Conservapedia

There has been a bit of a buzz about the new Conservapedia Bible Project. This is an attempt at a new Bible translation, a translation with a bold purpose, to boldly go where no man (gender exclusive language is preferred at Conservapedia) has ever gone before: to eliminate the "liberal bias" in the modern Bible.

Here is an outline and summary of the project, taken from the website:

Liberal bias has become the single biggest distortion in modern Bible translations. There are three sources of errors in conveying biblical meaning are, in increasing amount:
lack of precision in the original language, such as terms underdeveloped to convey new concepts introduced by Christ,
lack of precision in modern language,
translation bias in converting the original language to the modern one.
Experts in ancient languages are helpful in reducing the first type of error above, which is a vanishing source of error as scholarship advances understanding. English language linguists are helpful in reducing the second type of error, which also decreases due to an increasing vocabulary. But the third -- and largest -- source of translation error requires conservative principles to reduce and eliminate. (accessed on 12/4/09; bold type not added, per website)

The first thing I notice is that the attempt here is to eliminate "liberal bias" and thereby eliminate "distortion" of the Bible. This "liberal bias" is "the single biggest distortion in modern Bible translations." Such bias is one of three "errors in conveying biblical meaning."

Presumably the Conservapedia project has the honorable goal of eliminating distortions in translation to get at "biblical meaning." It is also presupposed that the "conservative" perspective will get us closer to "biblical meaning" than would a "liberal" perspective.

The first question, of course, is how do we define "conservative" and "liberal." There is much nuance in these political views. But even beyond this, why must we choose between these two perspectives? Are there not other political perspectives that do not fit neatly into such categories? Simply debating the terminology of these two terms is enough to make one realize that the Conservapedia project is based on a very tenuous foundation. But even if one were able to establish the definitions of "conservative" and "liberal," I think it remains difficult to establish that a "liberal" bias distorts the original meaning of the text, while (by implication) a "conservative" perspective unlocks the keys to the kingdom, so to speak, and gives one access to the original meaning of the text.

But let us set aside these methodological flaws, because I believe that there are far more interesting and important issues. There is an underlying assumption made by Conservapedia that I think many modern folk have: the idea that we can get at some "original meaning" of the Bible if we can only eliminate our modern biases. My position is that such an attempt is absurd.

When interpreting the Bible (or any text), one always has a certain "perspective" or "bias" that we bring. That is, one of the most fundamental things that makes us human is that we are "historical." How we think, how we take in the world, and the opinions and perceptions we have are all influences by our position within history: our social situation, economic situation, geographical situation, the traditions that we inherit, the philosophies that shape us, the stories that we are told, etc. For example, we take it for granted that the earth goes around the sun. When we look into the sky, we see the earth going around the sun. For the pre-Copernican peoples, the sun went around the earth. When they looked up at the sun, they believed that the sun was literally moving around the earth. This then is a matter of perspective.

Because we are historical, we are biased. And this is not necessarily a negative thing. The 20th century philosopher Hans-Georg Gadamer points out that our historicity makes any thought or discernment possible. And he is surely correct on this.

For Gadamer (and many others), there is no neutral ground, no unbiased perspective. That's okay. We are historically conditioned. No problem. We just approach interpretation with humility. But this is precisely the point that the Conservapedia folks seem to miss. They are looking to unlock the biblical meaning via a conservative perspective.

But....then again.....most people when they approach the Bible are trying, naively, to unlock the original meaning. That is, we so often assume that we can shed our historicity and somehow unlock this original meaning. Once we do so, we lament that so many other unfortunate fools remain trapped in their historicity, unable to see what we have seen with our undistorted vision.

Gadamer (and many others) suggest that we stop being so naive. Accept the fact that we are never going to have an "undistorted text." Gadamer goes so far as to suggest that every interpretation is a new work. Every translation is a new work. If we viewed the Bible this way, this would give us a bit of humility when we put forward our own interpretations of the Bible. It would also, perhaps, allow us to be more open to the perspectives of others. Perhaps we could recognize that each interpretation tells us as much about ourselves as it does about the text.

Now, one objection to this goes as follows: Why not just give up and say, "well, anything goes!"? Why not just let all interpretations have equal validity? It's all relative, so why even care? Why even interpret at all?

This is a good objection. But in reality, this conclusion does not logically follow. Quite the contrary, the fact that when we interpret we learn as much about ourselves as we do the text seems to make the task of interpretation more interesting and engaging. It also makes interpreting the Bible a community activity. As such, interpretation done in groups can help us grow in a more dynamic way. The interpretive task can be taken up in a serious way. The text should be respected, but equally so, we should respect each other. Gadamer calls this a dialogical approach.

The Conservapedia folks are in the unfortunate position of recognizing the bias of others, but not their own. This is something of a hermeneutical hypocrisy, but it is something that many of us are guilty of as we approach the biblical text. Had the Conservapedia gang recognized that the "conservative" perspective (whatever that it) is as equally biased as the "liberals," then there would be consistency. As it is, their attempt seems contrived and quite random to me. It appears presumptuous to suggest that a so-called "liberal bias" would result in distortions. But it is even more naive to assume that we can ever completely get at the original meaning of the text. Yet this naivety is something that most Biblical interpreters seem to be guilty of. The folks at the Conservapedia Bible Project have done us the favor of presenting an exaggerated example of the mistaken mindset that many of us take when we approach the Bible, or any other text.

We cannot eliminate our modern biases, and we cannot ever completely get at the original meaning. But that's okay. It's what makes us human.

Sacred words

In a previous post, Exodus, we discussed the idea of a "biblical worldview." There is a notion that has been popular in some Christian circles that the Bible teaches one worldview. It follows, then, that one of the main reasons to read and study the Bible is to understand this one worldview. If we understand this particular way we should view the world, then we can align ourselves with it. Put another way, we can "think God's thoughts after him" and think the way God wants us to think.

But this view seems subject to many problems. First, a worldview encompasses far more than one's intellectual beliefs. Most of what makes us tick is deeper and non-cognitive. Psychologically speaking, we can discuss the subconscious and the drives that dictate behavior. For example, what leads us to make an impulse buy? Or, conversely, to despise all impulse buying? Life is deep. It just doesn't work to cognitively believe the "biblical worldview" and then think that this will auto-magically translate into deep spiritual transformation. Life doesn't work that way.

Another snafu in "the one true biblical worldview" perspective is that the Bible itself seems to have many many different ways of viewing the world. One example of this is that the book of Proverbs seems to praise the wisdom tradition, while the book of Ecclesiastes seems to undercut and destabilize the wisdom tradition.

Perhaps we can develop an alternative approach to the Bible.

20th century philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein spent much of his life thinking about language. He wrote a small little book called the Tractatus at a young age, believing that he had solved all of the problems of philosophy. Later he decided that there was more to be said.

Wittgenstein directed us back to language as "use." What is language? How do we determine meaning? Look to see how it is used. We share language with each other, so language is a public exchange, which is why we can understand each other. But for this reason, it also changes and evolves.

Language is like a city, Wittgenstein says, that evolves over time. We tear down buildings and build new ones. We redirect or widen roads. Having visited Wittgenstein's home city of Vienna, I could see that this was the case. The layout (or "language") of the city has clearly changed in accordance with the way people have needed the city to function. We do the same when we speak, we construct words and phrases and use them to do what they need to do. Currently, we are using new words and terminology to describe new technology. We are using this language to help us discuss and even to think about this new technology.

Without language we cannot think. The more restricted our language, the more difficult it is to understand and process our world. This is an insight that Wittgenstein made much use of in his philosophy.

So, what is the Bible? It is language that helps us think about God, life, religion, spirituality, psychology, wisdom, love, pain, relationships, self, sacrifice, and on and on the list could go.

