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Volume 4, number 2, Winter 2006/2007

 
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ISSN 1555-936X

BOOK REVIEW

Christian Theologies of Scripture: A Comparative Introduction, Edited by Justin S. Holcomb (New York University Press, New York), Paperback Edition, 2006, 330 pages. ISBN-10: 0-8147-3666-1.

Reviewed by Mary C. Sheridan, St. Elias School of Orthodox Theology

In Justin Holcomb’s introduction to this book he tells us he offers a “map” to the “variety of views about scripture found throughout the Christian tradition”; he also states such a “map” can “assist us in developing theologies of scripture for our present and future contexts” (p. 6). Maps, though, may be more or less complete. Some maps show only major highways; other maps show every detailed road and street. The parts of the “map” of scriptural theology in this book, the chapters, due to the limitation of space in this book, necessarily show only major roads, the major tenets of the various theologians chosen to represent various periods of theological development. For instance, the patristic and medieval periods are combined and are represented by three theologians—Origen, St. Augustine, and St. Thomas Aquinas. The Reformation is represented by two men, Martin Luther and John Calvin; the chapter on the Counter-Reformation (to this reviewer’s count) mentions at least thirteen theologians. The nineteenth and twentieth centuries are represented by four theologians: Friedrich Schleiermacher, Karl Barth, Hans Urs von Balthasar, and Hans Frei. The last section discusses scripture from the standpoint of several female theologians currently working and publishing. Another chapter deals with scripture in the African-American Christian tradition; this chapter elaborates on the particular approach to scripture the African-American culture has taken in its history in America from the time of slavery to present day. This book then closes with an essay on scripture in the information/virtual age.

This review will by no means comment on all the scriptural points expounded by each scholar included in this book. In fact, the short summary of each theologian may obviously be inadequate. But this review will attempt to see the entirety of ideas in the book as a whole, see the evolution of thought about scripture as some of the greatest thinkers in Christianity gradually evolved a living scriptural theology. So an attempt will be made to capture in a few sentences the essence of the scriptural thought of each theologian and/or period.

However, since the eighteen chapters that constitute this book are each written by eighteen different scholars, the writing style, the summary of thought of each theologian is of varying quality. Therefore, mixed in with the very short précis of each theologian a short critique of the scholar who wrote the chapter will be included. In the opinion of this reviewer a book with a subtitle “A Comparative Introduction” [emphasis added] must be by definition written for the beginning student of scriptural theology. Therefore, this review will comment on how well, in this reviewer’s opinion, the scholar writing on the specific theologian explained, expressed the theologian’s ideas for the beginner in theology.

It should also be noted that the concentration of this review will be on the chapters dealing with the theologians.

Patristic and Medieval Period:

Origen: The great Origen is described by R.R. Reno as the “single most systematic thinker of Christian antiquity” and perhaps “the most learned biblical scholar of he early Church.”[1] Reno notes “Origen [185-254] is extraordinarily well disciplined as an exegete” but does not tell his readers the “meaning of biblical passages.” Origen leads those “reading his interpretation” so that they are “drawn toward the next step—contemplation of the larger scheme of interlocking events, people, and words that make up the divine economy itself” (p. 28). In other words, Origen’s exegesis is a kind of lectio divina. Reno notes: “Origen’s understanding of the essential purpose of biblical exegesis entails a movement through scriptural text toward knowledge of the larger unity it depicts, and from knowledge of that textual unity toward contemplation of the divine intention that has so disposed all things” (p. 29). Furthermore, Reno notes that “Origen’s exegetical work was so instrumental in the consolidation of what became the dominant or the tradition that it necessarily endured even as his name came to be associated with doctrinal error” (note 18, p. 37). The fact of Origen’s name being associated with doctrinal error is just that, in this reviewer’s opinion, an association. Anyone reading Origen easily sees him as a good and holy man.

Augustine: Pamela Bright notes that “Augustine’s doctrine of scripture was determined by his decades-long contemplation of…God, incarnate in human history, assuming the lowliness of the human condition” (p. 40). Bright further points out that Augustine (354-430) concentrated on “interpreting scripture by focusing on the nature and ‘ordering’ of love” (p. 42). She points out that “Augustine’s doctrine of scripture is infused with his celebration of the goodness of creation, in both its rich multiplicity and its limitations” (p. 49). Bright notes “Augustine’s influence on the reception of the Bible in Western Christianity is beyond comparison” (p. 50).

A missing “link” in this reviewer’s opinion is that there is no real explanation of what happened (or perhaps did not happen) in the eight hundred years between Augustine and Thomas Aquinas. Lewis Ayres in his introductory chapter to the Patristic and Medieval period does not mention any specific theologian who lived or wrote during this period. His only comment on the eight hundred year period is to say that two shifts occurred—new genres were developed and reading techniques of “non-Christian educators were increasingly taught in Christian contexts” (p. 17).

It seems that the medieval period got “short shrift” in this book. Perhaps a chapter, or even a page or two, on how the monasteries added to/subtracted from the preservation of the scriptures, somewhat akin to what Bart Ehrman did in Misquoting Jesus would have added a better continuity to tracing the development of scriptural theology.

