Theological Paradigms and Self-Reflection

The other day I suddenly became aware of “sedimentation” in my own pre-theoritical experience. By sedimentation I refer to what Paul Ricoeur identified as the influence modern philosophy came to hold over popular culture. Ultimately sedimentation refers to theory entering the process of unexamined knowing in a subtle and pervasive way. The effect is that a person operates with or internalizes certain theory with its epistemological or interpretative convictions, often without her awareness.

However, I did not suddenly become aware of the sedimentation of modern philosophy (such an awareness is for more commonplace and unfortunately such an influence is probably far more entrenched). Rather, I suddenly became aware that I had operated, in my pre-theoritical life, with an uncomfortable duality of two theological concepts which can alternately claim exclusivity. The result is a very unhappy existence.

The first concept, which came to form for me a pre-theoritical paradigm of reality, was shalom. Shalom here refers to peace in the most profound and meaningful sense. I came to internalize expectations of shalom in my life through the claims of Reformed philosophy and theology. Both of which are predicated upon the restoration of creation after the resurrection. From this perspective, the implication of resurrection is that heaven-on-earth is available now. Shalom, the primary experience of pre-fall, or sinless reality, is possible. Another implication is that when shalom is not experienced sin is present.

The second paradigmatic theological concept: cruciform. Due to my reading and the influence of individuals outside of the hegemonic borders at the institution I attend, the role of suffering/witness or cross/liberation became a just-as influential operative reading of reality.

However easily the two could be acclimated to each other in systematics (and they can), in lived reality the two have a difficult time operating in the same time and space. One causes expectation of contentment and peace. The other creates expectation of persecution, suffering, and misery. No eschatological formula can adequately address the discontinuity between the experience of the two. Just as no theology, philosophy, sociology… can adequately address the human condition.

It was with a chuckle of resignation that I realized these two influences had been the source of much disharmony in my understanding of reality through the past few years – there is no resolution, I do not believe the Christian experience could be mediated without these two indissoluble expressions of expectation and experience. Without exile and restoration, without Crucifixion and Resurrection there is no Christianity.

A Word for the Community

In the spirit of not letting this blog die while I finish papers, study for exams, and prep for the GRE and since the first two sections can be found below, I thought I would include here the last section of my paper: “A Theologically Critical Study of I Kings 9:28-11:43.”

The Application…

“It could easily seem for a community who follows Christ, such as the church today, that the judgment embodied by the Torah-influenced Deuteronomist is antiquate. Torah regulations, while fitting for Israel, do not pertain in the context of justification and grace found in Christ. Indeed it could be easily assumed that, while the role of Deuteronomic judgment is interesting and insightful, the real fruit of Isaiah 60 is the application the gospel writers give the phrase – bearing “gold and frankincense.” Thus, it could also be assumed that the true kingship and power of Israel is here being ascribed to the Messiah and the fruit of I Kings 9-11 is found in the attribution of Solomon’s glory to Christ.

Such an interpretation is half right, but could, unfortunately, lead to a half dose of Christianity.  This interpretation poses the danger of only realizing an application equitable to substitutionary atonement. While the salvific quality of such a doctrine should not be denigrated, the lack of insight it provides when found alone should be. We should not follow Solomon and, say because of the temple, I am free – or because of substitutionary atonement, I am free (from sanctification and the consequence of idolatry).

Or, more likely and more insidiously, pursue our own consolidation of power, opulence, and respect. Our situation is not so different from Solomon’s. Solomon turned the monarchy into a business, through trade he became powerful, and through the technique it required, established a monarchy doomed to idolatry. As a church, a covenant community, who upholds the spirit of the Torah in their very identity, the alternative disposition and Yahweh-dependent economic vitality of such a community must be upheld. Such an expression must be found in any venture that includes a member of the covenant community.

While the paradigm is effectively altered with the inclusion of Christ and the renewing of the covenant community, it is not dissolved. In fact, in Christ, the charge to not realize the eschaton except from within the body is more pronounced. Since Solomon’s sin can amount to a realizing of the eschaton before and without the work of the Lord, it would follow that the penultimate sin would be to establish a personal eschaton in the present.

This archetype stands against the covenant community I know and love the best. The Reformed (neo-Calvinist) community, by virtue of a complex yet fertile philosophy, is predisposed to the sin of realizing personal-community eschaton. Such a philosophy as ours sets its gaze upon the entire world, declares its goodness, and begs to begin work within it. While there is certainly something beautiful about such a vision, something eschatological, it more frequently results in the marriage of Solomon.

