the latter is either ignored or used extremely carefully.

#4 (“themes” in scripture) starts with the investigative “friends” who, what, where, when, why, and how . . . but it goes awry when it shows a wide-open field for investigation.  Step #1 is “choose a theme.”  Step #2 is “list all the verses you want to study.”  (And here, my wife is cringing, when I read the draft of this post aloud to her!)  The “personal application” a few steps down the road will be compromised if the student has not limited his study to a theme in a specific document or smaller context.  #5 (biographical) approaches the investigation of a Bible character similarly, but I find this method more likely than #4 to bear good fruit, insofar as it goes—namely, because the student will likely be dwelling in single texts for longer periods of time as s/he tries to glean insights into a Bible character.

#9 (book survey) and #11 (book synthesis) have good merits and probably ought to be combined.  Comprehension of the book-level context is oh-so-significant, and perhaps especially so when the book/document is possible to read in one sitting and/or isn’t composed of multiple, major sections that potentially complicate the literary aspect of the whole.

In my case, method #2 (chapter summary) was the one being used in a small group.  This method is rather insidious:  it combines a few generally good ideals (contents, caption, crucial words, challenges, and central lesson) with some horrible ones (“cross references” and “Christ seen”), leading to a false sense of security.

My recent experience (and this was to an extent a function of the leader’s choice) of #2 was more or less confined to one aspect of that method—a sub-method that produced marginal results.  When a “Bible study” ends up consisting in people going around the room saying, “Well, I liked the word _______” because the word seemed like a crucial word, or because they just wanted to be different from the last person, I twitch.  Every other person might turn out to be onto something noteworthy, but students must recognize the inherent credibility of a source (human or otherwise) with real knowledge of the text.  The ensuing discussion must be shaped knowledgeably, rather than a scene in which everyone gloms on amicably to all comments as though they have equal value.

In Bible study, a democratic paradigm isn’t always best.  Neither is a monarchy, yet those who have some capabilities of digging into the text and interpreting based on sound exegetical principles ought to be given credence and opportunity.  Those with mere opinions deserve to be heard—with the aim of across-the-board senses of value and belonging . . . but often, their opinions, views, and take-aways need shaping and honing, so they will ultimately line up with what may actually be read—when one is reading contextually, that is—in the texts.

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Personal note to Steve:  I deeply appreciate your challenge and your asking for more thoughts.  (And more thoughts you have received!)   My two-part response surely seems even stronger than the original post, but I have at least intended to acknowledge some value in methods I don’t personally gravitate to.  In all this, I have actually been assuming that you and I would see about 80-90% of this eye to eye, but I could be wrong.  I have written mostly for the sake of clarifying my own thoughts and scruples, and more, for less experienced readers.

How about this—I’ll give you the last word if you want to respond with another comment.  Rebuttal is totally OK.  Or, if you want to write a guest post, I’m all ears.  I suppose I might respond briefly, for the record, if in fact it turns out that I disagree much, but I promise not to argue specific points further!

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¹ Statements about scripture that use the word “inerrancy” are suspect.  Some folks that claim to believe in “inerrancy” haven’t thought or studied enough to be using the word, and others seem merely to have had the wool pulled over their eyes by past dogmatics.  Views of inspiration that claim what the ancient documents claim (and no more) turn out to be “higher” views than some traditional, dogmatic views based on wispy notions of inerrancy.

Reprise: quality in study methodology (1 of 2)

A recent post on “quality” and “better methods” prompted a thoughtful challenge from a regular reader.  Generally, I took the interlocution as probing my assessment of Bible study methods:  “Who sets the standard for ‘better’?”  Specifically,¹ Rick Warren’s published methods (which I’d identified as being of uneven quality) were mentioned, and I’ll deal with those more in the next post.

My post on 10/14 was not one of my “better” (ha) ones, and I was probably scapegoating, to some extent.  (Maybe I’d do “better” to bemoan the lack of quality in other areas:  conductor selection processes, auto insurance departments’ lack of communication with each other, fast food touch-screen programming, etc.)  Quality and substance are always of concern to me, not just in Christian arenas.

