So, I haven't blogged in a while. I had my final papers and exams the last couple weeks, so I've been pretty busy. Now that I've finished spring long term, though, I should have more time.
Any blog about my time at PTS wouldn't be complete without mentioning my Doctrine of Election class with Bruce McCormack. Dr. McCormack is a well-respected Barth scholar, and his own unique contribution is in the area of election, so this is a fairly big-time class at PTS. I really had no idea who McCormack even was going into the class, so I was forced to get up to speed fairly quickly.
We covered much of the historical development of the doctrine, at least until the time of Barth, which was helpful. I was able to clarify Augustine's position in my own mind (more specifically the development in Augustine over the span of his life) and take a brief look at Aquinas. Calvin I had read already. Given the emphasis of PTS in general and McCormack in particular, it shouldn't be surprising that Barth was hyped as a sort of savior for the doctrine of election in the Reformed tradition. McCormack himself likes to tell about how he began as a Wesleyan-Arminian, became Calvinist for about three years in grad school, and then Barth "saved" him from Calvin.
I was thoroughly disappointed by what I found in Karl Barth. Not that his doctrine of election is bad; I think its really fairly good. He emphasizes God's election of Jesus Christ over discussion of individual destiny, which I appreciate. He reminds theologians that God's relationship and governance of individuals cannot be separated from the loving sacrifice of Jesus Christ, which is also a helpful reminder. But when it came to his discussion of individual election, his position wasn't substantially different from previous options (at best), and maybe even incoherent (at worst).
Barth wants to emphasize that Christ has taken our punishment in the crucifixion. As a result, humanity is elect and Christ is reprobate. God has chosen to reprobate himself in Jesus Christ rather than punish humanity. He even makes claims such as this: "Not every one who is elected lives as an elect man... Perhaps he never does so... this fact does indeed conflict with his election, but it cannot annul it. ... His rejection may be attributed to him... only as a threat hanging over him... the threat which is rendered powerless by Jesus Christ." (CD II/2.321) Barth sets up a system where the inevitable conclusion of his calculus is that all are universally elect and therefore universally saved, but he doesn't want to go there, so he never quite makes the jump. The only other options that might be able to resolve the tension in Barth's system would be the Calvinist move of denying universal election, or the Arminian move of allowing the individual to ultimately resist election. Barth doesn't seem to offer some wildly attractive third option, unless that option is universalism (which I cannot accept since I can't justify it exegetically).
Things I took from this class:
1) The relationship between God's nature and God's will may be more complicated than simply sublimating one to the other. God is who God is (triune, etc.) because God freely chooses to be so. God chooses to be loving and triune based upon his nature as God. The two need not be mutually exclusive statements for an eternal being (maybe).
2) I don't like the idea of collapsing God's justice into God's sovereignty. This seems like a rank abuse of language. Surely when one speaks of God's justice, one is talking about a particular way in which God exercises his power, rather than the mere fact of his power. God's action provides the definition for justice, but that doesn't deny justice its character as distinct from sovereignty
3) A lot of useful historical data
4) I truly can embrace Reformed brothers and sisters as part of the Christian tradition. I didn't get a lot of sympathy as an Arminian/Molinist at a Reformed seminary, but I was able to gain an appreciate for the concerns which drive the Reformed perspective. I may not agree, but I do respect their underlying motives.
5) The Doctrine of Election can be a powerful, positive doctrine. It need not consist of a terrible, absolute decree coming from an unknown and unknowable primordial will of God. God has revealed himself as loving, and self-sacrificial, and as willing to take humanity's place in punishment. Before we can speak of man's election to relationship with God, we have to recognize God' election of himself to be a God for humanity in Jesus Christ. Nothing could be better news.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
How wise are we, really?
I was reading 1 Corinthians this morning and I came across this verse: (1 Cor. 1:17) "For Christ did not send me [Paul] to baptize but to proclaim the gospel, and not with eloquent wisdom, so that the cross of Christ might not be emptied of its power."
I'm not even going to touch the baptism thing. What struck me was the idea that eloquent wisdom might empty the cross of its power. Now, I recognize that there is plenty going on in this chapter historically and culturally, but just go with me (original meaning is not the only meaning). It struck me that I normally think of "eloquent wisdom" as a very good thing, especially when preaching the gospel. Who would sign up for a pastor that sounded foolish compared to a pastor who was eloquent and wise? It seems like a no-brainer, and yet Paul seems to be saying that all our eloquence and wisdom can empty the cross of its power.