Thomas Aquinas: In discussing Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) Peter Chandler points out that in the approximately eight hundred years between Augustine and Thomas Aquinas biblical reading and exegesis developed in the monasteries, especially as lectio divina (p. 61). With the growth of universities there was a “tendency toward abstraction and systematization” (p. 62). Aquinas and the scholastic practice of reading scripture “was a decided difference” from the approach to scriptural theology in previous centuries in that it was “influenced by the study of the works of Aristotle” (p. 61) and was “less ordered to…contemplative reading than to academic disputation and preaching” (pp. 61-62). This last point is not surprising in that Thomas Aquinas was a member of the Order of Preachers founded by St. Dominic. Chandler calls Aquinas the “greatest of medieval Christian thinkers” (p. 63). Thomas Aquinas put less emphasis on the private reading of scripture but insisted on the importance of the “mediation of teachers” and the ministry of those who spoke (preached) “to the minds of those who listen” (p. 66). Chandler notes that Thomas, in his office as magister in sacra pagina (master of the sacred page), the title of the professional theologian in his time (p. 64), had three offices, preaching, lecturing, and disputing (p. 69); it was the work of “disputation” as magister that separated Aquinas from both Origen and Augustine (p. 69).

Disputation was a method of learning in the universities. A question was presented to the students who produced arguments for and against the question; the answer was left to the master (p. 69). “Thomas’s understanding of sacra doctrina [sacred doctrine] betrays a sense of argumentation and persuasion”—both for the believer and the non-believer (p. 70). Yet while there was a change in the method of teaching with Thomas Aquinas, what was taught was still the “Origenist-Augustinian spiritual reading of scripture” that was “very much alive,” “practiced and transmitted” faithfully in the middle ages (p. 74).[2] Chandler points out that in Thomas’ theology of scripture there was a “ ‘thickening’ of literal sense…an important clarification of what the letter of the text ‘means’ and in what sense one may speak of the ‘intention’ of the author” of scripture (p. 76).

Reformation and Counter-Reformation:

Martin Luther: The next theologian after Aquinas in this book is Martin Luther. Mickey Mattox points out that Luther, an Augustinian monk came to the “revolutionary conclusion” that the “scriptures alone speak with certainty and bind the consciences of the faithful in obedience to the Word of God” (p. 95). Mattox points out that “Luther developed a distinctive approach” to scriptural theology; he also developed a “distinctive vocabulary, biblical exposition” which for Martin Luther was “the central arena of his own struggle for faith and faithfulness” as a Christian believer and teacher (p. 96).

Luther saw the “ ‘proper form’ of the Word of God [as] living human speech” in “sermons or in absolution by a pastor in the rite of private confession (which Luther retained)” (p. 98). Mattox notes that “Christian exegesis is for Luther a practice that presumes the Christian…at prayer, engaged in the struggle for faith and faithfulness…centered in the ritual practice of traditional Christianity—including…participation in the Church’s gathered worship and regular reception of Holy Communion” (p. 107). Biblical exegesis was “very much an ecclesial and communal act” for Luther (p. 107). He saw a careful study of the contributions of those faithful he considered authentic Christians as “taking advantage of the communion of saints” by “listening to the witness of faithful men and women whose experience of Law and Gospel parallels our own” (p. 107).

John Calvin: Randall Zachman’s summary of John Calvin’s scriptural theology is very readable and “layperson friendly,” without sacrificing any of the nuances of Calvin’s thought.

John Calvin (1509-1564) lived and worked in France and Switzerland. His concept of the scriptures was that they were “ ‘dictated’ by the Holy spirit to…human authors” (p. 115). Thus, Calvin taught that the scriptures were literally God’s word(s) dictated as such to men. When there was a question of the scriptures that were “delivered to the patriarchs in visions and dreams” (p. 116), Calvin solved the problem of the literal dictation of the scriptures by teaching that God had “ ‘put into their minds what they should…hand down to their posterity’ ” (p. 116).

But Calvin did not limit his concept of scripture’s being literally God’s word dictated to the learned. He claimed that “God’s teaching in scripture is accommodated to the capacity of the most unlearned of people” [emphasis added] (p. 117). However, Calvin did not go so far as to just “hand over” interpretation the scriptures to those who were not educated. He thought that the uneducated needed “interpreters” to “guide them in their reading”’ (p. 118). Interpreters were to be experienced in the knowledge of God. Specifically, the interpreters/teachers were the pastors of the local congregations (p. 118). In addition the pastors of the local congregation trained “future pastors and teachers of the Church, so that they might both teach doctrine drawn from the meaning of scripture and guide their congregations in the reading of scripture” (p. 118).

Calvin also believed in what might be called the maturation of the human race; that is, Calvin thought the “capacities of human beings develop over time as humanity progresses from infancy to greater maturity” (p. 119). Specifically, Calvin thought that “the doctrine taught to one age of humanity” could not simply be applied “directly to another age” (p. 119). Calvin believed it was necessary to “attend to the context in which the author wrote” (p. 120).

While Calvin emphasized the importance of the scriptures for the uneducated, he also thought that those who acted as interpreters of the scriptures must be learned in Hebrew and Greek so they would be able to compare “renditions of the best Hebrew and Greek codices available” (p. 120). Donald Prudlo in his article on the Counter-Reformation notes that the Latin Vulgate had been used in the Roman Church for nearly a thousand years, and over those thousand years “common interpretations…eventually became enshrined in…particular passages” and were repeated through the ages (pp. 135-136). It was such problems with the Latin Vulgate then that led Calvin to look to the “precedent of the Church fathers…who advised looking to the original languages” of the Bible (p. 120).[3] Calvin required those studying “sacred theology…be conversant with past and present interpretation of the Hebrew and Greek texts” (p. 121). Calvin also saw the pastor as having “two responsibilities to his congregation.” One was to teach them a kind of catechism and the elements of piety as taken from scripture. The second responsibility was to preach “entire books of scripture two or three verses at a time” (p. 122). Zachman notes ( and this reviewer agrees) that it is hard “to imagine what theology might look like were this [concern with the uneducated] the primary objective” of theological studies (p. 130).

Scripture and Theology in Early Modern Catholicism: This essay deals with the Counter-Reformation with a focus on the Council of Trent which took place from 1545-1563, approximately twenty-plus years after Martin Luther first took his protesting stand in 1521. Donald Prudlo notes: “Early Modern Catholicism was far more than simply Counter-Reformation; it was a paradoxical mixture of rigid conservatism and bold innovation” (p. 135). Prudlo emphasizes that the “reform” involved in the Counter-Reformation was “not merely a response, but a process that both antedated the Protestant Reformation and also went beyond it” (p. 135). A “sticking point” in the reform of scriptural theology was the Latin Vulgate. Nicholas of Lyra (1270-1340 C.E.) “articulated…the foundational importance of the literal sense” of biblical interpretation. He stated that only “the literal sense” of the scriptures could “proceed to the mystical interpretations that flowed from it” (p. 136).

Prudlo also points out that after the printing of the Gutenberg Bible which included the Latin Vulgate, over “six hundred printed editions of the Bible” appeared “before the first Protestant version appeared” (p. 136). Prudlo notes that many of these six hundred editions were in “vernacular languages…eighteen in various German dialects and twenty-four in French” (p. 136). Prudlo also states that the University of Alcala in Spain compiled a Bible called the “Complutensian Polyglot” which allowed scholars to “compare the Hebrew, Chaldee, Greek, and Latin Vulgate in a single edition” (p. 137).

Prudlo points out that Renaissance humanism led to the humanists becoming “experts in ancient languages” and that the resulting “critical efforts laid the groundwork for a shift in Catholic scriptural theology” (p. 136). Prudlo notes: “Many Catholic thinkers attempted to incorporate the humanist trend into scriptural theology” (p. 138); however, he also points out that “a deep distrust of humanism ran in some church circles” (p. 138). The “key interpretive principle for scripture [according to the conservative groups] was tradition. This idea was expressed by Latomus who “articulated one of the key themes in Counter-Reformation exegesis, namely that the Church is prior to Scripture and superior to it” (pp. 138-139).

When the Protestants forced the Church to “make some…authoritative decisions regarding the Bible and its place in the Church”; there were already within the Catholic Church conservative, innovative, and middle-of-the-road theologians, all holding a “wide variety of views and…different ways of approaching scripture” (pp. 141-142). Finally, the Church called the Council of Trent in 1546.

The Council took up three main issues: the biblical canon, the relationship between scripture and tradition, and the correct text of the Bible to be used by the Church. The Council decided, after much debate, to accept the books of the Florentine canon. Regarding scripture and tradition, the Council of Trent, again after much debate, decided that revelation was “ ‘contained in the written books and in the unwritten tradition’ ” (p. 143). Protestants had made Luther “the spokesman-in-chief for the principle” of sola scriptura [scripture alone] (p. 107). The Council “unequivocally rejected” the concept of sola scriptura (p. 143); unfortunately, this position “planted a wedge between Catholics and Protestants that remains to this day” (p. 143).

Regarding the text of the Bible, the Council decided the Latin Vulgate “was free from doctrinal (not textual) error” (p. 144). Although there were many, many issues and sub-issues hotly debated by the Council of Trent, “Scriptural theology in the Catholic[4] Church had three central aspects” (p. 148). Protestants were considered to be “invading” the Church, and scriptural theologians defended the Church against this “invasion.” The Church’s scriptural theologians were “engaged in discussion on the extent to which humanism ought to be appropriated.” Lastly, Catholics sought a “creative interaction with their established tradition “gained from the Church fathers and from the medievals” to discover “new ways for theology to go forward” (p. 148).



Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries:

Friedrich Schleiermacher: Jeffrey Hensley’s article on Friedrich Schleiermacher is readable but particular statements of his could be more clearly and precisely stated; yet this criticism is not to say his essay is an extremely difficult read.

Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768-1834) is noted to be the “most significant Protestant theologian between John Calvin and Karl Barth” (p. 165). Jeffrey Hensley notes Schleiermacher to be “modernity’s theologian” (p. 166). Schleiermacher was “resolutely uninterested in specifying the particular mechanics of inspiration…what he calls ‘utterly dead scholasticism’ ” (p. 174).