Our vision drives our interest in various manners of consolidation that seem benign yet, like the hundreds of princesses and concubines of Solomon, begin to turn our head toward “the high places” and the idols that rest there. Such a marriage is particularly prominent in the area of economics and business. The, “all creation is good,” disposition allows this particularly well-fed wife of ours into our midst, informing us of a way to live other than that of a torah-guided community. The only way out of such a marriage is exile. The only hope out of exile is living as a covenant community – or communal union with Christ. Not only for imputation of righteousness, but, for the predication of all our eschatological hopes and dreams upon Christ.”

I Kings 9:28-11:43

Although it goes against my earlier intention, but because the last post sparked such great conversation, I thought I would also include my exegesis from the same paper. Hopefully, an illustration will be beneficial.

“The pericope I Kings 9:26-11:43 is an apt case-study for the methodology outlined here.  Verse 41, a conclusion to the preceding text, is an obvious example of such support. “Now the rest of the acts of Solomon, all that he did as well as his wisdom, are they not written in the Book of the Acts of Solomon?” (NRSV) This explanation reminds the reader that the interest of the text is not historical. There is a more specific, theological purpose accompanying this short and concise history of Solomon.

This text also uniquely evidences the usefulness of a diachronic approach. Chapters 10 and 11 present two contrasting visions of Solomonic rule. On the one hand, Solomon’s commercial success climaxes with a visit from the Queen of Sheba and establishes a vision of an earthly Kingdom which fuels Israelite eschatological hope. Yet, the vision of earthly glory is immediately followed by the Deuteronomic judgment and the impending troubles for Solomon and the house of David. The two together compose a conflicting and perplexing situation for the reader and the prophetic voice which wishes to speak a word for and to the church and the world.

The voice of the text in this pericope begins by relaying the extravagant success of Solomon. When chapter 10 is taken together with 9:26-28 an interesting parenthesis and logical development in the text becomes clear. A short account of Solomon’s shipping activity from Edom to Ophir is immediately followed by what the reader can suppose is the effect of Solomon’s nautical trade—interest from foreign dignitaries. The account of the visit by the Queen of Sheba is then followed by another implication of Solomon’s trading and commercial ventures. Chapter 10, verses 14-29 is completely devoted to the opulence and excess that Solomon brought to the monarchy and Jerusalem. The threefold sequence develops logically.

The three subjects – nautical trade, the visit of the world’s royalty, and a gold-lain capital – become more than the sum of their parts. Within these three components lies the seed for an eschatological hope. Naturally, a community’s hope for the future will be based upon the highest points of its history. Solomon does indeed represent such a point, if not in justice and righteousness then in sheer economic and military power. As Walter Brueggemann points out, the text from verse 14 to 29 in chapter 10 can be summarized as containing the list of Solomon’s accumulation of wealth, wisdom, and power.[1] From these measures, Israel, during the rule of Solomon, has reached her utmost status.

This utmost status can be characterized by the three criteria of nautical trade, visits from foreign dignitaries, and an opulent capital, which becomes the seed for Israel’s imaginative hope while in exile. This hope becomes characterized by restoration and by eschatological features. It is perhaps most poignantly expressed in Isaiah 60.

Verse 5-6

Then you shall see and be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice, because the abundance of the sea shall be brought to you, the wealth of the nations shall come to you. A multitude of camels shall cover you, the young camels of Midian and Ephah; all those from Sheba shall come. They shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord.

Verse 9a

Your gates shall always be open; day and night they shall not be shut, so that nations shall bring you their wealth, with their kings led in procession

Verse 11

For the coastlands shall wait for me, the ships of Tarshish first, to bring your children from far away, their silver and gold with them, (NRSV)

The gold-lain capital, while hinted at by various other prophets (Ezekiel for instance), as an image of ultimate restoration, is fully employed by the author of the Book of Revelation. The Jerusalem of Solomon’s day is only bested in scripture by this other more complete New Jerusalem. As for the gold and frankincense, Brueggemann relates that the common double reference to gold and spices can be more specifically referred to as “gold and frankincense,” linking the two passages in question further.[2] The ships of Tarshish are also found in the I Kings text, “For the king had a fleet of ships of Tarshish at sea with the fleet of Hiram. Once every three years the fleet of Tarshish used to come bringing gold, silver, ivory, apes, and peacocks.” (Verse 22, NRSV) It is clear that the memory of Solomonic Israel was alive and well in the exiled Israel. In fact, the opulence and power of that situation has characterized the formula of restoration and of the eschaton for Israel.

However, the culminating text and chapter, which follows chapter 10, is unconcerned with the grand vision surrounding the community’s memory of Solomon. While chapter 10 is celebrative, chapter 11 is a theological judgment on the monarchy.[3] The judgment which follows the tale of Solomon is a characteristic method employed by the narrator in Kings. First, the summary, account, and narrative of their rule, then a short and concise theological judgment follows.[4]

This judgment is Deuternomic. The kings are judged solely by their opting for or against Yahweh based upon their keeping of Torah.[5] This is entirely in keeping with the general attribution of the books of Deuteronomy, Joshua, and I-II Samuel and Kings to the “Deuteronomic Historian.”[6] The Deuteronomic perspective, according to Gerhard von Rad, is identifiable by its “standards of judgment found only in Deuteronomy, or predominantly in Deuteronomy, [these standards] are accepted as normative for evaluation of the past.”[7]

The standards of Torah, found in Deuteronomy, indict and convict Solomon. While many examples of Torah breaking occur prior to this final account[8] the final and kingdom-breaking judgment is against Solomon’s idolatry. It is interesting to note that the account of Solomon’s idolatry is preceded by an account of another indissoluble requirement of Torah. By taking foreign wives Solomon seems to have effectively doomed himself to following other gods. The text says “For when Solomon was old, his wives turned away his heart after other gods” (11:4).

Two significant implications could be teased out further. First, Solomon seems doomed to idolatry. A terribly powerful relationship between sex and worship is hinted at in the text. Solomon seems destined for idolatry the minute the narrator explains he kept 700 princesses and 300 concubines in his harem. In fact, the close relationship between whom Solomon keeps in his harem and whom Yahweh keeps in his own harem is being carefully explicated by this account. When Solomon marries those “which the Lord had said to the Israelites, ‘You shall not enter into marriage with them,’” (11:2) he is to some degree stepping outside of the Torah guarded harem of Yahweh.

Another implication is found in the purpose of royal marriage. Solomon’s marriage to Pharaoh’s daughter was likely political. It can be assumed without fault that the predominant number of Solomon’s marriages were carried out in the interest of consolidating power. There develops a clear logical line between Solomon’s opulence, excess, and power and the taking of foreign wives and his idolatry. What Brueggemann calls the effects of the “Royal Community” are clearly at work here.[9] Solomon’s failures therefore do not begin in Chapter 11, but can be traced back to 1 Kings 2 and, perhaps to his father David as well. It would seem Jerusalem has been as much a drunken Babylon as it has been the seed for the image of the New Jerusalem.

The theological judgment against Solomon is ambiguous enough to warrant this interpretation. According to Ralph Klein, the Deuteronomic Historian inserts analyses into the text in identifiable speeches or prayers found in the mouths of the narration’s leading figures.[10] One such speech can be found ascribed to Yahweh in I Kings 11:7-13. “Therefore the Lord said to Solomon, ‘Since this has been your mind and you have not kept my covenant and my statutes that I have commanded you, I will surely tear the kingdom from your hand and give it to your servant.’” However, there remains grace, “Yet for the sake of your father David I will not do it in your lifetime; I will tear it out of the hand your son.”

There is a mixed picture present in this judgment. On the one hand, the Deuteronomist perspective condemns Solomon because he violated torah. It does not matter which violations he accrued, any forsaking of the covenant is enough. On the other hand, Royal Theology[11] maintains there is something of especial interest to Yahweh about David, the monarchy, and the city Jerusalem. In fact there is enough interest that for the sake of all three, Yahweh will abide with Israel’s whoring a while longer. The two perspectives – of covenant and torah and of grace – share the same space in the judgment.

The pericope 9:28-11:43 also carry two seemingly conflicting perspectives. Nautical trade and foreign royalty converge centripetally on an opulent and powerful Jerusalem in both the I Kings account and later prophetic visions of restoration, such as that of Isaiah 60. Yet, the majesty and power of Solomon’s rule means not to the Deuteronomist. All the glory and power of Solomon is predicated upon the breaking of Torah and is as the author of Ecclesiastes aptly described it: meaningless. The consolidation of power occurs insidiously – as if to confirm the suspicions the Deuteronomist has always held against an Israelite monarchy. Indeed, there remains a hazy, yet prominent, link between such consolidation and the final undoing of the Solomonic regime.

A heavy task remains for the author of Isaiah. To compile two powerful images, seemingly at odds with each other and with their own significant theological weight and right would not be easy. It is a difficult theological undertaking to understand and incorporate the goodness of Solomon’s opulence with the judgment and source of exile that follows it.

