We celebrate the 90th birthday of John Dominic Crossan, whose exceptional scholarship into the origins and types of the Christian testament has been so valuable. Having hosted a conference with him as the main speaker, I can testify to his delightful humour, wisdom, and grace, even to those who disparage his work.
Another of my gleanings is this wonderfully pithy statement he made, more than once, including in a presentation, ‘Who is Jesus?Answers to Questions About the Historical Jesus.’
My point, once again, is not that the ancient people told literal stories and we are now smart enough to take them symbolically, but that they told them symbolically and we are now dumb enough to take them literally.
What this pithy statement is saying is not that every word of the Bible is symbolic, but rather that we are foolish if we imagine that it is all to be understood literally—or for that matter symbolically. The reality is that Scripture (and traditions arising from past writings of all kinds) constantly need to be interpreted.
The responsibility for biblical interpretation is constant and must be engaged with in every place and time.
Within the Bible itself, different sections or ‘books’ are interpreting previous writings and teachings and applying these interpretations to their current situation. In the same way, at the time of Jesus there were schools of thought as to how best to understand and apply the ancient teachings and it was these differences that often gave rise to questions or challenges to Jesus.
Furthermore, there has never been a time when Christian scholars did not wrestle with the task of interpreting the teachings of the Bible. Irenaeus (born 130) and his contemporaries in the second century urged that the texts then available should be understood in line with the apostolic traditions. What these traditions were was of course itself a matter of continuing discussion.
Within the next centuries, two key elements developed as strong emphases: the allegorical understandings of many stories and texts, and the literal understanding of texts—and which approach applied to which texts was again a matter of scholarly discussion. In Alexandria, Clement and Origen stressed the allegorical approach more strongly, while in Antioch, John Chrysostom lent towards the literal.
By the time of Aquinas and those called the ‘Schoolmen’, four literary forms were identified within the Bible, and it was seen as the task of intelligent readers to discern what they were dealing with: Literal, Allegorical, Moral, and Analogical or Mystical.
What all this means is that there is a very long history of recognizing what Crossan was pointing out: those ancient writers offered us stories and teachings which we need to be smart enough to work to understand. This was a key teaching in the period of the Protestant Reformation: the challenge not simply to accept an ