CHAPTER 1
EQUIPMENT FOR THE JOURNEY
WHEN OUR DAUGHTERS WERE LITTLE we lived for six years in Melbourne, on the southeastern tip of Australia, but our families lived in Sydney, over five hundred miles to the north. So every year, for six years, we would make the trip to Sydney to have Christmas with the familyâa twelve-hour car ride in the middle of an Australian summer, with three daughters crammed into the back seat, and then twelve hours back again. As much as they loved their grandparents, every year at least one of the girls (and sometimes my wife) would ask, âDo we have to go?â And yes, we did. Every year. These car trips are not, I must say, among my fondest memories. These were trips to be survived and endured, not enjoyed. Survival, in fact, was the best that we could hope for. What made survival possible for me and my wife (and for our kids) was careful planning. We made sure that we were well equipped for the journey. We had all our stops mapped out, snacks and little presents to give out every hour, story tapes to play, strategies for ignoring âAre we there yet?,â and on and on. And every year we got there and back again safely, family intact. It was all about preparation, making sure that we knew where we were going, how we were going to get there, and what we would need along the way. Itâs the same for our journey to the strange land of the OT. Thatâs what this chapter is about. I will give you a map of the territory (a framework for understanding the OT and its ethics) and say something about how to get there (look at basic issues in interpreting the Bible). But first, I should deal with my daughtersâ question, âDo we have to go?â
Many Christians would answer, âNo, we donât.â In fact, they would say we that shouldnât, that the OT is too strange, its ethics too far from us and our circumstances, too contaminated by violence and misogyny, to be of any benefit. And after all, they might add, we are Christians, and Christ is the end of the law (Rom 10:4). A second group would disagree vehemently, arguing that the OT is Godâs word, and that is all that matters: âGod said it, I believe it, that settles it.â Unless Jesus or the apostles have told us otherwise, everything in the OT Scriptures is binding on us as Christians. A third group takes a mediating position, maintaining that although the OT is Christian Scripture, we need to think carefully about what it meant then and how we use it now. Yes, this is a journey we need to go on, but itâs a more complicated one than some might think. (I guess itâs fairly obvious which is my view.) Clearly, these three views differ on whether this is a journey that we should undertake and, if it is, what route we should take. So, before we head off on our journey, letâs first make sure that we have to go and think a bit about how we might get there.
THE MORAL AUTHORITY OF THE OLD TESTAMENT
The idea that the OT has no bearing on Christians, that the God of the OT is not really the same God as the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, has a long pedigree going back to the second century A.D. The Christian theologian Marcion believed that the God of the OT was an inconsistent, violent, repressive being. While acknowledging the creator god, Marcion believed that this god did a poor job of creating the world, and that the fractured nature of current reality reflected the nature of this god. He also saw this god as harsh and judgmental, as imposing contradictory and burdensome rules on people and ruthlessly punishing them for any breaking of the rules. Marcionâs solution was to propose a radical distinction between Yahweh, the creator and lawgiver of the OT, and the one true God revealed in the person of Christ. Christ, in fact, was seen as the one who redeemed us from the power of the second-class OT god and showed us a different God, a God of mercy and grace. As a result, Marcion and his followers rejected the OT outright (along with most of the NT, other than some of Paulâs letters and his own version of Luke). According to Marcion, the OT had no role to play in Christian life and faith. Some of this may sound familiar; it certainly is echoed in many comments that I hear today about the OT and its relation to Jesus and the NT. It is a view, however, that was rejected by the early church, which excommunicated Marcion for his teachings.
Marcionâs views have reappeared periodically in Christian history and are reflected, in my view, in the work of the eighteenth-century German theologian Friedrich Schleiermacher and his followers. Admittedly, Schleiermacher was not an avowed Marcionite (as those who accept Marcionâs teachings are known). However, he very clearly distinguished Christian faith and theology from anything related to Judaism, including its Scriptures. His reasoning was careful and intricate, but the details need not detain us here. What is clear is that for Schleiermacher, the proper subject of Christian theology (and so ethics) is Christian faith and experience, as distinct from any other religion. That, in turn, meant that he rejected not only all OT Scriptures as an authority for Christian faith and theology but also anything in the NT that merely reflected Jewish (i.e., OT) ideas. It was, after all, only what was distinctly Christian that was relevant for Christian theology and ethics.
Others take a radically different line. For them, the authority granted to the OT by Jesus and the authors of the NT means that it must be authoritative for us. If it was Godâs word then, it is Godâs word now, and only the author has the right to change it, only the lawgiver is entitled to bring in a new law. Jesus himself stated very clearly that he came not to abolish but rather to fulfill the law (Matt 5:17â19). This means that the only OT commands that are not binding on us are those specifically superseded in the NT. Thus, for instance, we are no longer bound by the food laws outlined in the OT (e.g., Lev 11), since Jesus has rendered all foods clean (Mark 7:1â23; cf. Acts 10); we no longer have to sacrifice animals (e.g., Lev 1), since Jesusâ once-for-all sacrifice has made the old sacrificial system obsolete (Heb 7â10). Other OT laws, however, are fully binding and are to govern a Christianâs conscience and practice.