Isaiah does however include such earthly and monarchial glory with the Deuteronomist’s stinging and resounding judgment. “The shepherds also have no understanding; they have all turned to their own way, to their own gain, one and all. “Come,” they say, “let us get wine; let us fill ourselves with strong drink. And tomorrow will be like today, great beyond measure” (Isaiah 56:11-12). “Instead of bronze I [that is Yahweh] will bring gold, instead of iron I will bring silver; instead of wood, bronze, instead of stones, iron. I will appoint Peace as your overseer and Righteousness as your taskmaster” (Isaiah 60:17)

There is a heavy and important difference in the source of Isaiah’s opulence and glory. While it seems unlikely Solomon could have accumulated such wealth and power without breaking Torah, it is through the very keeping of Torah – abstinence from the Technique of Solomon – that the holy community is given the things removed from Solomon. The bringer is Yahweh, who responds to a covenant people, not a regime of wealth, wisdom, and power.

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[1] Walter Brueggemann, 1 & 2 Kings (Macon: Smyth & Helwys, 2000), 135.

[2] Brueggemann, 1 & 2 Kings, 138.

[3] Ibid., 141.

[4] Ibid., 141.

[5] Gerhard von Rad, The Problem of the Hexateuch, 206.

[6] The term Deuteronomic Historian originates with Martin Noth in 1943. Ralph Klein, Israel in Exile (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1979), 23.

[7] Gerhard von Rad, The Problem of the Hexateuch, 206.

[8] The implementation of forced labor (I Kings 5:13-18) and the accumulation of horses and chariots (I Kings 4:26), compare with the prohibitions against such things (Deuteronomy 24:14 and 17 and 17:16, respectively).

[9] See the Prophetic Imagination. Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001).

[10] Klein, Israel in Exile, 23.

[11] Brueggemann, 1 & 2 Kings, 144.

A Short, Preliminary Treatise on Biblical Study

One of the products of this break’s paper writing…

It has been frustrating, but good to finally formulate a (working) hermeneutic extensively.

Methodologies of biblical study and hermeneutics of scriptural encounter and embodiment can reductively be mapped around four forks in the road of interpretation. These forks are found in the choices of (1) approaching the study of the scriptural text or as the study of the event “witnessed” to in scripture, (2) prioritizing criticism or categorizing scripture as canon, (3) perceiving biblical study as a descriptive or a confessional enterprise, and (4) recognizing scripture as diachronic or synchronic in nature.

The middle two plots in this map of elucidation could be traced to confrontations with higher criticism, while the first and the last plots result from gains made by higher criticism.[1] In the second choice, the choice between canon and criticism, the question of the authority of scripture is in play. Higher criticism approaches the text categorically, separating scripture into its individual sources and forms, articulating the traditio-historical and redaction patterns of scripture.[2] As such, any predicated recognition of the authority of scripture is seen as detrimental to the success of the overall enterprise, since it would imply perceiving scripture as a canonical whole prior to investigation, resistant or un-affected by splicing, dicing, and dissecting.

Such an enterprise, that is, higher critical biblical study, is built upon positivist philosophical assumptions which, through “objective,” “impartial,” and “scientific” study, relegate the history behind the text to the level of truth.[3] In this way, the choice of canon over criticism, or vice versa, predicts the choice of the third fork in the road of interpretation – perceiving biblical study as descriptive or confessional. If interpretative methodology is bound to critical biblical study there remains no other option then to critically describe the text and the history behind it.

Unlike the middle two departures, the first and last choices (text-event and diachronic-synchronic) available to biblical scholars result from the work of higher criticism and therefore do not primarily oscillate around conflict with higher criticism—a persistent quality of theology today. Unlike today’s theology, pre-critical textual interpretation did not face the choice of text or event; it would have seemed absurd to suggest such a choice as necessary. The very conscious opting for historical ratification of the text by higher criticism has made this distinction unavoidable.[4]

It has also made unavoidable the choice of perceiving scripture as diachronic or synchronic. Higher criticism has uncovered, especially in the Old Testament, variant voices which can appear to represent distinct and, occasionally, conflicting perspectives.[5] Perceiving scripture as synchronic most often occurs in efforts at systematic theology, since systems always strive for unity and clear and concise answers. A diachronic reading will refrain from voicing a complete systematic conclusion.