I’m not prepared to ease up much on—much less to retract—the basic call for utilizing the best known methods in Bible study.  In the spirit of discussion, I’m setting out here to identify what I see as the hows and whats and whys (the whos aren’t the issue) of quality in Bible study.

What’s paramount?
One problem with most Bible Study “methods” and practices is that they simply don’t expend energy on context.  In the “general church folks” milieu, not taking textual scholarship into consideration is probably secondary, but it is also significant.  I believe these two items are of paramount importance.  Methods that do not scratch the surface of either 1) context or 2) responsible scholarship are inherently of lesser quality.

In giving Warren’s list of study methods a once-over, I thought the dozen was neatly and readily marketed, but only 1/3 to 1/2 seemed to have authentic merit.  One evening, I was in a group that used one of Warren’s methods—one of his better ones (or so I’d thought)—but the discussion ended up majoring heavily in vague, nearly baseless opinions, teased out by the question “Which word stood out to you in this chapter?”

• One strong pro:  several people in the group seemed to have read the whole chapter at least once, in preparation (!).  They actually had ready answers to the above question!  Wow!
• A few cons: 1) book-level context was ignored; 2) the range of meaning of the original-language word was not on the table; 3) the situation into which the letter had been directed was presumed impertinent by default (not by direct statement); and 4) no textual structuring within the document was considered.

May people’s faith be stimulated by activities that don’t have biblical text as their basis?  Of course, yes.  On the other hand, if it walks like a cat, it’s not a duck.  If it’s more devotion- or inspirational theme-based, it’s probably not be Bible study per se.  Such motivations for living Christianly may be great, and I’d accept that they can be God-originated.  More often, I observe that they are synthetic, and I’d suggest that apparent “spiritual growth hormones,” synthesized by humans, are not organically grown out of the text.  They can produce artificial results.  Such insights might well be valuable, but why call them “Bible study”?

Some may not be “into” responsible, contextual handling of Biblical texts
In his response to the earlier post, my esteemed interlocutor speculated on the needs of young believers, as well as women’s take on things.  He would never have been attempting to paint an entire gender pink, but I took it that he was (rightly) saying, “Not everyone’s like you, Brian.”  Another relatively academic friend’s wife, the guy says, isn’t interested in anything that seems “academic,” and more women may indeed feel that way than men.  To the extent that it’s a women thing, it may be because of bad male behavior—blustering through dogma and other junk under the macho guise of scholarship, rather than purveying genuine academic insights.

Personally, I’m glad my wife is more into context than in typical “let go and let God” fluff or jumping around through different biblical books to find bits about love, joy, peace, faith, and goodness.  I do not judge the hearts of the women or men who are inspired and spurred on to good by such things, but I am not myself drawn by non-contextual study, and I do think there are more viable, more valid ways of going about edification, to boot.

I’m happy to report that quite a few other insightful women with whom I’ve had the privilege of studying would also prefer to be honest and responsible with one text on its own.  I’m sure it’s the same just about anywhere, although we also know some others (women and men) who reject anything that seems academic to the slightest degree.

As for new believers, there is certainly a need for good study methods appropriate for baby Christians.  What is not OK is using bad methods that lead to invalid conclusions that in turn lead to shallow Churchians.  The alternative is good methods—methods that help to produce lifelong learner-disciples who over the years come to understand more and more of how history and ancient texts inform authentic faith.

Next:  Rick Warren’s methods

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¹  Caveat lector:  I had originally also called out Joel Osteen’s fluff, and that stuff deserves no more comment—not while discussing Bible study, at least.  Arguably, the Gospel Advocate (a sectarian publication) does major in Bible study, but its tenor has in much of the past been more geared to watch-dogging and propping up denominational tenets than to digging into texts without prejudice.  On this my friend Steve and I agree.  One thing further here:  I shouldn’t have named the Beth Moore material, not having had any personal experience with it.  I imagine it is some of the better devotion-based material out there, and I presume it gets into real Bible exegesis at least some.  My wife, having had two experiences with Beth Moore material, has now supported my impression in general terms.