Instead Schleiermacher oriented his theology around what he termed the “ ‘feeling of absolute dependence’ ” (p. 166). He maintained that “even if the authority of scripture could be demonstrated through reason,” there was a “felt need for a ‘true living fellowship with Christ’ ” (p. 170). Schleiermacher grounded scriptural authority in the consideration of “how the apostles came to faith”; he maintained that the faith of the apostles was based on their belief in the prophecies about the Messiah in the Old Testament. Schleiermacher also held that because the apostles had faith in the Christ they knew as a person, “they applied…prophetic writings to his person and activity” (p. 170).

In addition Schleiermacher maintained that “each age of the Church has its own original thinking as guided by the living presence of the Spirit” (p. 172). Schleiermacher further maintained that scriptural inspiration did not mean that God told the authors of scripture “what they were to write in detail” (p. 173). Instead, Schleiermacher traced everything in the teaching of the authors of the New Testament “back to Christ and his impression on them.” Schleiermacher thought that inspiration was a “ ‘single individual bestowal of knowledge out of which the particulars evolve organically’ ” (p. 173). So Schleiermacher taught that the “authors of scripture were inwardly free to articulate, to produce their respective representations of that divine bestowal, of their faith in Christ as they were moved by the Holy Spirit” (p. 173).

Schleiermacher, though, did not accept that the Old Testament shared the “normative dignity or inspiration of the New” (p. 177). He claimed “the spirit of the Old Testament is not the same as the Spirit at work in the New Testament” (p. 177). In addition Schleiermacher maintained the Old Testament lacked the “ability to form Christian piety.” Specifically, Schleiermacher thought the Old Testament lacked the language and thought forms” of the New Testament (p. 177). Lastly, Schleiermacher thought the Old Testament lacked the “ability to function as a critical norm” because appeals to prove Christian doctrine through the Old Testament do not have a “clear proclamation of the New Testament to Christian doctrine” (p. 178). Schleiermacher thought that “it would be best if the Old Testament were placed as an appendix to the New so that it was clear that it was in no way necessary to work through the Old Testament in order to understand the New” (p. 178). Hensley concludes: “Schleiermacher’s greatest legacy concerning a contemporary doctrine of scripture is his challenge to think beyond…dichotomies” [the “ ‘either/or’ mindset…of the word-centered” versus the “piety-centered theologies of the twentieth century”] to a fuller “appreciation of how scripture’s rootedness in Christian piety need not count against its authority in shaping the future of that piety” (p. 179).

Karl Barth: This reviewer found the essay on Karl Barth to be most refreshing—perhaps for a most personal reason—Karl Barth’s teaching resonated with her the most.

Karl Barth (1886-1968) has been criticized by professional biblical scholars for “being an enemy of historical criticism” and of practicing a kind of biblical exegesis that is merely “ ‘ spiritual’ and achieved without scholarly research” (p. 184 and note 2, p. 196). Evangelical theologians think Barth leaves “an opening for subjectivism in his treatment of biblical authority and inspiration” (p. 184). Meanwhile, liberal theologians accuse Barth of a scriptural theology “that does not…engage the concerns of the world” (p. 184). Even Barth’s supporters find critical aspects to his scriptural interpretation. Mary Kathleen Cunningham notes that all these critiques of his work “should alert us to the complexity of his thought and preclude facile characterizations of his approach to scripture” (p. 184).

Barth insisted that revelation, scripture, and preaching were “one form of the threefold Word of God” and maintained this threefold aspect was the only accurate analogy to the Holy Trinity. Barth thought each aspect of the threefold Word of God reflected the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit respectively (p. 185). Barth also maintained that “the Bible becomes God’s Word.” The concept of “ ‘being-in-becoming’ of scripture” reflected and extended Barth’s “decision to ‘actualize’ the doctrine of the Incarnation and to speak of the ‘being-in-becoming’ of Jesus Christ” (p. 186).

Barth insisted the canon was unified and must be read as such; he thought the “goal of [biblical] scholarship should be radically reoriented” (p. 187). Barth believed the “particular identity of Jesus Christ defines the concepts associated with Him, and not the reverse” (p. 187). Barth maintained he had no christological principal, method, or dogma; he said “in each theological question” he attempted to orient himself “afresh” to “Jesus Christ himself” (note 25, p. 199). Such orientation, then, reflected “Barth’s commitment to the priority of the particular over the general” (p. 187).

In practice Barth’s approach led to a scriptural approach that departed “from the standard techniques of professional biblical scholars” (p. 188). Barth assumed the “Bible means what it says”; but he understood this meaning “what It says” in a way that contrasted “with the views of biblical literalists” (p. 189). Hans Frei (perhaps a kindred spirit) noted that for Barth the “ ‘meaning’ of the biblical stories does not lie in their reference to historical events” (p. 189). Instead, Cunningham points out that the meaning of scripture according to Barth, is in “the interaction of character, context, and circumstance” (p. 189).

Cunningham notes that Barth’s hermeneutical principles were distinguished by his “theological commitments, his christocentricity, particularism, and actualism” (p. 194). Cunningham notes: Such a theological approach to scripture “can, in the hands of a skilled practitioner such as Barth, yield results that are both captivating and enduring” (p. 195). However, Cunningham also points out that Barth’s approach has “an inherent danger” (p. 195). This danger is that “the urge to remain current will lead to distortion of the Gospel, which can become captive to contemporary culture” (p. 195). But Barth believed that his position of allowing the Bible to clarify our questions and not our questions to clarify the Bible answered this danger and enabled “us to avoid what he saw as the perils of cultural Christianity” (p. 195).