There is indeed a rich and complicated history and context in which the text was first given birth. However, the text seeks first to be a theological word, not a historical, social, or literary word.[6] Also in this way, theology, while always listening for historical, social, and literary nuance (since the best interpretation always arrives in contact with these springs), must be primarily theological.

As Karl Barth indicates, this is also a task theology proper has had to face, “Theology had first to renounce all apologetics or external guarantees of its position within the environment of other sciences, for it will always stand on the firmest ground when it simply acts according to the law of its own being.”[7] This law, according to Barth, is “the philanthropic God Himself.”[8]

The continuity between biblical study and theology is theology. Theo Logos – God Word, or, a Word about God is a fitting description for scripture and theology. Kevin Vanhoozer’s definition of biblical study as “theological criticism” is also quite fitting. [9] Theological criticism, realizes the text of scripture has itself sought to be theological. Even from within the domains of higher criticism, it is anti-ethical to not take the author, redactor, or compiler seriously about their intention for the text.

In this contention there is the realization that fruitful scholarship abides by the object of the study’s rule. So far, this has meant understanding scripture as a primarily theological text. Yet, it also implies that the form of the text, narrative and poetry, must also determine our methodology.[10] There is a terrible need to closely watch and enjoy the literary moves of the text, since this corresponds most honestly with the text itself.

Therefore, there is within the text alone enough to establish a manner or method of interpretation. If the interest of textual study is theological, the text will take precedence over the event. If the interest of the study were historical, the event would take precedence. The theological interest has also carried the choice of canon over criticism and confession over description. Since the text always seriously expresses encounter and relationship with God, a study of scripture which did not also seriously take this relationship and encounter seriously fails to be a full theology.

There is always and already an invested interest in our study, an acceptance of some canon or authority and the articulation of a confession in response to it. And, by determining a study as theological, a confession cannot be far behind, since a confession is the fitting response to theological awareness. In fact, it could be fairly stated that the form of theology will always be consciously or unconsciously confessional.

It does need to be noted that while opting for confession and canon, which indicates a break with higher criticism, a full break will not follow. Rather then discarding all the valuable tools and insights garnished by higher criticism, I simply confess my loyalty to the text first. In this way I seek to take the claims of the text seriously while utilizing the “tools and findings” of textual criticism for the sake of the text and theological encounter.[11]

The most appropriate reading of scripture and especially of the Old Testament is diachronic. Most systematic theology has long held the norming quality of scripture. In short, scripture must shape theology and theology must be shaped by scripture. Thus, a synchronic reading, perhaps valuable in topical interpretation, should not govern typical interpretation.

Additionally, the very form of scripture, narration and poetry, is rhetorical. Rhetoric always harbors a distinct perspective. It should not surprise us that a community as broad as the Covenant Community will harbor multiple perspectives. Nor should we fear it. Realizing conflict in scripture can itself become a Word from God which reveals our finitude to us. Or, more seriously, it can take the form of judgment, as Karl Barth’s NO! Additionally, it should be noted that the real continuity of scripture is found in the identification of the Covenant Community as the people of God and the consistent revealing of God as a “philanthropic God.”

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[1] According to Birch, Brueggemann, Fretheim, and Peterson, “Historical criticism rose to the height of its influence in the nineteenth to the mid-twentieth century as an effort to apply Enlightenment epistemological assumptions to the biblical text and to escape the dominance of church authority in biblical interpretation.” Bruce C. Birch, Walter Brueggemann, Terence E. Fretheim, and David L. Peterson, A Theological Introduction to the Old Testament (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1999), 20.

 

[2] Higher Criticism actually divides into the individual disciplines of source criticism, form criticism, traditio-historical criticism, and redaction criticism. Birch et al. eds., A Theological Introduction to the Old Testament, 20.

[3] Ibid., 21.

[4] It seems that the methodology of Neo-Orthodoxy is an exception to this analysis. Karl Barth would appeal to the event over the text. It should be noted that Barth still considered the text an authoritative witness to the event. In other words, the text remained the best witness to the Word, the event was not given the duty of ratifying the text.

[5] As an example of variant voices at work in biblical interpretation see von Rad, Gerhard von Rad, The problem of the Hexateuch and other essays, trans. Rev. E. W. Trueman Dicken (New York: Oliver and Boyd Ltd, 1966), 206-.

[6] Kevin J. Vanhoozer, “Introduction: What Is Theological Interpretation of the Bible?,” in Theological Interpretation of the Old Testament, ed. Kevin J. Vanhoozer (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House Company, 2008), 17.

[7] Karl Barth, Evangelical Theology: An Introduction, trans. Grover Foley (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1963), 17.