The often-quoted passage on biblical inspiration mirrors Wittgenstein's idea of language as use. "All Scripture is God-breathed (theopneustos) and is useful for......" The passage uses the literal term "God breathed" (not "inspired") and it immediately qualifies it as a pragmatic thing: usefulness.

The language of the Bible is God-breathed in direct connection with its ability to be used as such. The early and medieval church had a much better understanding of this. They used the language of Scripture for many diverse purposes.

So, what if we make this suggestion: The Bible is something like a sacred language that some of us use to discuss life as we know it.

Because the Bible is language, it has limits. Theologians throughout history (Christian and non) have held that many of the most sacred things (including God herself) are ineffable. That is, they cannot be described with language.

At what point should language cease to describe? What is the role of silence? And can we use the language of the sacred texts together with silence? These are important considerations if we believe that some things are deeper than words.

These observations accord with what we know about ourselves and others: that much of who we are seems to operate in non-cognitive ways, ways that we can't always put into language.

So rather than being the foundation for a biblical worldview, the Bible becomes the language we use to describe what we can describe; but it also leads us to the limit of language, bidding us to explore areas of life and reality that the text itself cannot describe.

Describing Vienna is one thing, trying to navigate its twists and turns is quite another. Reading about a city has limits but is very useful. Experiencing a city opens it up for a whole new realm of experience. And then there is the evolution of a city that lies beyond all the comprehension of language or experience. This is the totality of its complicated developments as time winds on, the myriad exchanges between people and the experiences they share. There is no one philosophy of a city that is comprehensive for language to describe its totality. The totality of a city is greater than words, deeper than language. And in the same way, there is no theoretical, linguistic description that can do justice to life or to the sacred.

There is no one biblical worldview. There is language. There is us. There is reality. There is God. Somewhere in that mix something meaningful and profound may arise. In my mind, this makes our analysis of the Bible far more important. Rather than just a systematic answer key with a "biblical worldview" as its end goal, we must continually examine and re-examine the language and words we use. "It takes a village." Yes, but more than that, our views are formed by the language we use. This is actually where the "biblical worldview" people get it right: our words are important. But we all must struggle with our language, because in the end it isn't about getting the right language, but about understanding something much deeper. Possibly, it is about not understanding something.

For this reason, the language of other denominations and other religions (and non-religions) becomes important. Not to prove them wrong, but to serve as a possible corrective to our language.

We must discuss, we must think, we must engage, and paradoxically we must let be.

The Hermeneutic of Doubt

I finally had a chance to see Doubt last night with my good friend Tamie, and I was quite intrigued.

The plot: A strict, curmudgeon principal at a Catholic elementary and middle school (Meryl Streep, in a role I think she was born to play!) confronts the priest (Philip Seymour Hoffman) with an allegation of an inappropriate relationship with one of the boys. The principal is tough and persistent, and in the end the priest resigns his position and leaves the church/school.

But here's the thing: the film leaves us with no indication as to who is right and who is wrong. That is, there is no resolution as to whether or not the priest had an inappropriate relationship with the boy. We are only left with...well.....doubt.

The priest affirms his innocence and never wavers. The principal never gives an inch, she has an iron will. There is never hard evidence to suggest which person's interpretation is correct. There is no scene of the film that would suggest whether or not the priest is guilty.

The film is something of a "Rorschach test." That is, the response of the interpreter is more significant than the film. The film has no "true meaning," in itself, and doesn't press an interpretation on the audience.

Take note, friends. It is not just another "open" film, in good postmodern style. Rather, the individual (or collective) viewer's response at each stage in the film is telling for their particular disposition to the themes, controversies, subjects, and characters of the film. While this is certainly true of all films, literature, works of art, etc., Doubt seems to deliberately set itself up in a Rorschchian style. In this way, I found it more psychologically interesting than most postmodern films that play on differences of perspective: Doubt seems to lend itself to both analysis of perspective but also one's own psychological disposition.

For example, how we interpret and psychologically relate to child abuse is a critical influence on how we will interpret the plot and characters, potentially surfacing issues related to how we posture ourselves toward predators or alleged predators. Also, one's perception of change and the rule of law influences our interpretation of which character is more sympathetic.

Additionally, and perhaps most interesting to me, there is the very intriguing question of how we process events and how we look for truth. The principal is operating solely on the certainty that she generates from her will. There is a certain kinesthetic energy that she forces into her process of determining what is true and false. She believes that the priest is guilty. There is no doubt. This will certainly be viewed with suspicion by most Westerners, who (like myself) tend to look at "evidence" as being a greater support for processing the world and determining truth and falsity. I imagine that the principal's "certainty of the will" will be viewed with suspicion by most, but certainly not all.

The hermeneutic of Doubt intrigued me. I look forward to multiple viewings in the future. The religious themes of faith and doubt are also woven into the narrative in a thoughtful and intelligent manner, providing plenty of food for thought and topics for discussion.

Karen Armstrong in conversation

So, if religion is not about believing things, what is it about? What I’ve found is that, across the board, religion is about behaving differently. Instead of deciding whether or not you believe in God, first you do something, you behave in a committed way, and then you begin to understand the truths of religion. And religious doctrines are meant to be summons to action: you only understand them when you put them into practice. Karen Armstrong on SOF

Theology is poetry

I suggest we discuss the above conversation. Karen Armstrong is a prolific author and articulate speaker on comparative religion. She describes herself as "a freelance monotheist," and believes that "all the great traditions are saying the same thing in much the same way, despite their surface differences." She centers religion on compassion and ethics: "I say that religion isn’t about believing things. It's about what you do. It’s ethical alchemy. It’s about behaving in a way that changes you, that gives you intimations of holiness and sacredness.” [see wiki article]

What did I like, you ask?

I like Armstrong's comments about the fact that the Bible can't answer your questions. I think Armstrong rightly puts her finger on the fact that many fundamentalists and atheists have both erred in expecting the Bible to be a book of answers. Hence, either the Bible has life's answers (fundamentalist) or it doesn't (atheists). Of course, that's painting with rather broad strokes. (Not all atheists are reacting against fundamentalism, for example.)

Armstrong suggests that the Bible is "like weights in a gym" that we "struggle with." I like that. It reminds me when the book of Hebrews speaks of the "mature" approach to "the Word." The mature "by constant use have learned to distinguish good and evil." The idea in Hebrews (chapter four, is it?) seems to be of training, not by learning rules of behavior or true propositions that one applies to life; rather, I think the idea is that interaction with "the Word" (which probably should not be restricted to the written text) should result in a certain transformative effect that carries over into the lived life.

Armstrong talked about how the Bible can be (for many) an answer book that "with the click of a mouse the answers come up."

Also......what did I like....let me see here....

Okay, I really really appreciated her thoughts that the religious should develop a "counter narrative" to that of the "extremists." I like the positive movement. Armstrong talks about "an exegetical effort." In other words, engage the text.....deeply.....rigorously. I like it. Armstrong doesn't want to shy away from the text. For example, she suggests that there is "far more violence in the Bible than in the Koran," but that this is not something that a Christian should hide from.

On the negative side.....

I am always a bit cautious of those who suggest that all religions are generally the same, with only surface differences. I do appreciate and sympathize with the perspective. Extremists throughout history have exaggerated differences and exploited many. However, there are differences in religions, and the degree to which a religion differs depends largely on what one calls the "core," "essence," or "fundamentals" of the religion. And what one calls the essence of a religion is largely a matter of interpretation. In other words, religions like Isalm or Christianity have harsh words for non-believers or infidels, and as such it is easy to see how one could locate the essence of the religion in an us-versus-them frame of mind. I personally think that this is a mistake, but it is a matter of emphasis, isn't it? A matter of interpretation that has to do not just with the text or the tradition, but also with the interpreter's own vision for the world.

Did God write the Bible?