The theonomist (or Christian Restoration) movement is a current example of this line of thinking. Theonomists argue that the law of God ought to be the law of the land. Old Testament law, except where clearly negated by later NT teaching, ought to be the basis of our civil and criminal law. Thus, adultery, homosexual practice, and so on ought not just be considered morally wrong; they ought to be illegal. Furthermore, OT law gives us the basis not only of legislation but also of punishment, including capital punishment where relevant. So, for instance, certain sexual crimes ought to be punishable by death (although blasphemy should not, given theonomist belief in the NTâs teaching of freedom of religious conscience). Here I need to stress that theonomists do not seek to impose this law on a reluctant populace; rather, they seek to bring people to faith in Christ who will then voluntarily adopt the theonomic ideal. Nonetheless, according to theonomists, we should not just travel to the strange land of the OT; we ought to take up residence there.
Theonomic Reformed Approach to Law and Gospel
Both of these views are, however, fatally flawed. The first, which we could call the âtotal rejectionâ viewpoint, is difficult to reconcile with what NT authors say and how they say it. For them the OT clearly functioned as Scripture, as Godâs authoritative word, as can be seen in, for instance, the frequency with which Paul quotes the OT in Romans. The second viewpoint, which we could call âtotal acceptance,â also fails to do justice to the way in which NT authors used the OT, as well as how the law worked in the OT itself (we will see more on this later).
Here it is worth noting that although NT writers refer frequently to the OT, they never speak of it as binding on governments or use OT law as the basis for new forms of government. Paul, for instance, would have had a perfect opportunity to do so in Rom 13; it is striking that he doesnât. Whatever role the OT plays in Christian ethics, there is no evidence that NT authors saw OT law as binding on the state. Furthermore, Paul seemed to see Christians as free from the constraints of the law so as to be bound to a deeper obedience to God in the power of the Spirit (e.g., Gal 5:1â15). That, surely, rules out all forms of legalism. There are other points of view that, though less extreme, cluster around the poles of total rejection of the OT as a source of Christian ethics (e.g., classical dispensational theologies) or total acceptance (e.g., some, more legalistic, versions of Seventh Day Adventist tradition). In my view, they are subject to criticisms similar to the ones that I have outlined here. So, we should neither abandon the journey (total rejection of the OT) nor seek to emigrate (total acceptance); rather, we should prepare to visit this strange land. Shortly, we will look at what we should do when we get there; for now, however, we need to think about the journey itself. It is time to think about the task of biblical interpretation and related ideas regarding the nature of Scripture.
HERMENEUTICS: HOW DO WE INTERPRET THE BIBLE?
The issues that we have looked at so far are, broadly speaking, issues of hermeneutics. âHermeneuticsâ is one of those words that âinsidersâ in the game of biblical studies like to bandy around and that completely mystify âoutsiders.â Perhaps thatâs the point of some of the jargon that we use. Let me demystify the word. Hermeneutics, simply put, is the task of understanding how people communicate and discern meaning (especially in texts). Admittedly, what most of us are concerned with is practical exegesisâgetting the meaning out of a text by reading a passage and understanding it. Hermeneutics of Scripture is a theoretical discipline but one closely related to the practicalities of reading and interpreting texts. In fact, I suggest, all interpretation assumes a hermeneutic, be it explicit or implicit. Hermeneutics guides what questions you put to a text, what answers you think it can give, and so on. Theory shapes practice (and vice versa).
But, you might say, surely we can do without hermeneutics. Youâve been reading your Bible for years and only just heard the word. On the other hand, you might say that looking into hermeneutics means that youâve been doing it all wrong, that what youâve been doing with the Bible is naĂŻve and illegitimate. Or you might feel that you need to have a university degree to read your Bible correctly. Some writers in the field certainly seem to imply that without a lot of specialized knowledge and access to tools of biblical criticism, our readings of Scripture are questionable at best. I am not one of them (I am neither a hermeneutician nor the son of a hermeneutician [apologies to Amos 7:14]). As I see it, hermeneutics is not about throwing away everything you already know and all you currently do; rather, hermeneutics is about seeking to understand how and why your current method and practice work and perhaps learning to improve upon them.