It also occurred to me that I'm at seminary, and we're being trained to be more eloquent and wise in our proclamation of the gospel. This idea was disconcerting. At what point does our learning and the application of our learning to the Gospel simply rob it of its power? In substituting our own wisdom and eloquence for God's, how quickly do we eviscerate our own ministry? "For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength." (1 Cor. 1:25) Is there a way we can use our learning to let God's foolishness speak more clearly, rather than allowing our wisdom to obscure it?
I don't think that Paul is advocating a completely unreasoning faith. After all, Paul commends the Corinthian church for having "been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind." (1:5) But there is definitely a danger here which Paul is warning us against, and I'd like to know how I avoid it as well. In this passage, the danger seems to be division (see 1:10-11), but I don't think that's the only danger involved. I'm not sure I know all the dangers involved in learning. But I know this: I don't want my "wisdom" to rob the cross of its power.
May God show me the dangers, and speak His foolishness through me.
I'm not even going to touch the baptism thing. What struck me was the idea that eloquent wisdom might empty the cross of its power. Now, I recognize that there is plenty going on in this chapter historically and culturally, but just go with me (original meaning is not the only meaning). It struck me that I normally think of "eloquent wisdom" as a very good thing, especially when preaching the gospel. Who would sign up for a pastor that sounded foolish compared to a pastor who was eloquent and wise? It seems like a no-brainer, and yet Paul seems to be saying that all our eloquence and wisdom can empty the cross of its power.
It also occurred to me that I'm at seminary, and we're being trained to be more eloquent and wise in our proclamation of the gospel. This idea was disconcerting. At what point does our learning and the application of our learning to the Gospel simply rob it of its power? In substituting our own wisdom and eloquence for God's, how quickly do we eviscerate our own ministry? "For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength." (1 Cor. 1:25) Is there a way we can use our learning to let God's foolishness speak more clearly, rather than allowing our wisdom to obscure it?
I don't think that Paul is advocating a completely unreasoning faith. After all, Paul commends the Corinthian church for having "been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind." (1:5) But there is definitely a danger here which Paul is warning us against, and I'd like to know how I avoid it as well. In this passage, the danger seems to be division (see 1:10-11), but I don't think that's the only danger involved. I'm not sure I know all the dangers involved in learning. But I know this: I don't want my "wisdom" to rob the cross of its power.
May God show me the dangers, and speak His foolishness through me.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Theology of Scripture
I took two other classes during the last semester, but the class I took in January fits much better with my last post, so I'm going to take a look at this one first.
The class I took was Issues in the Theology of Scripture, a class which, according to the professor, was aimed at bridging the gap between Biblical Studies and Theology. I was really excited for this class, since one's view of Scripture affects so much of one's methodology in theological inquiry. In order to do theology, you have to know where to get your information, and Scripture is (obviously) the primary (perhaps only) source of this sort of knowledge for Christians.
Given the importance of the topic, its shocking to me that this was the first time the class has ever been taught at PTS. Surely students have been forced to form their thinking about Scripture before 2009. Scripture is so foundational, how could we not have a class where we explore what we want to say and believe concerning Scripture?
The class itself was enjoyable, if a bit confused at times. Like I said, it was the first time it was taught and it showed. I felt that a few days were wasted here and there, and some topics covered likely reflected the area of "comfort scholarship" (to make up a term) for the professor. Shane Berg is a NT and 2nd Temple Judaism scholar, and so we spent some time with the Dead Sea Scrolls, etc. He is a fantastic prof (either my favorite or second favorite I've had so far), but it was difficult in my mind to justify the time we spent on his pet areas.
I gained several important insights through this class, which should serve me in good stead going forward. First, Dr. Berg offered some very encouraging and helpful insights into the nature of textual variants, different textual traditions, and the state of textual criticism in general. Basically, I feel like my confidence in the basic reliability of the NT is largely justified, even if there are minors issues with bits and pieces. These discrepancies can't be ignored, but neither are they nearly significant enough to derail my faith in and use of the Scriptures.