About literary context (3)

A horrible illustration we mustn’t forget
Perhaps the most infamous illustration of the violence that can be done by taking words out of their context is the stringing together of these two Bible “verses”:

Judas went out and hanged himself.

Go thou and do likewise.

We all “get” that context is important.

Bible verses don’t just “mean” something outside their contexts.

But what do most of us ever do about context, aside from paying lip service to the general idea?  Do we actually pursue the framework for understanding that contexts alone provide?

We laugh at the very idea of imitating Judas, and then we move on, so often glibly unaware of literary context.

What two scholar-friends have written (putting flesh on the bones of “context”)
Gary Collier has cogently asserted the primacy of literary context over historical and other contexts:

However important historical research is (and I think “very”), it is always incomplete.  How could we possibly uncover or rightly understand everything there is to know about something in the distant past and in some distant place?  At best, historical background is always incomplete.  It is a mistake to think that any supposed “historical background” that we think we know is a full picture.  It is easy to force something onto a text and thereby change its meaning.¹

And in another place, Gary has said,

The literary context is always the first and most important consideration in reading any text.¹

Further on the necessity of paying attention to the “book-level” literary context in order to hear God’s “voice,” Greg Fay has offered this:

Sometimes, when people talk about the context, they are referring to a chapter or to a paragraph, a set of verses before and after a particu­lar verse.  This is not what I mean by “literary context.”  I’m talking about the book as a whole—the over­all, big-picture of the book as a whole.  Of course, there are smaller paragraph- or chap­ter-level con­texts, and reading a verse in context certainly means seeing it as an inte­grated part of that context—its immediate context.  Any intelligent reading requires that; otherwise, you don’t really have com­muni­ca­tion at all, just words or even letters, if we take the logic far enough.

The literary con­text of a verse certainly includes its imme­diate context, if we want to understand it properly.  But—if I may be elementary for a moment—a letter is connected to other letters to make a word.  Words are connected to other words to make sentences.  Sentences    . . . to sentences—to form paragraphs.  Para­graphs . . . to paragraphs—to make a letter, or an essay, or a book.  Breaking apart any of those connec­tions risks the ability of the context to control the meaning.  

So, yes, the literary context includes the immediate context of a sentence or verse, but it also includes the rest of the book.  That’s the heart of what I’m trying to say.  Separating the verses or paragraphs—the immediate con­texts—into individual pictures is the start of inkblotitis.  (Think shat­tered mosaic.)  What we want to do is learn to see how the immediate contexts fit together as smaller, but integrated pictures into the land­scape view of the book as a whole.²

Speaking personally now . . .
I can’t adequately summarize or crystallize the things I’ve learned in recent years about biblical interpretation.  Although Greg and Gary are more than equal to this task, I’m not equal to the task of setting forth a hermeneutical hierarchy or prioritizing principles used in interpretation.

I can tell you this one thing, though:  terms and phrases and paragraphs are infinitely more meaningful when considered in their book-level contexts.  When we pay attention to those contexts, we hear God better.

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¹ Dr. Gary D. Collier, private group e-mail, used by permission.  coffeewithpaul.com

² Dr. Gregory L. Fay, Inkblotitis:  Christianity’s Dangerous Disease, Book 2: Rediscovering the Books of God (2013).  http://inkblotitis.wordpress.com/inkblotitis/

 

About words (2)

Words are obviously important when we seek to understand written language.  Consider this passage as an illustration of what could happen when we are called on to interpret the words of scripture.

What does the word “score” mean?  And what does it mean “to score”?  The meaning depends, doesn’t it?  How many ways are there “to score”?  Scoring in football is completely dif­ferent than scoring in—say—ping pong. . . .  There are multiple ways to score in American football, but not in baseball (the only way is to have a base runner touch home plate).  Every sport is different.  On the other hand, if a high school teenager were asked if he “scored” after an evening out with the prom queen, the picture is quite different.  And—to continue the rela­tional (or should I say sexual) image—a young Don Juan might scratch a mark into the side of the bed­post or headboard to keep tally of his conquests.  Teachers give us scores on tests; musicians compose scores. Sometimes, the word refers to a degree of indebtedness (what you owe me), and I just might “even the score.”  Do you remem­ber that a “score” can refer to a group of 20—”Four score and seven years ago . . .”  How about a groove cut in wood for a rope, or a crease or perforation so you can fold or tear a piece of paper?  It can refer to the state or facts of the present situa­tion, or a suc­cessful robbery or drug deal.  And there’s more. By itself the word is pregnant with poten­tial meanings, but we don’t know the specific length, weight, health, even the sex of the child to be born.