In particular Barth’s perspective provided a “necessary corrective” to the “lethal adaptation of the Christian message to Nazi anti-Semitic ideology” (pp. 195-196). Barth’s position can certainly be understood as he was “one of the founders of the Confessing Church, which resisted the capitulation of the ‘German Christians’ to Nazi propaganda” in the mid-1930s. Barth’s “vigorous disavowal of cultural Christianity serves as a firewall against the potentially corrosive effects of a societal misappropriation of the Christian Gospel” (p. 196).

Hans Urs von Balthasar:[5] W.T. Dickens’ writing of the material on Hans Urs von Balthasar was unnecessarily complex; that is, the structure of paragraphs and sentences, even the vocabulary chosen, was written in such a way as to make von Balthasar’s theory obscure, complexly stated, and thus not a simple “read.” It was necessary at times to say, “What does this sentence mean?” Having to stop the flow of reading to rephrase the meaning of a sentence or even a paragraph does not induce the layperson to read an essay or book. This type of complex writing is done to impress one’s peers rather than to aid in the general understanding of the knowledge one is trying to impart. There is an “old saw” that applies to this type of writing: “Never use a two or three syllable word where a five or six syllable word will do.” Dickens’ rather convoluted writing in general contributed to making von Balthasar’s concepts more difficult to understand than likely they are.

W. T. Dickens states: “Hans Urs von Balthasar was not a systematic [emphasis in original] theologian.” In addition Dickens notes that von Balthasar’s theological work is spread over multi-volumes of work and is “rambling, repetitive, occasionally contradictory and…not organized along traditional doctrinal lines”[6] (p. 203). Dickens states, perhaps forewarns: “Summarizing and evaluating von Balthasar’s doctrine of scripture…is…a matter of reasoned judgment, of teasing out of a sprawl of abiding convictions and practices” (p. 203). Since this is the case with von Balthasar’s work, it seems that such a situation then requires of the essay writer a clear attempt to clarify for the layperson von Balthasar’s concepts of scriptural theology rather than obscure them with unnecessarily intricate writing.

Only three of von Balthasar’s ideas regarding scriptural interpretation will be mentioned here. Dickens notes specifically that von Balthasar thought scriptural interpretation had three “warrants for the necessity of scriptural interpretation” (P. 204). What does von Balthasar mean here? Dickens does not tell us if “warrants” means that von Balthasar affirmed these three principles or thought of them as mandates, decrees, or any one of the various other meanings of “warrants.” The first of these “warrants” was von Balthasar’s “doctrine of Scripture [which] has much to offer Christians concerned to articulate how the Bible can function authoritatively at the beginning of the third millennium” (p. 203). Von Balthasar believed that because of “its christological source and orientation, creation provides God with the vocabulary by which God communicates God’s nature and will” (p. 204). But according to von Balthasar, “God’s self-revelation is not to be identified” with the media of creation but is expressed in the two natures, human and divine of Christ (p. 204). Dickens would have done well to explain both what von Balthasar meant by the “media” of creation and by “God’s self-revelation” being expressed in the human and divine natures of Christ. Is this “media” of creation nature in its various manifestations? Are human beings included in the “media” of creation? What does it mean, really, to say God reveals Himself in the human and divine natures of Christ other than to say the obvious that Christ was both God and man? This reviewer was left wondering what she missed; how she might have misread this statement. Although Dickens goes on to elaborate on this concept, the elaboration is not any clearer than the sentence quoted above. Is the problem here one of von Balthasar’s stratospherically intellectual writing, or is the problem that Dickens does not express von Balthasar’s thought in a way the layperson can understand?

Von Balthasar also maintained that biblical interpretation is one of the “principal modes by which Christians” are to glorify God and that biblical interpretation is one of the chief means of “divine and human interaction that God wants of God’s covenant partners” (p. 204). Dickens notes that von Balthasar “urged each Christian to engage the scriptures…in order to discern the purpose for which God places the texts in the reader’s own unique sociocultural circumstances” (p. 205). Could this sentence be explained by saying that von Balthasar thought that each Christian should read and use the scriptures to recognize, identify, distinguish what it is that God wants of each Christian in his/her life? If this is the meaning of von Balthasar’s statement, Dickens could have made a very powerful argument very simply for the place of scriptural interpretation in each Christian’s life.

The last of von Balthasar’s teachings regarding scriptural interpretation is stated in Dickens’ words: “Balthasar saw a polyvalence of the scriptures just mentioned as a result of the inexhaustible richness of the subject matter, namely, the Trinitarian love of God” (p. 205). “What does this mean?” Does this sentence mean that the scriptures should be interpreted because their unlimited richness is based on the unlimited love of God for man which then acts as a toxin, a vaccine, against the poisons of society?

Another problem with Dickens’ writing: He explains a tenet von Balthasar holds in his scriptural theology and then presents the pros and cons of the tenet. While this is a valid approach, somehow this method of explaining von Balthasar’s theology had a strange effect. Just as the reader became very interested in a particular point von Balthasar held, she would be forced to consider the argument for and against the point. This juxtaposition of pros and cons jarred the thought of the reader and the inclination to concentrate on the positive aspects of von Balthasar’s scriptural theology.