Second, I was exposed to the deep gulf which lies between the fields of Biblical Studies and Theology. Biblical Studies departments are lucky it the OT and NT faculty enter into substantial dialogue; discussion between the Systematic Theologians and the Biblical Scholars is even less likely. Theologians are also guilty, or at least can be, for they often fail to make use of or acknowledge the helpful and important findings of biblical scholarship. The result is Biblical Scholars who fail to recognize the unique nature of Scripture and fail to study the Bible with this uniqueness in mind (I view this as a fault, others do not) and thus study of the Christian Bible ceases to be Christian at all, or Systematic Theologians who fail to deal adequately with the serious challenges and insights of Biblical Scholarship. Neither is an enticing option. Morever, both have a dubious relationship with historians and historical inquiry (I tend to see this more as an issue in Biblical Studies, but I'm sure it exists everywhere), with the result that scholars make historical claims which go beyond the scope of legitimate historical inquiry.
I also gained some new language for how I would speak about the basic nature of the Biblical writings and reaffirmed my personal bias for focusing upon the canonization of Biblical writings as opposed to the original authorship of those writings, but that would require a much longer explanation and I want to get to a thought that I've been pondering ever since I encountered it in this class.
One assignment we were given was a case study centered around Joshua 6, the conquering of Jericho. We had a panel of professors come in and speak, and the case study was put to them. Joshua 6 is a hot bed of various issues (the command to kill everyone comes to mind), but the one I'm concerned with is the historicity of this story. Scholars and archaeologists struggle with this story, citing various bits of evidence that lead many to the conclusion that the story couldn't have happened historically the way described in Scripture. When asked about the meaning of this passage, my OT prof from the previous semester gave a wonderful exegesis of the passage which he called the "plain sense" (a term historically loaded) of the passage. Basically, he took the story at face value and drew out a beautiful lesson (I could have used a bit more of this in OT, by the way, but that's a different quarrel).
My question for him afterwards was how he justified this reading if he didn't believe that the story really happened (I'm fairly certain he doesn't, but I don't know for sure). I thought his answer was intriguing, and I want to see what anyone who has persevered thus far thinks about it.
His response, basically, was that the justification for viewing this story as true lay not with the historical event, but with the historical community. If Jericho never happened, for him it doesn't change or illegitimize the "plain sense" reading of the text which he presented. The community of believers told this story to illustrate and teach about the sort of God they served, a God who works powerfully for those who obey (or something similar, the exact reading of this passage is beside the point). The justification for the teaching embodied by this story is that the community experienced this God and continued to use the story to explain the power of God they had experienced in different yet similar ways. The historical justification and basis of the teaching need not be the event described, but could possibly be the historical experience of the community of believers embodied by the story.
So, for my OT professor (Dr. Olson), if a Biblical story were proven to be historically inaccurate it wouldn't render the teaching illegitimate nor would it eradicate the historical basis for that teaching. The point of the story is to teach something about God, humanity, and the relationship between the two, and it can do so without being based on historical event. Or, rather, it need not be based on the historical event described; the historical basis could be the historical experience of the community who continued to teach this story which reinforced and legitimized the teaching contained therein. Construing the historical basis for the teaching of Scripture in this way, if accepted, allows one to deny that the teaching is lacking in historical backing or evidence while relocating to source of this evidence to a place less easy (probably impossible) to attack by historical criticism.
I'm not committed to this position, but I do think its interesting and presents some interesting possibilities. Taken to an extreme I think it is problematic (the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus must be real, historical events, and I would not want to deny the historicity of all the Biblical narratives), but used in certain cases, such as Joshua 6, it might be helpful. Thoughts? Criticisms? Does this suggestion avoid the problems of historical criticism or does it simply concede ground to the detriment of the authority of Scripture? All thoughts welcome!
The class I took was Issues in the Theology of Scripture, a class which, according to the professor, was aimed at bridging the gap between Biblical Studies and Theology. I was really excited for this class, since one's view of Scripture affects so much of one's methodology in theological inquiry. In order to do theology, you have to know where to get your information, and Scripture is (obviously) the primary (perhaps only) source of this sort of knowledge for Christians.
Given the importance of the topic, its shocking to me that this was the first time the class has ever been taught at PTS. Surely students have been forced to form their thinking about Scripture before 2009. Scripture is so foundational, how could we not have a class where we explore what we want to say and believe concerning Scripture?
The class itself was enjoyable, if a bit confused at times. Like I said, it was the first time it was taught and it showed. I felt that a few days were wasted here and there, and some topics covered likely reflected the area of "comfort scholarship" (to make up a term) for the professor. Shane Berg is a NT and 2nd Temple Judaism scholar, and so we spent some time with the Dead Sea Scrolls, etc. He is a fantastic prof (either my favorite or second favorite I've had so far), but it was difficult in my mind to justify the time we spent on his pet areas.