[8] Barth, Evangelical Theology, 16.

[9] The turn Vanhoozer gives this definition is quite Levinasian. In the end, those who turn their gaze upon the text find themselves constituted by the face staring back at them. Vanhoozer, Theological Interpretation of the Old Testament, 21.

[10] Birch et al. eds., A Theological Introduction to the Old Testament, 22.

[11] Ibid., 21.

Breaks

This Wednesday is the first day of Thanksgiving break. Outside my window and across the street, small and swift flakes of snow descend upon a mostly vacated college campus.

Most students’ plans for break involve going home and seeing family. Mine do as well, even though home is four blocks away and fifteen minutes away for my wife and I. However, most of my time is scheduled for completing school work, papers.

I enjoy writing and researching papers. I hate picking paper topics. It is a bit like picking a voice you would like to invite into your mind for the next few months, and, occasionally, the proceeding years. If it did not feel so false, I would say it is like picking a lover. Some of these voices have been welcome. I am ashamed of many.

Like (just) a few other students I know, about this time I start drawing up a reading list for the Christmas break. I have not yet fully read any of the lists I have ever drawn up, but it does not seem to discourage me from trying.

One of the reading goals is to finish a socio-rhetorical study on the epistles Paul wrote from prison. Another goal is to read through the gospels. This is interesting as far as goals go. I have discovered that when I approach reading the gospels like this, I read them as a reflection on my education. They punctuate all my learning, so that the effects of the last year, semester, or quarter of college become obvious when I consider my current reading against my last reading. After all the exams and testing, I like to perform my own.

Letter to the Editor

Recently published in the Dordt Diamond, Dordt College’s newspaper.

Dr. Gideon Strauss, in his presentation “Silly Walks Need No Justification” given on October 5, paid Dordt College an enormous compliment. According to Strauss, students at Dordt are better prepared for their work in the world than many who attend other institutions. This compliment should serve Dordt College as a commendation and a warning.

As evidence of Dordt’s advantage, Strauss relayed the high appraisal students from Dordt College in the American Studies Program have received. The primary reason Dordt students would receive high appraisals in the area of politics – and also the source of Dordt’s advantage – is the Reformed Worldview. An intrinsic component of that worldview is Sphere Sovereignty. Sphere Sovereignty provides not only a Christian vision for politics that cuts through the contemporary political theories, but also a guiding principle for Christian institutions.

Sphere Sovereignty has allowed many Christian women and men to recognize that the church is not subject to the state and the state is not subject to the church. This relationship extends to all social institutions in the same way: family, school, and business. Because Sphere Sovereignty recognizes that each “sphere” is subject to God alone, each “sphere” has a special and defining character apart from all other “spheres.” Sphere Sovereignty is the cause for Dordt Students’ success in politics and also an indivisible part of the cause for the “Dordt advantage.”

Later, at another lecture on Dordt’s campus, Strauss mentioned this appraisal was given about students who had attended the program some decades earlier. While we could easily gloss over this distinction in time, we should not.

By recognizing that this compliment was several decades old, Strauss has forced us to ask ourselves if this robust vision can still be found on Dordt’s campus. If it can, we must ensure that it continues to be taught at Dordt. However, it is not enough that it is taught at Dordt, we must also determine if the institution embodies the vision.

This task falls to students most heavily because the sphere that Dordt is most likely to be influenced by is business. The threat of the state and the church was a reality in Abraham Kuyper’s day, but today no other sphere is as powerful or influential in our society as business. Therefore, if Dordt is subject to the undue influence of any sphere, it would be business-influenced administration and the only part of Dordt’s community that would be able to influence its vision and future would be its consumers: the students.

Students must therefore examine closely the choices of this institution: For what reason does Dordt add buildings? For what reason are athletic programs added? For what reason are certain academic programs added? Why are certain divisions and departments receiving support and not others? In short, is Dordt an educational institution or a business? We were never told, as students, that this responsibility was ours, and, if Dordt is not a business then it should not be. If it is a business then, as its consumers, we have been given a responsibility we did not ask for, but have no choice but to bear it.

Bertolt Brecht’s “The Caucasian Chalk Circle”

This is taken from a recent essay I wrote for Dordt College’s The Canon, an arts oriented publication.

“Awareness is the primary objective of Brecht’s style. It is the motivation for his recurrent reference to social-history as well as the motivation for his method of audience alienation.