In the end it was exhausting trying to determine precisely what it was von Balthasar stated in his scriptural theology. The question then arose: Where is the problem here? In von Balthasar’s writing or in Dickens’ explanation of von Balthasar’s writing? One would think that in an introductory book, von Balthasar’s concepts could be more clearly explained. The fact that von Balthasar’s doctrine is spread over numerous volumes and does not have a “tidy summary” (p. 203) puts the burden on the scholar to summarize the theologian’s thought; this Dickens does, but his summary, unfortunately, suffers from its own version of the use of jargon that does not help to clarify von Balthasar’s thought. Once again, the “old saw” at work.

Hans Frei: Mike Higton, the writer of this section notes, that Frei “devoted [himself] to identifying and undoing specific knots in which he believed modern theologians and exegetes had succeeded in tying themselves.” Reading Higton’s attempt at summarizing and explicating Frei’s ideas was “tough slugging.” After having read some passages as many as six times, this reader found herself saying, “What’s wrong with me that I cannot grasp the ideas Higton is stating here.” Then, Higton quoted Frei himself; and suddenly, the concepts were clear and easily understood. Did Higton himself inadvertently express Frei’s ideas in the “knots” that Frei himself had attempted to unravel; or was the “old saw” at work again? This reader would categorize herself in the ranks of an ordinary layperson; she is of the opinion that someone not deeply steeped in theology would find this chapter on Frei one that a layperson would find too difficult to read and thus only too easily avoid.

Part of the complexity of Frei’s theory of scriptural interpretation may reside in his background. Hans Frei (1922-1988) was the son of a “secular Jewish family” born in Berlin. As anti-Semitism increased in Germany, he was “sent away to a Quaker school in England and then emigrated with his family to New York.” It is not clear when he became a Christian, but the introduction indicates Frei then “studied theology at Yale.” He eventually became a Baptist minister, then an Episcopal priest (p. 220).

Frei’s scriptural theology had to have been a product of (at the very least be influenced by) his diverse religious background. In addition, might Frei be a forerunner of the developments in what are described in the last section of this book, “Contextual Theologies of Scripture.” This term “contextual theologies” deals with developments in scriptural theology in the latter half of the twentieth century into the twenty-first century, specifically, the increase in female theologians, and an acknowledgement, after centuries, of the specific African-American approach to scriptural theology. This is not to say Frei even was aware of these last two groups but is meant to wonder if he was the forerunner of/reflected the start of a new “sprout” in living scripture.

Now to Higton’s summary of Frei’s work. Higton states “Frei claimed that precritical readers of certain ‘history-like’ narratives in the Bible normally assumed that such narratives portrayed real historical events” (p. 221). Does this mean that stories in scripture are taken to be real history by people who do not know better? “Precritical” cannot refer to theological thought before Origen as by Frei’s own statement he is attempting to untie “knots” some theologians had themselves tied. The term “precritical” is also used in many other places throughout this essay. This reader is at a loss to understand Higton’s use of just this one term, to say nothing of the other complex concepts Higton “explains.” Then, Higton quotes Frei on the resurrection: “ ‘Of course, we think something happened, but how it transpired we won’t know in this life or history. All we know is that it is coherent with God’s being and faithfulness in creating, sustaining and saving us in life and death’ ” (pp. 234-235). This is a quite clear and understandable statement by Frei. The conclusion can only be: Better to read Frei himself than this essay about Frei’s work. Once again, the “old saw” at work.

Contextual Theologies of Scripture:

Tradition and Traditions: Graham Ward notes there never will be “a systematic theology to which all Christians past, present, and future concur” (p. 257). Ward cogently and clearly explains the “dynamic heart” at the center of the development of tradition (p. 259). Ward concisely, in easily readable terms, explains the difference between conventions, customs, and tradition, illuminating that tradition “is never monolithic”; tradition “always encounters multiplicity, plurality” (p. 250). An excellent chapter, written clearly and cogently and easily readable.

Scripture, Feminism, and Sexuality: As a general comment, it would be well to avoid “feminist” and substitute the word “female” throughout the discussion about theologians who are women. “Feminist” carries with it strident connotations and approaches that sometimes alienate other scholars. However, since the word “feminist” is used throughout this essay by Pamela Cochran, this is the word used in the review of this chapter.

Regarding feminist theology, Pamela Cochran notes the various approaches feminist theologians take to scripture—rejection, revision, and reform.

Some feminist theologians take a stance of rejection of the “authority of Christian scripture entirely” (p. 266). Mary Daly is one of these theologians. These feminist theologians of rejection attempt to “affirm the female body by creating a positive validation of women’s will and women’s bonds with one another” (p. 267). It seems that such a stance rejects half of the human race—the same objection with which the feminists began. This type of approach to scriptural theology is equally as bad as the masculine rejection of a female approach to scriptural theology

Revision feminist theologians, of whom Rosemary Radford Ruether is one, would “transform Christianity from an authoritative religion to a prophetic one” (p. 270). Other feminist/revisionist theologians such as Elizabeth Schussler Fiorenza would “locate revelation in the present community of faith, not in past texts” (p. 271). Ruether and Schussler Fiorenza would not exclude men from their theology. Ruether would use “the prophetic messianic principle” which she “defines as a ‘rejection of every elevation of one social group against others…every use of God to justify social domination and subjugation’ ” (p. 270). Schussler Fiorenza notes that for women the “community is women-church” (p. 271) and would place “women-church at the center of biblical interpretation” to safeguard “women’s power over their own spiritual lives” (p. 271).

