It strikes me that biblical scholars are much more likely to use the word probably than preachers, who seem to know exactly what God meant in Scripture and means for us today. I’ve often wondered that scholarship introduces such uncertainty, when ostensibly it should provide greater certitude. It should be reasonable to expect that, with all the critical tools available to the scholar, she or he should become more rather than less certain about the things that scholars study.

Critical methods as described, for instance, in The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church presented by the Pontifical Biblical Commission to Pope John Paul II on April 23, 1993 (published in ORIGINS, January 6, 1994),  suggest the limits of knowledge, hence the need to hypothesize or approximate interpretation with working assumptions. It may be this sort of thing that Paul meant when he said that the Law convicts us of sin, hence we stand convicted rather than justified under the Law of Israel. Critical scholarship teaches us what we don’t know while we strive to use it productively with all due humility.

Preachers, on the other hand, and some theologians venture far out in front of critical biblical scholarship and assure their publics that they know exactly what God meant by every word in Scripture. They seem to know exactly what God intended and how to apply it with certitude. Some may still believe that critical scholarship stands in the way of truth. But, those who believe that critical biblical scholarship can teach us something we don’t already know typically leave questions open for discussion. They recognize that they are not able to foreclose discussion on many topics that biblical writers addressed to their readers in historical and cultural contexts far distant from our own.

Living in the modern world is surely one of the complicating factors we experience when we seek to understand and interpret biblical writings. On the surface, it seems clear that the biblical God settled a lot of questions that we should no longer trouble ourselves about today. But somehow we just can’t seem to find satisfaction for prompt observance when we know things that the biblical sages clearly didn’t. On the other hand, we often don’t know what the biblical sages did know that we don’t and largely can’t know because our circumstances are so very different from theirs. Recovering the context or even content of their pronouncements is nearly impossible to achieve at this point. Hence, modernity, distinguished for its devotion to critical scholarship, teaches us to recognize that we know less than we think we should about the mind of God. But, many preachers aren’t so benumbed by critical scholarship that they can’t defy its limitations and proclaim an eternal truth or two on cue.

You might think that all this is merely stirring up muddy waters and that we’d be much better off carrying on the Tradition as we’ve received it, pure and untainted. It certainly is admirable to have simple faith undiluted by an open mind. Our imagination delights in the conviction that prompt adherence to the wisdom of the ages makes champions of us all.

Historians seem to miss out on all that. They leave many questions unanswered, recognizing that a variety of factors need yet to be known before they can advance to a level of probability, far less certitude. Historical criticism of the Bible must be viewed with suspicion by those who believe because God said so. Social scientists must be regarded as barking up the wrong forest when they tell us that words and symbols have different meanings from one social world to the next, leaving us wondering why they cast such spells of doubt over received interpretations of biblical texts. Preachers today can’t spend the time to pore through all the latest scientific criticism, since they have so little time to devote to the real work of teaching people how to live as God wills. I wonder whether they allow the same argument for their doctors who treat their diseases— believing that research is an unnecessary impediment to effective medical practice.

The current issue of BTB might still provide some paths to greater awareness for the wary. Historians might be interested to know that the Founders imagined that biblical faith and symbols could play a significant role in envisioning what would become the American government, a government of the people under God.

Political scientist George E. Connor explores this possibility in Covenants and Criticism: Deuteronomy and the American Founding. People’s reading of Deuteronomy may indeed have taken on resonances far removed from the very complex historical context of the biblical text attributed to Moses (a link that Connor recognizes as largely historic imagination). Similarly, biblical social science critic Stuart L. Love may tell us more than we wanted to know about underlying social world meanings in Jesus, Healer of the Canaanite Woman’s Daughter in Matthew 15: 21–28: A Social Scientific Inquiry; yet he leaves us wanting to know more before we can grasp the true meanings. Of course, we can choose not to be aware of the underlying meanings in this story while we venture out with Christian missionary theology and resolve.

Also applying categories and analyses derived from modern comparative social sciences in his article, Of What Charges (Luke 16:1–2)?, John G. Lygre characterizes the world in which the parable of the dishonest steward had meaning  Imagining history here might prove misleading for modern readers; better to study what evidence we have and attempt to reconstruct the realities that likely influenced the creation of this puzzling and provocative story.

Using the modern lenses of social science criticism and feminist hermeneutics, Carolyn Osiek scopes out, in The Bride of Christ (Eph 5:22–33): A Problematic Wedding, the various meanings of the symbolism of the union of husband and wife for imagining the relation between Christ and the church. After exploring the paths of literary conventions, Osiek opens readers to a much larger range of meanings and applications than might ever be imagined on a simple first-take.

Imagined history has more to do with present applications than with what actually happened in the past. It is a fantasy that can yield powerful insights. It can also impose heavy burdens. If critical scholarship offers nothing else, it at least cautions how circumspect interpreters need be in proclaiming the word of God.

David M. Bossman
Editor