Or, perhaps more to the point, Should we call God an "author" of the Scriptures?

Yes, that's a much better question.

Interestingly, enough, while many conservative Christians here in the U.S. of A. would adamantly affirm that God authored the Bible, the Bible itself doesn't really seem concerned to make the point. In fact, as far as I can tell, there is never a statement that identifies God as "author" of the Scriptures.

I remember a few years back in one of my seminary classes (at a very conservative seminary), we were in the midst of a class discussion. Someone referred to God as the "author" of Scripture. So, I casually asked the question, "Is God the author of Scripture." The class (including the Prof.) started laughing; they thought I was provided dry comedy relief, in the distinctive Erdman style. However, they quickly realized I was, in fact serious, and we continued with the discussion for only a short while longer. Most in the classroom quite obviously hadn't considered whether God should be considered an "author" of the Bible.

"But what about 2 Timothy 3:16, Jon!??! What about it??!! Huh! Huh!"

Yes, good friend. 2 Timothy states that all Scripture is theopneustos, meaning "God-breathed." So, what does that mean? Well, honestly, it isn't clear! This is the only instance the term theopneustos is used in the New Testament. It is obviously a metaphor, but a metaphor for what? Authorship? I don't know. I'm not convinced. That all Scripture contains a "breath" of God is one thing...to say that this means God had a hand in the writing process. I don't, friend. Should we stretch the term "breath" and look for an exhaustive definition? Or should we simply appreciate the ambiguity of a good metaphor?

Also, my good 2 Timothy 3:16 friend, bear in mind the context of the metaphor: the Bible has some good practical use. In other words, the idea of Scripture being breathed by God relates to its pragmatic value. I find the Scriptures far more useful when approaching them as a pluralistic perspective on life and faith.

What are the implications of dropping the idea that God is the "author" of the text. While I do not as of yet have anything resembling an exhaustive philosophy of the Bible to give you, there are a few points that seem rather clear to me.

First, let's say that the Bible is written by men. It is most naturally read as a conglomeration of diverse writings. "God-breathed," yes. "Written" by God....let's say "no."

Second, the Bible is highly contextual. It contains perspectives relevant to the issues that people faced in their day. So, for example, according to OT law, if a dude rapes a girl, his "punishment" is that he has to buy the girl and make her his wife. Well, for that day it was probably a good law, considering how badly women were treated. But by our standards today (according to our 21st century American context), this is a ridiculous law! The Bible deals most primarily (but certainly not exclusively) with issues closely related to the context of the day.

Third, the theology found in Scripture is highly pluralistic (even contradictory I would say, though some would disagree!). This third point kind of follows from the first two. One example of this seems to be the character of God. God might be unchanging according to one perspective in one book of the Scripture, but in another, he is shown to respond to what we do and even to change his mind.



Fourth, the Bible itself shows a movement and a progression. The most blatant example would obviously be the New Testament writers recontextualizing the Old Testament to better "fit" and to better understand the event of the coming of the Messiah. That is why some of the "proof texts" that you see in the NT don't seem to fit (at all!) the original context from whence they were plucked! The concern of the NT writers was to BOTH find continuity with the OT but to go beyond it and address the issues of their day and the new challenges and opportunities available to the faithful.

Fifth, in light of all of the above, I think that the point of reading and applying the Bible today is to recognize the need to continue to recontextualize the Scripture, to realize that the power of the written text is primarily to focus our attentions on the current day and to think critically about the unique issues and questions that we face. If there is a "constant" or an "absolute" in all of this, it would have to be the presence of the Spirit of God--the "living and active Word of God" as the book of Hebrews says.

To say that the text is "God-breathed" then, is not to say that it has all the answers to today's questions (evolution, abortion, homosexuality, women's rights and status, sexual ethics, pornography, etc.). The text is certainly a guide, and a very important one; but the primary connection is not to the text itself, but to the God of the text. Karl Barth said that the Bible is not the revelation of God but the record of the revelation of God. I kind of like that thought and approach. For Barth (and others), the Word of God becomes the Word of God as it is proclaimed in the contemporary context. The text, then, seems to become more dynamic.

What say you? What are the various implications if we drop the terminology of God being the "author" of the Scriptures?

What then the book?

I fancy myself a thinker. I fancy myself a writer.

There are certainly deeper thinkers in this world and certainly better writers. But I am what I am, and the world is what it is.

One characteristic of this world is that it is saturated with writing. So, if someone says, "I wrote a book" it is difficult to be impressed. "You and how many other countless billions???"

In a disposable society, the writing and the writer are disposed of. Even writers who make it into the big distribution chain stores, like Barnes & Noble, are disposable: a one hit wonder or the flavor of the day. The worth of the book (and by implication the author) is only as much as the profit to the distribution outlets at any particular moment in time. Books that don't turn a profit are moved out of the way. Books that do turn a profit take their place. The non-selling book is moved to the bargain shelf. What does this mean? It means that the non-selling book is cheap. It's ideas are cheap. It's author is cheap. And anyone who buys it is cheap.

There is so much "originality" that nothing is original.

We live in an era where so many people are famous that no one is famous. Fame is old hat; it is boring. 15 minutes of fame is allotted to everyone, but no one really gets much more. No one, that is, except Tom Cruise and Britney; and they, of course, are insane. But insanity is becoming the one trait that is the most valuable for a celebrity to achieve. Michael Jackson showed us the way.

So, if I fancy myself a writer, why should I write a book?

Affirmation? Not interested.

Fame? Nope.

Money? Boring.

There are only a few reasons I can think of to write a book:
1) To bring more people to my blog to join in the conversations, which I think are quite interesting. But even this is debatable, because too many people commenting can defeat the purpose; a blog can become saturated with comments.
2) A book is still a different media. There is still something unique about holding a physical book in your hands and sitting down with it to read. This is certainly something to consider, but on the other hand, there is a lot that can be done with a blog that cannot be done with a book; specifically, multimedia. I can provide instant links to articles or essays or interesting websites that the reader can instantly access. Also, I can embed youtube videos in my blog, something I particularly enjoy, or I can upload pictures from around the world. My writing, then, can be woven together with links and multimedia in a unique way. It is something new to the 21st century--a historical time for writing.

Blogs are also instant publishing tools. History moves faster now. We live in hyperculture. Commentary can no longer wait. Both for better and for worser, we think and live on the fly. Writing must evolve. We must reflect and write at the speed of life.

Also, blogging provides the opportunity for instant feedback. This allows me to nuance my thoughts with different perspectives, particularly from those who present differing points of view. Or, perhaps I may realize my position or line of thinking lacks any substance, whatsoever. (This last scenario is, of course, completely hypothetical.)

One might think that the old school advocates of "authorial intent" would hail the advent of the blog as an unprecedented opportunity to discern the ever-elusive intentions of the author. Strangely, this has not been the case.

I'm sticking with the blog. It is superior to the book. (And, of course, my writing holds no substantial market value!) Blogging is a better way to communicate, not just to present the writing of an author but to evaluate and judge the self of the author. We no longer read at a distance, with an author that we do not know who exists in our mind as an image of perfection (or imperfection, as the case may be). We can now see the blemishes of the writer; or at the very least we can see their virtual blemishes.

In short, I feel that the book is an item of nostalgia [this thought, like any other thought, is not original, because there is nothing new under the sun; nothing, that is, except blogging]

Scattered thoughts on sacrificial reading

If I were a teacher I would spend significant time reading in class. This is particularly true if I were a high school teacher, because there is no collegiate or university that exists where one can promote the kind of sacrificial reading I am suggesting here.

I am thinking, specifically, about the biblical text, but all texts suffer from the influx of self-absorbed readers....perhaps because so much literature these days is self-absorbed, itself, and is produced for the selfish reader....We seem to know how to read the Bible in order to find what we are looking for, but we have a decreasing ability to truly listen and hear what it says.

We live in a disposable society. These days I am thinking about this because I have been in the process of buying and moving in to a house. It is rare to find a building or structure that is built to last. It is more desirable to build cheap and for the short term. Why worry about 200 years from now? This is how we Americans approach most things: The focus is the Now. We have a marked lack of appreciation for the things that last.

I don't have a problem with being focussed on the Now, but it is problematic to fixate on the present with disregard for the past or the future. All in all, we tend to be cheap in the stuff we build and buy. This translates into the way we intake texts: We are cheap readers. We don't want to extend the effort to understand the texts of the past. The past can speak to the present, but it takes a great deal of effort on the part of the reader to make this happen. It is much easier to buy the latest and greatest book that is on the current hot list. These books do our thinking for us. They speak to the present without need to go through the aggravation of interpreting and sifting through the past.

Technology does our work for us in many areas of life: electric can openers, vacuum cleaners, self-cleaning ovens, furnaces that heat (we don't have to make fire any longer), and machines that prepare our food so that we can buy it at the grocery store and pop it in the microwave. (Oh, did you think there was a grandmother in a kitchen somewhere in the heartland of America who made that frozen pot pie?!!??) We have become dependent upon machines and technology to do our physical labor. In a similar way, we are now dependent upon technology to do our thinking and feeling for us. Movies and television programs are designed to eliminate the effort that we must extend. That is why we turn to television: to zone out. Heck, I do this all the time. I've got no problem with it. But if this lack of effort is characteristic of one's entire approach to thought and emotion, then the soul becomes sick. Effort is important. We must extend physical effort or our bodies will atrophy and sicken. The same is true of the psyche.

In reading through a recent essay by R.W.L. Moberly in the Journal for Theological Interpretation of Scripture ("Biblical Criticism and Religious Belief", issue 2.1), I came across an interesting quote attributed to Brevard Childs: "If you want to become a better exegete, you must become a better person." A true reading of a text requires personal depth and perspective. This means that any serious reader is also reading the surrounding world. This is something typically neglected in closed religious environments.

Know thyself was inscribed at the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. Can we truly read a text if we do not know ourselves?

One of the important elements to reading is not just that I read the text, but that the text reads me. Can a text truly read me if I do not have a good sense of self? If "know thyself" is not a priority in closed religious communities where the preference is for sameness and uniformity, then the text ceases to become a dynamic agent and is reduced to a static and pragmatic tool--a means to an end of advancing a cause, controlling the religious faithful, or instituting programs and protecting or advancing the institution. The text and the reader must be set free.

We need more readers. Those who "hunger and thirst after righteousness." No one is hungry to sacrificially give themselves as readers. There is no one who is willing to lay down their lives for the text. The text serves us and that is all. But the call for readers resonates and the text beckons.

PoMo and Metanarrative Class - 1

Part of my reason for posting on Biblical Metanarrative last Thursday was to get some feedback in preparation for leading a discussion on Postmodernism for a Christian apologetics class at Grace today and this Thursday.

In class today we started with the question, "What is Postmodernism?" My position was that there is no such thing. Rather than thinking of "postmodernism" as a "philosophy" or "worldview," it is better to examine the very diverse strands of postmodern thought. I suggested that putting together a particular "postmodern philosophy" was a little like going around to a bunch of different houses and taking one piece of furniture from each and putting them all in a different room. Instead, each room must be appreciated, examined, and understood in its own setting and on its own terms. Similarly, it can be counterproductive to cut-and-paste a conglomerate group of very diverse and eclectic beliefs and assume that this is what "postmodern" thinking is all about.

Someone raised the question about whether there is talk of "postmodernism" on secular University campuses. A transfer student said that he was at a secular institution, and that he had never heard "postmodernism" discussed until he transfered to Grace. This is an interesting point. Are Christians simply wasting time on a debate on the validity of a "postmodern perspective" that does not exist?

So, we next transitioned into discussing the idea of "metanarrative." We started with Lyotard (referred to as "that guy" due to my inability to pronounce the French!), and then narrowed "metanarrative" down to usable definition - something that reflected contemporary usage. The general idea we settled on was that a metanarrative was a theory that explains all experience. A metanarrative has explanatory scope: It is totalizing. It is a framework used as a reference for interpreting our reality and the world around us.

One aspect of metanarrative that seems to be important is that a metanarrative is a theory that is expressly known. That is, it is something that we are consciously aware of. A person can say, "I am a Marxist," or "I am a Christian" and in saying so they understand that there is a theoretical framework that explains all stories and all narratives.

One of the trends of thinking in this postmodern age is to be incredulous (skeptical, suspicious) toward metanarratives. I suggested that it may no longer be incredulity (which implies that there may be something of a negative reaction); rather, I wonder if it may be a simple disinterest in metanarrative. Who, anymore, is really all that concerned with a theoretical framework that explains all aspects of reality???

That a metanarrative is something that is consciously constructed seems to differentiate it from a worldview. The term "worldview" grows out of German thinking (Weltanschauung). As I understand it, a worldview includes both the ideas and theories and values that we consciously hold, but also a variety of values, fears, hopes, dreams, etc. that we hold on a subconscious level. A worldview includes both the things we are aware of and the things we are not aware of.

What is next on the agenda for Thursday are two things:
1) Does the Bible teach a metanarrative. (We discussed this at Biblical Metanarrative.)
2) If it is true that in the postmodern era many are disinterested in metanarratives, then what are the implications for Christian apologetics? Is it necessary to appeal to a biblical or Christian metanarrative when discussing issues of faith with a non-Christian?

Here is a link to the outline I handed out in class:
http://erdman31.googlepages.com/2007-FallApologeticsClass-Metanarrat.doc

I scanned the notes I took in to class:

Biblical Metanarrative

The question is: Does the Bible contain or advocate a specific metanarrative?

We begin by asking, What is a metanarrative?

Jean-Francois Lyotard in his classic postmodern text of 1979, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, said, "I will use the term modern to designate any science that legitimates itself with reference to a metadiscourse of this kind making an explicit appeal to some grand narrative, such as the dialectics of Spirit, the hermeneutics of meaning, the emancipation of the rational or working subject, or the creation of wealth." (xxiii) Conversely, he defines postmodernism as follows: "Simplifying to the extreme, I define postmodernism as incredulity toward metanarratives." (xxiv, emphasis added)

We might say that a metanarrative is a grand narrative that has explanatory power. It is a reference point into which one fits their own story. We see this at work in the contemporary situation as the United States and other western nations seek to spread freedom, democracy, and capitalism worldwide. We are working under the assumption that these things have a universal explanatory scope that can bring prosperity and meaning to other countries; that if these other countries would only use the American story as their own metanarrative then they, too, can find life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

One thing that Lyotard does in his text is to compare and contrast science with narrative, saying, "Science has always been in conflict with narratives." (xxiii) What is "Modern," then, is any science that legitimates itself in reference to a "metadiscourse," as we noted above: "I will use the term modern to designate any science that legitimates itself with reference to a metadiscourse of this kind making an explicit appeal to some grand narrative, such as the dialectics of Spirit, the hermeneutics of meaning, the emancipation of the rational or working subject, or the creation of wealth." (xxiii)

A "metadiscourse" is that which legitimates the pursuit of science, while we might suggest that a "metanarrative" is some theory that explains and legitimates all the narratives/stories/lives of a society or culture. Perhaps we might say that as Americans we explain and legitimate our pursuit of the "American Dream" by virtue of referencing the metanarrative provided through capitalism and democracy. But metanarratives are also static, absolute, and universal. They have an explanatory power that extends across boundaries. They are totalizing.

We continue with Lyotard as he describes a "narrative" culture - a culture deriving its meaning from stories. Lyotard discusses “popular stories” where the “successes or failures” of the hero “either bestow legitimacy upon social institutions (the function of myths), or represent positive or negative models (the successful or unsuccessful hero) of integration into established institutions (legends and tales). Thus the narratives allow the society in which they are told, on the one hand, to define its criteria of competence and, on the other, to evaluate according to those criteria what is performed or can be performed within it." (20)

But Lyotard makes an interesting point here. In such a culture, narratives do not have their power in reference to the past, but in the very act of repeating the narrative and telling the story by the simple fact that they do what they do: "Narratives, as we have seen, determine criteria of competence and/or illustrate how they are to be applied. They thus define what has the right to be said and done in the culture in question, and since they are themselves a part of that culture, they are legitimated by the simple fact that they do what they do." (23) The reference is not to the past, as much as it is to the act of recitation, drawing the rather startling conclusion that a narrative culture has no need to remember its past: "By way of simplifying fiction, we can hypothesize that, against all expectations, a collectivity that takes narrative as its key form of competence has no need to remember its past. It finds the raw material for its social bond not only in the meaning of the narratives it recounts, but also in the act of reciting them. The narratives’ reference may seem to belong to the past, but in reality it is always contemporaneous with the act of recitation." (22, emphasis added)

Perhaps a good biblical example of a narrative culture might be the Israelites of the Old Testament who had been emancipated from the slavery of Egypt. They journeyed into the Promised Land with explicit reference to their story of God's deliverance through Moses. They were encouraged to "remember" this story. (Deut 5:15) Later, Joshua takes over and directs the Israelites according to their frame of reference. When he is old and ready to move on he passes along the same imperative to "remember." (Joshua 23) As we know from even a cursory reading of the Old Testament the people of Israel often "forgot" to reference the stories of their past. This happened, for example, soon after Joshua passes from the seen. (Judges 8:34) In Psalm 95:8 we find a reference to avoid the hardening of the heart that occurred by many in the past, "do not harden your hearts as you did at Meribah, as you did that day at Massah in the desert."

So, what was the problem of the Israelites? Was it the fact that they did not cognitively recall the stories? Did they, in fact, "forget" the narrative or allow the story to slip from their collective minds? Or perhaps we might suggest that the stories were used to justify the institution and the actions of the community, while the moral of the story itself was lost. The failure of the Israelites, then, was not in failing to recall but in failing to recontextualize. They settled for a narrative community where the reciting of the story was sufficient, while the God of the story slipped away. As such, the critique is not necessarily that they did not "remember," but that they did not remember in such a way as to affect the current context. The past was the past. The past belonged to the work of God, but the present belonged to them.

From the above, it seems quite clear that the Bible contains stories and narrative, but this brings us back to the question of a biblical metanarrative.

First, we might ask, can we live life without a metanarrative? Some believers suggest that everyone has a metanarrative, even if they do not know it. Everyone, they suggest, lives their lives in reference to a totalizing explanation of reality that fits their life into that grand plan.

I am not going to spend a great deal time on this, although it certainly makes for a good discussion - but I will merely register my disagreement. It appears to me rather self-evident that the postmodern condition is, as Lyotard says, "an incredulity toward metanarratives." (xxiv) Lyotard even suggests (remember that this is back in 1979) that narrative has been lost as well: "The narrative function is losing its functors, its great hero, its great dangers, its great voyages, its great goal. It is being dispersed in clouds of narrative language elements—narrative, but also denotative, prescriptive, descriptive, and so on." (xxiv) In the postmodern world that Lyotard sees, humanity has even lost the nostalgia for narrative, "Most people have lost the nostalgia for the lost narrative. It in no way follows that they are reduced to barbarity. What saves them from it is their knowledge that legitimation can only spring from their own linguistic practice and communicational interaction. Science 'smiling into its beard' at every other belief has taught them the hash austerity of realism." (41)

What replaced both narrative and metanarrative? Briefly, it is localized language games. Lyotard borrows Wittgenstein's idea of language games to speak of the diverse ways in which we communicate with each other. The implication, I believe, is that we gain meaning by connecting with others via language in its various forms. This occurs at a very localized level. Simply put, we develop little narratives: "little narrative remains the quintessential form of imaginative invention." (60)

We do not reference a grand, totalizing scheme, nor are we strictly a narrative culture. We live out our individual stories through a variety of intriguing language games. I think this is even more the case 30 years after Lyotard wrote The Postmodern Condition as it was back in 1979. The technological explosions have occurred, in large part, in the area of communication and networks of communication that engage us in countless language games on a daily basis.

More can be said on the way we communicate and find meaning via our language games, but we must return to the question of whether there is a "biblical" metanarrative. Does the Bible teach or hand us a metanarrative?

In our very brief examination of the Israelites we found that they likely fit more of a description of a "narrative" culture, rather than a culture that made reference to a grand narrative or metanarrative. I think this necessarily gives us a reason to be suspicious about the existence of any "biblical metanarrative." If Lyotard is even somewhat correct, then the idea of a "metanarrative" is something that is unique to Modern thought and as such it would have been a foreign concept to the mind of an ancient Israelite.

I have heard some believers defend the idea of a biblical metanarrative on grounds that the Bible presents us with the overarching theme of Fall and Redemption. This Fall-Redemption is a metanarrative that explains all of reality. Contained within it is the fact that humanity is in sin, that we cannot redeem ourselves, Christ came to redeem humanity, and we must place our trust in Christ for our redemption. There may be variations of the Fall-Redemption theme, but the argument for a biblical metanarrative generally comes back to these recurring key ideas.

I remain rather unimpressed by the attempt. The Bible may be used as a metanarrative - that I will not deny. In fact, I would even suggest that during the Modern era the Bible may have been put to good use as a metanarrative in competition with other metanarratives. I think that it was also misused as a metanarrative, but I allow God to use his Word in reaction to contemporary culture to accomplish whatever God wishes to accomplish. But ultimately I agree with Lyotard in the sense that metanarrative is a distinctly Modern development. I also agree that our culture is not currently either Modern or pre-Modern in the sense that we are not concerned with metanarrative nor are we nostalgic for narrative. We live in a rather strange time. Interesting, but strange.

Another concern I have with the idea of a biblical metanarrative is that we cannot escape the fact that what we call "the biblical metanarrative" is still a matter of interpretation. There is no one verse that states: This is the metanarrative that ye must use as a totalizing scheme and a vast explanatory theory. Instead, we must look at the various stories within Scripture and the various doctrines and even poetry and wisdom literature and somehow pull from that a metanarrative. But have we learned nothing from Modern Theology? Do we need to dust off the systematic theology texts once again? It is the interpreter who makes the decision as to what are the "grand themes" of the Bible. For Calvin it was the sovereignty of God. But not all agree. In fact, there are as many "grand themes" as there are theologians. This is because we are all interpreters. When we read the Bible we interpret.

Our interpretations are diverse. They are the product both of interacting with the text, but also of bringing our own presuppostions, questions and concerns to the text. But this is not a bad thing. This is a necessary aspect of interpretation. When we read the text the text impacts us, but we also impact the text. This is not a defense of absolute relativism. It is simply to suggest that as we interact with the biblical text it speaks not only of God's past work but also of the work of God in the present.

Nothing illustrates this better than a study of the hermeneutics of the book of Hebrews. In the book of Hebrews we find a dynamic interaction between the Old Testament text and the issues of the contemporary church. Christ had come. The paradigm had changed. As such, what was said to the Israelites was recontextualized based on what God was now doing through the Body of Christ.

Earlier I cited Psalm 95. In Hebrews 3 and 4 the warnings to Israel to pay attention to the past are recontextualized so that the believing community would not develop a hardened heart, but that they would encourage each other as long as it is called "Today." Additionally, believers are encouraged to "enter the Sabbath rest" by seizing the opportunities afforded by each "Today."

The recontextualizations are sometimes in close continuity with their original Old Testament context, while at other times they are very fluid and demonstrate a great deal of discontinuity with their original context. But what we see on display is that interpretation of the Word of God is never strictly a matter of reciting the past narrative but is simultaneously an appropriation and application of its meaning for the present. The Word of God is "Living and Active." (4:12)

There is s similar lesson here for the idea of a biblical metanarrative: We must always allow for dynamic interpretation. A metanarrative is a static idea. It is something that gains its Modern charm by totalizing and absolutizing our interpretation of reality. But this can be counter productive for faith, because faith must understand itself anew in each generation. Faith that grows static is complacency and has no place in the Bible. Hebrews 12 tells us that we are surrounded by a "great cloud of witnesses." This represents the work of God in the past. It is an example for reference, but I do not believe that this necessarily implies that it must be used as a metanarrative that can be extrapolated and locked down in a static system. There is more more to the passage: We are to run the race with perseverance. This means that there is more to the story; there is the story of dynamic faith that must be recontextualized for every person in every moment of their life.

I want to reiterate that a so-called "biblical metanarrative" might be useful for some people and for some generations. However, I want to suggest that it is not a necessary ingredient for the Christian faith, and it is certainly not sufficient to produce faith.

Notes:
For a perspective that favors the idea of a biblical metanarrative, see The Biblical Metanarrative. Also see Andrew's post at Open Source Theology for what one might call an "emerging" perspective on the issue.

English as our official language

I received the following forwarded email from a truly beloved family member:

33 Senators Voted Against English as America 's Official Language June 6, 2007

On Wed, 6 June 2007 23:35:23 -0500, "Colonel Harry Riley USA ret" wrote:

Senators,

Your vote against an amendment to the Immigration Bill 1348, to make English America's official language is astounding. On D-Day no less when we honor those that sacrificed in order to secure the bedrock character and principles of America . I can only surmise your vote reflects a loyalty to illegal aliens.

I don't much care where you come from, what your religion is, whether you're black, white or some other color, male or female, democrat, republican or independent, but I do care when you're a United States Senator, representing citizens of America and vote against English as the official language of the United States

Your vote reflects betrayal, political surrender, violates your pledge of allegiance, dishonors historical principle, rejects patriotism, borders on traitorous action and, in my opinion, makes you unfit to serve as a United States Senator... impeachment, recall, or other appropriate action is warranted.

Worse, 4 of you voting against English as America 's official language are presidential candidates: Senator Biden, Senator Clinton, Senator Dodd, and Senator Obama.

Those 4 Senators vying to lead America but won't, or don't have the courage, to cast a vote in favor of English as America's official language when 91% of American citizens want English officially designated as our language.

This is the second time in the last several months this list of Senators have disgraced themselves as political hacks... unworthy as Senators and certainly unqualified to serve as President of the United States.

If America is as angry as I am, you will realize a back-lash so stunning it will literally rock you out of your panties... and preferably, totally out of the United States Senate.

The entire immigration bill is a farce... your action only confirms this really isn't about America ; it's about self-serving politics... despicable at best.

Never argue with an idiot; they'll drag you down to their level and beat you with experience." ~ anonymous

The following senators voted against making English the official language of America: Akaka (D-HI) Bayh (D-IN) Biden (D-DE) Wants to be President? Bingaman (D-NM) Boxer (D-CA) Cantwell (D-WA) Clinton (D-NY) Wants to be President? Dayton (D-MN) Dodd (D-CT) Wants to be President? Domenici (R-NM) Coward, protecting his Senate seat...Durbin (D-IL) Feingold (D-WI) Not unusual for him Feinstein (D-CA) Harkin (D-IA) Inouye (D-HI) Jeffords (I-VT) Kennedy (D-MA) Kerry (D-MA) Wanted to be President Kohl (D-WI) Lautenberg (D-NJ) Leahy (D-VT) Levin (D-MI) Lieberman (D-CT) Disappointment here.....Menendez (D-NJ) Mikulski (D-MD) Murray (D-WA) Obama (D-IL) Wants to be President? Reed (D-RI) Reid (D-NV) Senate Majority Leader Salazar (D-CO) Sarbanes (D-MD) Schumer (D-NY) Stabenow (D-M)

"Congressmen who willfully take actions during wartime that damage morale, and undermine the military are saboteurs and should be arrested, exiled or hanged."
- President Abraham Lincoln
"Amen"

First of all, I'm a bit confused. If there is 91% American support for this, then the politically expedient thing to do would be to vote for the bill. Right? So, how is it politically beneficial for any Senator to vote against it?

Next, For those who are pro-American, just keep this in mind: the English Language is from England. (Hence the name, "English" language.) There is no "American" language. We have "American English," perhaps, but even in that case you can't get away from those danged Brits!

I don't know that I am in favor of passing any language as an Official Language. America is a melting pot, so let everyone speak how he or she chooses to speak. Let freedom and diversity reign from sea to shining sea.

Why do people get so steamed about this issue????

Wittgenstein

Ludwig Wittgenstein: The Duty of Genius
Ray Monk
1990
My Rating: 5 of 5 Stars

The entry on Ludwig Wittgenstein by The Shorter Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy (and by "shorter" we mean a mere 1,077 pages of small-type, double-column entries) states the following, "His writings have aroused great devotion because of the honesty and depth which many find in them. But it is important not to treat them with superstitious reverence. Rather they should be read in the spirit in which he intended, namely as an invitation to explore with as much integrity as possible one's own perplexities and what would resolve them."

Reading the above gave me pause. Why would a reputable philosophical encyclopedia feel compelled to provide a disclaimer against "superstitious reverence" toward a past philosopher? I can only imply that the author is concerned about a cult-following around the person and work of Wittgenstein. But doesn't this strike us as extremely odd? That at the end of the 20th century and as we embark on the 21st there are intelligent students of philosophy religiously devoting themselves to a philosopher not yet 50 years after his death? Admittedly, philosophy students are typically devoted to teachers and professors and even to philosophers of the past who write with the force of logic and truth. And yet I find no similar disclaimer in the Routledge entry on Plato, Locke, Kant, Hegel, or Russell. What is it about Wittgenstein that inspires such "superstitious reverence"?

The answer, I believer, is not simply to be found in the work of Wittgenstein but more so in his life. And this is where the Monk biography comes in. It bridges the gap between philosophy and life: "By describing the life and the work in the one narrative, I hope to make it clear how this work came from this man, to show - what many who read Wittgenstein's work instinctively feel - the unity of his philosophical concerns with his emotional and spiritual life." (xviii)

After reading Monk's biography I can understand why the philosophical establishment would see themselves obliged to disclaim any sense of religious devotion to Wittgenstein. Such devotion is simply the mirror reflection of a man completely dedicated to the questions of life that perplexed him, even tortured him. "Philosophy, one might say, came to him, not he to philosophy. Its dilemmas were experienced by him as unwelcome intrusions, unable to get on with everyday life until he could dispel them with a satisfactory solution." (3) Wittgenstein's ultimate solution to the problems of philosophy was to suggest that philosophy, itself, could not solve them. Or, at the very least, that philosophy has limits and parameters that it should not push beyond.

"What we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence." (Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, section 7)

In brief, the life of Wittgenstein was one of passion and complete dedication to pursue the deepest and most meaningful questions of life. He was religious, deeply committed to his own ethical purity, and above all things he was a man who brought a relentless intensity to everything that he deemed important enough to warrant investigation. For example, Wittgenstein would engage the most brilliant philosophical minds of his day and simply wear them down. He had the mental, physical and emotional capacity to sustain the pursuit of a line of thought for hours and hours on end. In many cases, philosophers like Bertrand Russell would simply not have the capacity (or even the desire in some cases) to follow Wittgenstein until he was satisfied to conclude.