Bottom line:  you have to have more context to know what’s really intended.

– Greg L. Fay (adapted)

There’s no doubt about it:  interpretation happens.  It happens when Bible versions are produced; it happens when commentators write and when preachers preach; and it happens when you and I read our Bibles.

I would say that the following items are part of well-founded interpretation:

• Awareness of the “range of meaning” of a word
• Ability to define that word through understanding of its literary context

(To be continued . . . )

About words and contexts (1)

I assume that all of us who study the Bible have a few things in common—including reverent love of God and respect for the written words that constitute our Bibles.  Most of us have grown up in churches that would not shy away from being labeled “People of the Book.”

Moreover, almost everyone would get the multiple-choice question about “context” correct on an exam.  We all do understand, on some level, that context is important; we could affirm its importance without a second thought.

But what do we mean when we agree that context is important, and what do we do about it?

Through the years, when studying biblical documents, it has become increasingly clear that some important concepts seem to be ignored in most Christian circles.  One is the question of the genre, or type of document/book, such as historical narrative, letter, poetry, etc.

Another concept that is often apparently overlooked with regard to letters (and certain other documents) is their occasional or situational nature.  By “occasional” I do not mean to imply any casual manner or approach.  Far from it!  I mean that there was a specific situation, or set of situations, that led to the occasion of writing the letter.

I do take (most of) the biblical writings as God-directed (in some way), and the writers as God-inspired (a factor that is also beyond explanation).  These assumptions are baselines for most of us.

On the heels of the belief that God has been involved in the production of what we call “scripture,” though, must come a principle:  that understanding the meaning of an ancient document in its original context comes first, prior to attempting to apply that meaning to the current day.  That context includes both the historical situation in which the document was written and the self-contained literary context of the document itself.

(To be continued . . . )

John 12:32, as Rorschached

Although I continue to be inspired by the pages I’m scanning of the Sweet/Viola book Jesus Manifesto, I do find periodic non sequiturs and unjustified assumptions.  For example, their introductory mention of John 12:32.

John 12:32 is a “verse” I’ve known for most of my teen-to-adult life.  It says, roughly, “When I am lifted up, I will draw all men to myself.”  In order to understand more fully this “verse” in its context, one might need to take into consideration such things as

• John’s life
• his association with Jesus
• the date of authorship
• other historically contextual matters
• literarily contextual matters such as
  • John’s purpose in writing his gospel
  • symbolism and themes of the gospel (logos? light? truth? etc.)

But even a cursory reading of 12:32 and immediate context (I won’t begin to deal here with any deeper contextual questions, analysis of John’s literary themes, or the like) shows clearly that “when I am lifted up” means when I am crucified.

There’s this gospel song titled “Lift Him Up.”   My parents used to sing it with groups of close friends, and we sang it at church a few times.  The first stanza queries,

How to reach the masses—men of ev’ry birth?
For an answer Jesus gave a key:
And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me.”

Fair enough.  Simple enough.  And profundity aplenty.

But the chorus repeatedly invites the singer/hearer to “Lift Him up!  Lift the precious Savior up!”  And thereby, for decades, congregants have run afoul of scripture.  John 12:32 is not about conceptually “lifting” the notion of Jesus and holding it/Him high, i.e., “exalting the Christ,” for all to see!  Exalting Jesus, calling attention to His lordship, etc., are generally good ideas, in my opinion, but John 12:32 has nothing directly to do with them.

Doesn’t it strike you as laughable that this song essentially has Christian congregations shouting “crucify Him!” because John 12:32 was treated as an inkblot to be “interpreted” subjectively, instead of understanding “lift Him up” in context?