I gained several important insights through this class, which should serve me in good stead going forward. First, Dr. Berg offered some very encouraging and helpful insights into the nature of textual variants, different textual traditions, and the state of textual criticism in general. Basically, I feel like my confidence in the basic reliability of the NT is largely justified, even if there are minors issues with bits and pieces. These discrepancies can't be ignored, but neither are they nearly significant enough to derail my faith in and use of the Scriptures.
Second, I was exposed to the deep gulf which lies between the fields of Biblical Studies and Theology. Biblical Studies departments are lucky it the OT and NT faculty enter into substantial dialogue; discussion between the Systematic Theologians and the Biblical Scholars is even less likely. Theologians are also guilty, or at least can be, for they often fail to make use of or acknowledge the helpful and important findings of biblical scholarship. The result is Biblical Scholars who fail to recognize the unique nature of Scripture and fail to study the Bible with this uniqueness in mind (I view this as a fault, others do not) and thus study of the Christian Bible ceases to be Christian at all, or Systematic Theologians who fail to deal adequately with the serious challenges and insights of Biblical Scholarship. Neither is an enticing option. Morever, both have a dubious relationship with historians and historical inquiry (I tend to see this more as an issue in Biblical Studies, but I'm sure it exists everywhere), with the result that scholars make historical claims which go beyond the scope of legitimate historical inquiry.
I also gained some new language for how I would speak about the basic nature of the Biblical writings and reaffirmed my personal bias for focusing upon the canonization of Biblical writings as opposed to the original authorship of those writings, but that would require a much longer explanation and I want to get to a thought that I've been pondering ever since I encountered it in this class.
One assignment we were given was a case study centered around Joshua 6, the conquering of Jericho. We had a panel of professors come in and speak, and the case study was put to them. Joshua 6 is a hot bed of various issues (the command to kill everyone comes to mind), but the one I'm concerned with is the historicity of this story. Scholars and archaeologists struggle with this story, citing various bits of evidence that lead many to the conclusion that the story couldn't have happened historically the way described in Scripture. When asked about the meaning of this passage, my OT prof from the previous semester gave a wonderful exegesis of the passage which he called the "plain sense" (a term historically loaded) of the passage. Basically, he took the story at face value and drew out a beautiful lesson (I could have used a bit more of this in OT, by the way, but that's a different quarrel).
My question for him afterwards was how he justified this reading if he didn't believe that the story really happened (I'm fairly certain he doesn't, but I don't know for sure). I thought his answer was intriguing, and I want to see what anyone who has persevered thus far thinks about it.
His response, basically, was that the justification for viewing this story as true lay not with the historical event, but with the historical community. If Jericho never happened, for him it doesn't change or illegitimize the "plain sense" reading of the text which he presented. The community of believers told this story to illustrate and teach about the sort of God they served, a God who works powerfully for those who obey (or something similar, the exact reading of this passage is beside the point). The justification for the teaching embodied by this story is that the community experienced this God and continued to use the story to explain the power of God they had experienced in different yet similar ways. The historical justification and basis of the teaching need not be the event described, but could possibly be the historical experience of the community of believers embodied by the story.
So, for my OT professor (Dr. Olson), if a Biblical story were proven to be historically inaccurate it wouldn't render the teaching illegitimate nor would it eradicate the historical basis for that teaching. The point of the story is to teach something about God, humanity, and the relationship between the two, and it can do so without being based on historical event. Or, rather, it need not be based on the historical event described; the historical basis could be the historical experience of the community who continued to teach this story which reinforced and legitimized the teaching contained therein. Construing the historical basis for the teaching of Scripture in this way, if accepted, allows one to deny that the teaching is lacking in historical backing or evidence while relocating to source of this evidence to a place less easy (probably impossible) to attack by historical criticism.
I'm not committed to this position, but I do think its interesting and presents some interesting possibilities. Taken to an extreme I think it is problematic (the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus must be real, historical events, and I would not want to deny the historicity of all the Biblical narratives), but used in certain cases, such as Joshua 6, it might be helpful. Thoughts? Criticisms? Does this suggestion avoid the problems of historical criticism or does it simply concede ground to the detriment of the authority of Scripture? All thoughts welcome!
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