How many philosophers inspire "superstitious devotion"? How many thinkers are truly worthy of the dedication of their followers? When compared to Wittgenstein, most philosophers appear to approach philosophy as though it were a mere hobby. Wittgenstein's life displayed a sheer force of intellectual passion.

Rather than attempt to review the life and work, exhaustively, I will pick and choose a few interesting portions of Monk's biography that I found particularly intriguing.

Here I highlight a comment by Wittgenstein on belief in God and its relation to science and proof:
"Wittgenstein did not wish to see God or to find reasons for His existence. He thought that if he could overcome himself - if a day came when his whole nature 'bowed down in humble resignation in the dust' - then God would, as it were, come to him; he would then be saved....Both the atheist, who scorns religion because he has found no evidence for its tenets, and the believer, who attempts to prove the existence of God, have fallen victim to the 'other' - to the idol-worship of the scientific style of thinking. Religious beliefs are not analogous to scientific theories, and should not be accepted or rejected using the same evidential criteria." (410)

The above line of thought is intriguing in its own right, and certainly a matter that has come under a great deal of debate over the years. But, aside from the substance of what Wittgenstein says, what is particularly interesting to me is the context within which Wittgenstein developed these ideas. He was working at Cambridge in the early 20th century, where a scientific approach was presumed (in some form or another) by virtually all serious thinkers. To our "postmodern" ears the above statements seem less radical and a matter to be taken seriously for thought and discussion. I don't know that we can appreciate the degree to which these thoughts would have deviated from the philosophical orthodoxy of the day. Of course, deviating from philosophical orthodoxy was the least of Wittgenstein's concerns!

Wittgenstein began his Philosophical Investigations by engaging the Confessions of St Augustine. Says Monk, "For Wittgenstein, all philosophy, in so far as it is pursued honestly and decently, begins with a confession. He often remarked that the problem of writing good philosophy and of thinking well about philosophical problems was one of the will more than of the intellect - the will to resist the temptation to misunderstand, the will to resist superficiality. What gets in the way of genuine understandings often not one's lack of intelligence, but the presence of one's pride." (366)

Monk continues on this line of thought and cites Wittgenstein, himself:
"If anyone is unwilling to descend into himself, because this is too painful, he will remain superficial in his writing: Lying to oneself, deceiving yourself about the pretence in your own state of will, must have a harmful influence on [one's] style; for the result will be that you cannot tell what is genuine in the style and what is false....If you are unwilling to know what you are, your writing is a form of deceit. (366-67)

The Liar Paradox is a problem that develops when someone says, "I am lying." Is the statement true or is it false. If it is true, then it is necessarily false. If it is false, then the person has told the truth. It is a simple little game of logic, but it creates great problems for various theories of propositions. Personally, I have wondered whether or not such paradoxes do not reveal a fundamental flaw in ascribing truth value to propositions, that perhaps this implies that truth is a matter greater than propositions. Or perhaps it is simply a manifestation of the absurdities of the universe. In any event, here is Wittgenstein on the issue:

"It is very queer in a way that this should have puzzled anyone - much more extraordinary than you might think: that this should be the thing to worry human beings. Because the thing works like this: if a man says 'I am lying' we say that it follows that he is not lying, from which it follows that he is lying and so on. Well, so what? You can go on like that until you are black in the face. Why not? It doesn't matter." (420)

For Wittgenstein, then, the issue was really a non-issue. But why? Monk says that it is because what needs to be explained is also why the question matters. In other words, justification is needed for the theoretical constructs that demand an answer to the question. "His [Wittgenstein's] point was rather that a contradiction cannot lead one astray because it leads nowhere at all. One cannot calculate wrongly with a contradiction, because one simply cannot use it to calculate. One can do nothing with contradictions, except waste time puzzling over them." (421)

Wittgenstein was also interested in Freud and dream interpretation. "It was the idea that dream symbols form a kind of language that interested him - the fact that we naturally think that dreams mean something, even if we do not know what they mean." (448) Monk continues, "What puzzles us about a dream is not its causality but its significance. We want the kind of explanation which 'changes the aspect' under which we see the images of a dream, so that they now make sense. Freud's idea that dreams are wish fulfilments is important because it 'points to the sort of interpretation that is wanted', but it is too general." (449)

Says Wittgenstein, "Freud very commonly gives what we might call a sexual interpretation. But it is interesting that among all the reports of dreams which he gives, there is not a single example of a straightforward sexual dream. yet these are as common as rain." (449) Monk continues summarizing Wittgenstein: "This again is connected to Freud's determination to provide a single pattern for all dreams: all dreams must be, for him, expressions of longing, rather than, for example, expressions of fear. Freud, like philosophical theorists, had been seduced by the method of science and the 'craving for generality.'" (449)

This next statement in regard to Freud is interesting to me: "There is not one type of dream, and neither is there one way to interpret the symbols in a dream. Dream symbols to mean something - 'Obviously there are certain similarities with language' - but to understand them requires no some general theory of dreams, but the kind of multi-faceted skill that is involved, say, in the understanding of a piece of music." (449)

The above reflections in relation to Freud and dreams are in line with Wittgenstein's approach of going to the particular thing rather than the general. Furthermore, Wittgenstein does not necessarily go to the particular thing with the intent of using it to develop overarching theories, perhaps what we might call a "metanarrative" - an overarching explanation for all things. This simply wasn't Wittgenstein's primary concern, and as such I think he is able to demonstrate insight into the "skill" required to interpret dreams.

More on Wittgenstein's religious outlook. Monk cites W:
"An honest religious thinker is like a tightrope walker. He almost looks as though he were walking on nothing but air. His support is the slederest imaginable. And yet it really is possible to walk on it." Says Monk, "Though he had the greatest admiration for those who could achieve this balancing act, Wittgenstein did not regard himself as one of them. He could not, for example, bring himself to believe in the literal truth of reported miracles:
'A miracle is, as it were, a gesture which God makes. As a man sits quietly and then makes an impressive gesture, God lets the world run on smoothly and then accompanies the words of a saint by a symbolic occurrence, a gesture of nature. It would be an instance if, when a saint has spoken, the trees around him bowed, as if in reverence. Now, do I believe this happens? I don't. The only way for me to believe in a miracle in this sense would be to be impressed by an occurrence in this particular way. So that I should say e.g.: "It was impossible to see these trees and not to feel that they were responding to the words." Just as I might say "It is impossible to see the face of this god and not to see that he is alert and full of attention to what his master is doing." And I can imagine that the mere report of the words and life of a saint can make someone believe the reports that the tree bowed. But I am not so impressed.'" (464)

The above can be a bit confusing in several places, but I added bold/italics to the second to last sentence because it seems to emphasize the main point of Wittgenstein's approach to miracle, namely, that the event may not necessarily occurred, but the religious significance of those involved impressed them to the point that it was as though it had actually happened.

Monk continues and notes that Wittgenstein's belief in God "did not take the form of subscribing to the truth of any particular doctrine, but rather that of adopting a religious attitude of life. As he once put it to Drury: 'I am not a religious man but I cannot help seeing every problem from a religious point of view.'" (464)

Can one "sum up" Wittgenstein's philosophy? Likely not! However, this one sentence, perhaps might be a start in understanding Wittgenstein's reflections as they relate to his contemporaries: "Partly under Wittgenstein's influence, the Theory of Knowledge had been subordinated to the analysis of meaning." (472) So, in this sense, the study of theories of epistemology eclipse into analyzing meaning: meanings of words and meanings of objects and the meanings of anything that we encounter in life that yields meaning. In this sense we are talking about a focus on interpretation. Interpretation was also the occupation of Heidegger and Gadamer in their own ways, and from there, philosophical thought (and even non-philosophical thought) seems to take of in a variety of directions.