Among the feminist revision theologians Cochran notes: “Women of color, including African-Americans…have adopted the term ‘womanist’ to describe themselves and their work” (p. 272). These womanist theologians “seek to situate their theological explorations in the particular experience of the community” (p. 272). Jacquelyn Grant, representative of this group locates “the primary source for black women’s faith in God’s direct revelation” (p. 272). (For a related discussion see “Scripture in the African-American Christian Tradition” below.)

Feminist theologians of reform themselves seem unable to come to a consensus. Cochran states: “A number of Catholic feminists…acknowledge the Bible’s authority alongside the Church’s history of doctrine and interpretation” (p. 275). However, this group of feminists has split over the attempt by some of them to include the concept of same-sex sexuality in their theological position. (See pp. 274-275).

Have these feminist theologians allowed themselves to be caught in the trap of being linked inextricably with limiting the discussion of sexuality to a discussion of lesbianism and homosexuality? Feminist theology and homosexuality, whether female or male, are two separate topics that require two separate approaches. At first thought it seemed that “sexuality” would deal with the specific contribution feminists as women can and do make to scriptural theology. Instead somehow “sexuality” turned into a discussion of the conflation of feminism and lesbianism/homosexuality. These two issues of scriptural theology and sexual orientation should be dealt with separately. Sexual orientation has become a matter for science more than for theology.

Another, perhaps tangential, issue is the grossly neglected issue of the effect on men of the completely patriarchal approach to theology. This situation is addressed to some extent by Latin American (mujerista) feminist theologian, Ida Maria Isasi-Diaz: She critiques “machismo, the patriarchal nature of Hispanic families, and irresponsible sex” by which Isasi-Diaz means “ ‘the psychological and emotional trauma that sexuality outside a committed relationship” causes. Rather than approach this multi-faceted topic from the standpoint of the female only, one would like to see included in this topic a discussion of the effects on the male of this cultural stance that may pervade the Latin-American culture more than it does other cultures but that does not escape general society and its men. Too much emphasis on the feminine in females leads to a stunting of growth in women; too much emphasis on the masculine leads equally to a stunting of growth in men. Feminist theologians would do well to address this issue from both the female and male standpoints. The patriarchal hierarchy and its refusal to admit to the inclusion of the thoughts of feminist theologians for critical evaluation and debate certainly does not address the issue of the male’s growth as a person in its theology to say nothing of the effect it has on Christian females.

One last thought: This reader wondered if the women theologians included in this essay were “campaigning” for a place for “The Goddess”/the feminine aspect of God in theology.

Scripture in the African-American Christian Tradition: A well-written and easily understood essay by Lewis Baldwin and Stephen Murphy explains the use of “creative adaptation” in scriptural interpretation in the African-American Christian church. These scholars explain that African-American biblical scholars “looked to the Bible as a guide to God’s interaction with the world” (p. 284). Baldwin and Murphy note that in the stories of the Old Testament, slaves in America “found a wealth of characters, images, and events with which to interpret their own lives and experiences and to tell their story” (p. 283). For example, these scholars point out that in spirituals sung by the slaves they “framed their plight in terms of Exodus: The Hebrews who escaped bondage in Egypt and safely cross[ed] through the Red Sea” spoke of the slaves’ own bondage and desire for freedom (pp. 283-284).

Baldwin and Murphy point out that the “domestic slave trade…deprived African-Americans of a monogamic family unit [and] African-American churches took shape not merely as religious groups, but also as social institutions. Without a stable family, slaves looked to religious bodies for mutual support against the splintering and dehumanizing forces of slavery” (pp. 284-285). Balwin and Murphy also note that “white Christians…emphasized [to the slaves] those New Testament texts that encourage[d] docility, submission, and patience in suffering” (p. 285). But the slaves used not only the story of the Hebrew Exodus to speak for liberation, they also used the story of the rebellion of Samson against the Philistines as a “call for social justice sounded by the prophets and Jesus Christ” (p. 285). They note that most of the slaves were illiterate, not allowed to learn to read; they “could not search the Bible for themselves.” But the slaves who did learn the stories “spread them verbally” to others” (pp. 289-290). Baldwin and Murphy trace the manner of scriptural interpretation through the history of the African-American as slave in America to present time. These scholars point out that the scriptural thought of Martin Luther King, Jr., blended Old and New Testament themes; King used the stories of the Old Testament and blended them with “the brotherly love emphasized in the New Testament” (pp. 293-294). King was a master at this kind of biblical interpretation. Baldwin and Murphy emphasize that African-American Christian biblical interpretation was “grounded in an emphasis on the Bible’s clear condemnation of oppression in this world,” a theme too often neglected by white American Christians (p. 297).

This essay on the African-American Christian tradition was an inspiring “read.”