According to Brecht, “A representation that alienates is one which allows us to recognize its subject, but at the same time makes it seem unfamiliar.”[1] Essentially, alienation seeks to break enchantment. If you have ever been “lost in a story” or become so involved in a play, movie, or book, that you lost your sense of time, place, and self, you understand what it means to be enchanted. In Brecht’s theory, “suspension of disbelief” and enchantment is detrimental to the audience’s awareness. The audience cannot be convinced of their social-historical identity, their ability and responsibility to act and participate, if they have forgotten who they are, where they are, and what issues plague their society.

…

Brecht’s plays are more architecture than poetry. Today’s consistent search for practicality is easily answered in Brecht. His plays mimic folk story and his theory breeds folk-action. He was immensely concerned with politics and society and his theater served these concerns. While he sought his political goals through theater, he never desired a brain-washed audience. The desire for an aware audience through alienation testifies to this. Brecht wished to facilitate conversation and discussion in the theater, not mindless allegiance.

Thus, the stage, for Brecht, was simply a platform where social and political issues could be debated. The political philosophy of dialectical materialism best fits the vision of this theater. It appears that each play is engaged in a debate with itself over its purpose and methods. Never is the central conceit of the play offered without paradox or contradiction. This not only occurs between the elements of theater, but from within the text itself. In The Caucasian Chalk Circle, we see this contradiction through the character Grusha, who is not Michael’s mother, but is more Michael’s mother than his real mother, who is a noble character for it, but breaks her vow to her betrothed because of her nobleness.

Characters are typically more complex and simple than Grusha. The best parallel which elucidates this simple-complexity is found in the morality plays from the Middle Ages, which employed characters like “Everyman,” who represent an entire social class or group of people. Emerging through this interaction of characters is a social and political conversation, discursive and polemical, and a material dialectic, which always aims for result.

…

The text evidences the inter-connected theories of epic theater, alienation, and dialectical materialism. Alienation lays the work of awareness, so that a political dialectic can take place. In Chalk Circle, on the table for debate is the contention “That what there is shall go to those who are good for it.” This contention is phrased as an answer to a question. The style and methods of episodic structure, audience alienation, and political dialecticism are the forms this question and answer takes. The question is universal in scope and can be phrased universally as “What should go to whom?”

…

Before, during, and after this question takes form, alienation is at work. If it has not chased the audience away, alienation establishes a scientific and aware (philosophic?) disposition in the audience. Elements of alienation can only be pointed at from outside of an actual production because alienation is primarily an actor and director choice. Therefore the only examples of alienation to be located from outside of a performance are in the text and structure of the play. Chalk Circle also exhibits this theory and method in the text. Consider this passage – the Storyteller is preparing the audience to expect the armed overthrow of the governor.

Storyteller

The city lies still

But why are there armed men?

The Governor’s palace is at peace

But why is it a fortress?

And the Governor returned to his palace

And the fortress was a trap

And the goose was plucked

But the goose was not eaten this time

And noon was no longer the time to eat

Noon was the time to die.[2]

Notice not only the paradox and contradiction in the body of the text, but also the influx of grammar noticeably alien to a smoother rendition of this information. Two lines after the center of the poem, the theme of the subject shifts remarkably. The subjects before the switch are city, armed men, palace, fortress, Governor, and fortress. After the switch the subject is goose, goose, noon, and noon. The switch in the subject theme is dramatic and alienating; it punctuates the difference between the first and second part of the poem. The body of the text makes use of this alienation, demonstrating the contradiction between peace and an armed garrison.  Although there seems to be peace, it is based upon violence, and violence is indeed breeding more violence. Switching the theme of the subject emphasizes this. We are made more aware that this “peace” was, in essence, violent, and that the consequence would naturally be violent. Thus, through the tools of alienation, the text makes a specifically political point.”

This essay followed a fabulous production of The Caucasian Chalk Circle by Dordt’s Theater Arts Department. The Director, Dr. Ter Haar, had ran across a statement by Brecht in her research. The statement “In the contradiction lies the hope” became an integral aspect of the production.

This statement arrives at the heart and worthiness of dialectical methodology and theory. Uncovering the contradiction in our experience of life and the world thrusts us into uncomfortable territory. In our theory, philosophy, and theology it assaults our attempts at total systematization.

For this reason and others it remains quite dangerous to most of our institutional and collective enterprises. Perhaps this why Brecht remains mostly marginal. Of course, Brecht remains just as marginal as theater. Yet, within the world of theater, Brecht gathers a usual group of dedicated followers and often not more. I can understand the failure of alienation to attract most people, I have my reservations about it as well. However, there remains something dangerous and noble in Brecht’s attempts to actualize the political, social, and dialectic aspect of theater, something to be voiced.