Let me draw an analogy: the relationship between hermeneutics and interpreting a text is like the relationship between (civil) engineering and building a bridge. Bridges can be built by people who have never studied engineering, and frequently they have beenâwhatâs more, these bridges stay up. People learn what to do by a process of trial and error (if it collapses, clearly you need to try something different) and by being taught by others who knew what they were doing (this one fell, and that one stayed up, so do it that way). The problem is that some designs work only in particular circumstances: a simple arched bridge made of stone may work over a stream; you can even use a series of arches to cross a large river. This method wonât work, however, if you want to cross Sydney Harbor. For that, you need a completely new kind of bridge. Engineering helps you know not only what design to use and whereâexperience can do thatâbut also why a particular design works. This means that if you are faced with a problem that you or your teachers havenât encountered before, you can go back to first principles and figure out a solution. It can even help you improve on an old design, eliminating faults and streamlining the design. So it is with hermeneutics. People can and do read their Bibles and understand them without ever having studied hermeneutics or even knowing the word. (You are now among the blessed elite who know the term and what it means!) Knowing a little about hermeneutics can help you understand how and why particular interpretations work and give you skills to deal with texts and issues that you have not encountered before and ones that you have not adequately dealt with in the past.
I admit that hermeneutics can get fairly involved, given the nature of some of the issues that it has to deal with. But engineering can get fairly complicated too. My engineering friends at university used to regularly curse something called âstatics,â a mind-bending subject dealing with the rules governing the forces producing an equilibrium between material bodies way beyond the capabilities of a mere medical student such as I was at the time. Hermeneutics looks at issues related to the nature of meaning: where it resides (if anywhere); whether it is fixed and, if so, how and by whom; whether it is created in the interpretive process or inscribed by authors and discovered by readers; how the things that we already believe (our presuppositions) influence both how we read texts and what meaning we find there. Weâll need to look at some of these issues as we go along; others we can happily ignore.
Nonetheless, hermeneutics is an important matter for us to consider, given that it deals with something central to Christian life and faith: reading the Bible. There are many legitimate ways that we as Christians use the Bible. We use it in our worship services, shaping our communities and their underlying values; we use it to shape our prayers and our imaginations; we use it for guidance; we allow Godâs Spirit to use it to challenge and enrich us. The philosopher Nicholas Wolterstorff has argued that one of the most important things we do with the Bible (something, I suggest, that informs or should inform most of our other uses of the Bible) is to read it for what he calls âdivine discourseâ; that is, we read the Bible so as to understand what God is saying to us by way of it. That, I suggest, is one thing that lies behind our calling the Bible âGodâs word.â But now things get a little bit complicated, for the Bible doesnât come to us as a word from on high, untouched by human hands (or lips); rather, the Bible is Godâs word to us through human words. That means two things: first, we need to understand what the human authors were saying; second, we then have to understand what God was and is saying through them. We will look at each of these in turn.
When looking at the role of the human author, we should recall what texts are and why people write them. Texts are linguistic objects, produced by persons in particular contexts, addressed to other persons in order to achieve particular purposes. Let me unpack that. Texts are particular instances of human use of language; they are a species of communication. People use language with particular purposes in mind, generally involving other people and their actions or beliefs. Even if the purpose is simply to entertain, language has a point, a personal purpose. People do things with words. Generally, for these purposes to be achieved, the language needs to successfully communicate; messages need to be received as well as sent. But also, texts are different from other kinds of communication: they are not just language; they also are objects. I can pick up my copy of Margaret Atwoodâs The Handmaidâs Tale and look at it, read it, give it to my daughter, and so on. (That is true even with electronic texts. They may not have the same physical presence that a book has, but somewhere electrons are configured in such a way as to produce words on a screen. They are, so to speak, virtual objects.) What does the idea of texts as linguistic objects mean for the task of biblical interpretation?
We need to keep in mind that the Bible is a text or, more properly speaking, a coherent collection of texts. This collection of texts was produced by persons (including God) in particular contexts and was addressed to other persons (again, including God) in order to achieve particular purposes. These purposes include promises (e.g., Gen 12; John 14), warnings (e.g., Deut 8; Heb 5:11â6:12), relationships (e.g., Exod 19:5â6; John 21:25), praises (e.g., Pss 146â150; Eph 1:3â14), instructions (e.g., Deut 6; 1 Thess 4:13â5:11), and truth claims (e.g., Isa 44:9â20; Acts 2:14â36). All these are things that people did with these words. Now, you may be puzzled by the idea that the Bible speaks to God. Is it not, after all, Godâs word to us? Is it not God speaking to us? Yes it is. But it is also a record of human beings speaking to God. Think, for instance, of Psalms, or large sections of Job, or important bits of Paulâs letters, or, for that matter, Jesusâ own prayers in John 17. All of these passages are addressed to God. Is that not what prayer is about? They are, nonetheless, Godâs words to us, for they are prayers that God has endorsed for our use. These are prayers to which, if y...