Postmodern Scripture: Gerard Loughlin has written an essay that seems to be meant to bring scriptural theology into the information/virtual age. Yet, this reviewer found this essay “virtual”—that is, questioning exactly what, if anything Loughlin was willing to admit as real. He seemed to have a tendency to keep statements “fuzzy,” e.g.: “The Bible is interconstitutive of revelation but it is not itself revelation” (p. 307). Loughlin explains this sentence means: “The Bible itself, abstracted from the life of the community in which it lives, is not and cannot be inspired” (p. 307).

Loughlin says in true “virtual-ese”: “To enter the world of the Bible-become-scripture is to enter the community that reads the scripture as that which delineates the world of the community” (p. 307). Yet Loughlin does make a clear and cogent point when he says: “While not everything in the scriptural narratives refers to real events, the stories still serve to render the truth of the historical events to which they do refer” (p. 313). For example, Loughlin notes the story of the birth of Jesus. Perhaps not every detail of Bethlehem, manger, angels, shepherds, wise men may be true; but there is no doubt that Jesus was born and the accompanying stories affirm his identity (p. 313).

Loughlin notes that these stories “express not only that Jesus matters, but why he matters” [emphasis in original] (p. 313). Finally, Loughlin notes that “revelation is not the recollection of a past appearance…but the moment when we see God’s future for the world…calling us forward” (p. 320).

Conclusion:

Justin Holcomb as editor accomplished a real feat: He assembled scholars to take the readers of this book from the beginning of systematized scriptural theology that started with Origen, through the permutations of universities, the Reformation, the Counter-Reformation, the Modernism of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, through to the present day developments of feminist theology, an explanation of African-American scriptural exegesis which has been in use for hundreds of years, yet perhaps unacknowledged by the mainstream of scriptural exegetes, through to scriptural interpretation in the third millennium.

Frankly, this book ran “hot and cold.” Most of the sections were very readable for the layperson (which this reviewer most certainly is); these sections were written in such a way that the explanation and explication of the ideas of the theologian discussed were clearly, precisely, and carefully stated so a layperson could easily grasp the individual writer’s overview and explanation of the theological ideas of the theologian representative of the period in question. Other sections, while not stratospherically intellectual and theological, were couched in less clear terminology and sentences, leaving this reader wondering what exactly was meant by the author of a particular essay.

One other point of some “contention”: There were times when this reviewer found herself wondering why other renowned theologians were not included in this book. Yet, by definition this book is “a Comparative Introduction.” Therefore, necessarily, the editor had to pick and choose which theologians to include—this book is both an “introduction” and “comparative.” One simply has to leave the choice of theologians to the editor. After reading the entire book, this reviewer said with surprised delight, that the editor chose well. In fact, the chapter on the Counter-Reformation, the chapter on current scriptural theology as expounded by feminist theologians, and the chapter on African-American scriptural tradition covered many theologians in their respective areas.

This book would be particularly useful for the layperson who has a rudimentary knowledge of scriptural theology (in which category this reviewer places herself). Justin Holcomb has chosen well in selecting representative theologians from the very beginnings of the development of scriptural theology at the end of the second century C.E. through to present times which are termed “Postmodern scripture.” This last period is described by Gerard Loughlin as one where it is impossible to “retrieve the premodern,” where one “cannot undo…the loss of innocence that comes from eating the fruit of historical criticism” (p. 306) which is the situation in which present day Christians of the information/virtual age find themselves.

Notes:

[1] This reviewer does wish to note that in this information age, the Internet can be a resource for research and reference. The information on the Internet can be of varying quality, the same as in books. It should be noted also that there is solid research on the Internet that when quoted should be acknowledged. In particular reference should have been made in the introductory section to the chapter on Origen of Edward Moore’s article on Origen published in the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Several sentences are lifted whole from Moore’s article and one or two other sentences are paraphrased, but obviously plagiarized.

[2] In light of Ehrman’s book, Misquoting Jesus, this reviewer wonders just how faithfully the scriptures were transmitted through the almost eight hundred years between Augustine and Thomas Aquinas. In addition see the material on the Latin Vulgate in the section on “Scripture and Theology in Early Modern Catholicism” below.

[3] In fact Origen himself did massive work on the scriptures, comparing the various Hebrew and Greek versions of the Old Testament that dated back to the Septuagint. For further information on Origen’s massive works on the Hebrew and Greek versions of the Old Testament see The Septuagint with Apocrypha: Greek and English, Sir Lancelot C.L. Brenton, Hendrickson Publishers, U.S.A., ninth printing, 2001, “Introduction,” pp. v-vi.

[4] This writer notes that it seems it was some time within the period of the Reformation/Counter-Reformation that the term Catholic Church came into use, distinguishing the two groups of Christians—the Protestants and the Catholics. It is not clear whether this term came into use with the advent of Martin Luther’s protesting teachings or whether it came into use some time after Martin Luther was condemned in 1521.

[5] An extremely small but annoying misuse of a word that has become a “pet peeve” of this reviewer appears in the introduction to the material on von Balthasar: It is noted that he studied philosophy and theology as a Jesuit “novitiate.” The word “novice” is the person in training; the word “novitiate” is the place the novice resides.

[6] It should be noted that this description may prove von Balthasar is in good company. This same description could well be applied to the work of Clement of Alexandria.



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