In Zettel, Wittgenstein states, "Only in the stream of thought and life do words have meaning." For Wittgenstein, Monk notes, "Practice gives the words their sense." (573) This is a comment on context. Here, Monk comments on this idea of context and follows this by citing Wittgenstein: "The thrust of Wittgenstein's remarks is to focus the attention of philosophers away from words, from sentences, and on to the occasions in which we use them, the contexts which give them their sense:
'Am In not getting closer and closer to saying that in the end logic cannot be described? You must look at the practice of language, then you will see it.'" (578-79)

The above goes to the idea of a "framework" for thinking and interpreting. Monk states Wittgenstein as follows: "A framework itself cannot be justified or proven correct; it provides the limits within which justification and proof take place....We cannot make sense of anything without some sort of framework, and with any particular framework there has to be a distinction between propositions that, using that framework, describe the world, and those that describe the framework itself, though this distinction is not fixed at the same place for ever." (571) This reminds me of Gadamer's insistence that "tradition" and "prejudice," far from being things we should despise are the very preconditions under which all thought takes place. Interesting that for Wittgenstein we need to distinguish the propositions within the framework from those that describe the framework, and yet this cannot ever be "fixed." Monk cites an analogy that Wittgenstein uses for this point: "...the river-bed of thoughts may shift. But I distinguish between the movements of the waters on the river-bed and the shift of the bed itself; though there is not a sharp division of the one from the other." (571)

The life and philosophy of Wittgenstein is intense. His works, though short in length and few in words, are dense. Monk's biography, however, is highly readable and comes highly recommended. It traces Wittgenstein's philosophy as it relates to his contemporaries, however, it is not simply a portrait of the development of philosophy. Monk skillfully combines life and thought in such a way that one cannot help but be impressed by the person. This biography is helpful for its philosophical reflections, but it is fascinating for the portrait of the person - a person whose life and works have inspired a "superstitious reverence" that should make all establishment philosophers wary!

All that philosophy can do is to destroy idols.

Meaning vs. Significance

Here is a bit of a clip from Ben Witherington's blog:

When I say ‘what it meant is what it means’ in reference to any text, but especially the Bible, I mean that the meaning is encoded in the complex of words and phrases we find in the text. Meaning is not something we get to read into the text on the basis of our own opinions or ideas. Meaning is not in the eye of the beholder. Meaning is something that resides in the text, having been placed there by the inspired author and requires of us that we discover what that meaning is by the proper contextual study of the text. ‘Significance’ however is a different matter altogether. A text can have a significance or even an application for you or me, that the original author could never have imagined. But the text cannot have a meaning that the original inspired author did not place there. Meaning is one thing, significance or application another. The job of hermeneutics is to help us rightly interpret the meaning of these important Biblical texts.[1]

The basic idea here is that we can get the one, true meaning that is "encoded in the complex of words and phrases in the text" and then proceed to find the "significance" of the text. This is an old notion that goes way back. It was (unfortunately) revived by the Reverend E.D. Hirsch in Validity in Interpretation, and then Kevin Vanhoozer latched on to it as the make-or-break theory for his Is there Meaning in this Text?

I mention this faulty line of reasoning because I am taking explicit issue with it in my most recent essay-in-progress (an essay that I should be working on at the current moment, rather than blogging!).

Here's a big problem: The meaning/significance distinction does not hold in the book of Hebrews. The use of the Old Testament in the book of Hebrews is the topic of my essay. What we find in Hebrews is that the meaning of the text (i.e. the intention of the author "encoded in the text") is blurred together with the significance for the contemporary context. That is, God not only spoke in the past, but is speaking now, in the present. Here's the kicker: God is speaking something new through the old words.

The Word of God is Living and Active

Anthony Thiselton, whom I have praised a time or two on this blog, recognizes the folly of trying to press the meaning/significance distinction dogmatically and actually explicitly takes issue with Vanhoozer on this.

The Meaning/Significance issue is pushed for one, primary reason: Interpretive stability. In this post-Derridean age conservative biblical interpreters are worried primarily about preserving the meaning of a text. It is a reactionist/alarmist mentality. I suppose I can understand this to a point, however, ultimately I think anxiety is a poor foundation for theology.

Writing Forgotten

Mark Cuban is the owner of the Dallas Mavericks, a graduate of Indiana University, and a frequent blogger. (His greatest accomplishments having just been listed in reverse order.)

Cuban recently confesses to writing forgetfulness:
http://www.blogmaverick.com/2007/08/11/i-forgot-how-to-write/

I believe it was Socrates who expressed fear that writing would relax the mind and it would not have to recall.
Humanity was once a culture of oral communication, and then gradually writing became mainstream via technology.
Now technology has reached a point where our stream of consciousness can be recorded with little thoughtfulness.
Thought translated straight into the electronic format of your choice.
Thought into text.
In the blink of an eye.

21st Century writing:
Thought disappears as soon as it becomes.

Where does thought go?
It becomes an electronic trace.
Where is the trace?
On some server, somewhere. Or on a harddrive. Or in a phone.

Thoughts are then shared with the world.
An endless process of each person recycling thoughts and manufacturing new thoughts.
All thoughts disappearing nearly as quickly as they are formed.
We are building a matrix of thoughts - a tapestry of communication.
But who is in charge here?
The thoughts of the people?
Or the communication matrix?

Is there even a difference, anymore?

And who is responsible for this post, pray tell?

Thiselton cites Hodge on propositional and non-propositional language

The following quote is taken from Anthony C. Thiselton's essay "Can 'Authority' Remain Viable in a Postmodern Climate?" This is taken from his Thiselton on Hermeneutics: Collected Works with New Essays (2006).

In context the discussion is on language and the power of language to shape the world. That language is multi-functional and multi-layered. Thiselton suggests that "a number of the more traditional discussions of the authority of the Bible have suffered impoverishment through inadequate and simplistic understandings of the nature and function of language."

Although I pray the day will never dawn when I procreate, if indeed I am entrusted with a young mind to shape and form you can bet that Thiselton will be required reading. For those of you not familiar with Thiselton let me simply say that he was the most brilliant biblical hermeneutical mind of the 20th century. Without him Conservative biblical hermeneutical scholarship would be even more in the dark corners of anti-intellectual thought than they already are.

But Thiselton is not a postmodern advocate, by any means. I mention that to say that the following quote does not represent a hasty attack on Evangelical or Conservative thinking.

The terminology "propositional" and "non-propositional" sets the discussion off in unhelpful directions, but what those who use this term generally seek to express is that some genres within the Bible authoritatively declare the truth of certain states of affairs. If such terms are useful, distinctions of genre must also be borne in mind. For it would be patently absurd to claim that poetry or parables are "propositional" in the same sense as historical assertions within the Passion narrative that record the facts of the crucifixion. This unfortunate terminological misunderstanding may well have been set off by the reaction of the conservative Charles Hodge of Princeton (1797-1878) against the liberal Horace Bushnell of Yale (1802-76). Bushnell earned the name "father of American Liberalism", and his theology of the atonement fell short in ways that provoked Hodge. But Bushnell appealed to the role of metaphor in the Bible in ways that in principle would seem almost axiomatic to most biblical specialists and to virtually all literary theorists today. The problem was not that Bushnell appealed to metaphor, but how and when he did this. To call Jesus a "sacrifice", he urged, is the same level of metaphor as to call him a "lamb". Rather than debating the scope and function of metaphor, Hodge reacted by claiming the whole of the Bible was "propositional" and "cognitive". The Bible "is a storehouse of facts". He had no interest in the creative power of metaphor. In 1870 after fifty years of teaching he declared as praise for Princeton: "I am not afraid to say that a new idea never originated in this seminary." The consequences of this dreadful polarization have devastated American theology and hermeneutics for about a century, and the damage remains in terms of extremism here and there on both sides. (p. 631) (Bolding is mine)