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[1] Some use a similar definition for the work of philosophy, this is a fruitful comparison. Indeed, it could be claimed that Brecht’s alienation is really an avenue to bring philosophy into an explicit position in theater. Bertolt Brecht, “A Short Organum for the Theater,” in History of the Theatre, ed. O. G. Brockett and F. J. Hildy (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 2003), 450.

 

[2] Brecht, “The Caucasian Chalk Circle,” in Grove Press: Modern Drama, 17.

Samson Part 1

Samson is a reflection of Israel – an opportunity for Israel to view herself as if in a mirror.  Four symbols connect Samson to Israel: First, his birth, which not only connects the barrenness of Samson’s mother to the barrenness of Sarah, but also to the birth of Israel in the barren wilderness. Second, Samson’s birth was foretold in a theophonic encounter like Moses’ encounter with the burning bush – a disclosure which informs Moses that Yahweh is liberating for himself a nation, separate, holy. Third, this separateness, bound to Torah for Israel, is a separateness bound to nazarite obligation for Samson. And fourth, this obligation, when practiced in faith, breeds shalom for Samson-Israel and the Spirit of God’s strength in the life of Samson-Israel.  Therefore, in identifying the whole nation to the single character of Samson, Yahweh’s people are provided with a sense of origin and purpose – a missiology – in narrative form.

Samson also reflects Israel’s failure, Israel’s sin. The Spirit of God does not depart Samson until he finally breaks his last nazarite vow, the removal of his hair – the most obvious symbol of his identity. For Israel, the transgression of separateness and identity will spell ruin as well, in the form of a new separateness, separateness from Yahweh and a subsuming into the nations. This new separateness is a death, exile, seen through civil and cultic unrest in the end of the book of Judges (as well as the Babylonian exile, from which the book of Judges was likely compiled). However, there remains the prophetic end to Samson, which parallels the promise and mission of Israel.

This promise and mission is found in the lion which Samson kills early in the narrative. This lion is a symbol for Samson and Israel. From out of the lion will come something sweet. From the carcass of Samson will come deliverance. In the riddle he gave to the Philistines at his wedding party, Samson is the “eater” and the “strong” from whom comes something “sweet.” From the broken body of Israel in exile will come something “sweet.” However, it is because they embody the character of the lion that Samson-Israel deserves judgment.

The symbol of the lion is against the quality for national character aspired to in the Torah. While Samson had strength, Israel did not and was not supposed to. Torah obligations to avoid horses, chariots, and standing armies prevented it. Samson, through his disobedience was broken and blinded, much like the dead lion. However, it is through his captivity and exile among the Philistines that he provides deliverance to Israel. “Out of the strong something sweet.” For Israel also becomes a lion, the David-Solomon rule brings horses, chariots, and attempts at a standing army. This lion is broken as well – sent into exile. Her accumulation and consumption has made her the lion, the eater. However, in the brokenness of Israel we see deliverance, “something sweet,” “something to eat.”

To a More Dangerous Conversation

It is fitting to take some time in this inaugural post to explain the source of this blog’s title and the concept behind it.

The title comes from Walter Brueggemann’s introduction in his commentary on First and Second Samuel. Brueggemann states,

“Against the conventional pious reading of the church and against the conventional historical-rational readings of the guild, we have pursued another way of interpreting…The next generation of teachers and interpreters may be weaned away from “facticity” and “truth” to a more dangerous conversation.”

What Brueggemann speaks about here is the force of the modern paradigm. In his view, this paradigm has flattened our conception of reality, corrupted our relationships, and above all imposed a sense of stasis and numbness – rendering our theology and philosophy safe or marginal. Weaning ourselves of the stagnant relationship between facticity and truth is an attempt to reorient the imagination, which has been captivated (made captive) by a subtle and hostile force.

Reorienting the imagination through  fresh and refreshed discernment is dangerous. Dangerous to ourselves, in so far as we remain dependent upon political, economic, and social structures embroiled in the same subtle and hostile force, and dangerous to the reality we have built up around us. Yet, this danger comes closer to the “truth” than something tethered to facticity.

Brueggemann relates this “other way” to scriptural study. This blog will follow this other way. By allowing a fresh discernment of scripture we may cease to study the Word and recognize that we have been the object of study by the Word. In sum, this blog is dedicated to locating the marginal voice and the counter-discourse in all available theoretical pursuits, and in so doing,  seeking dangerous conversations.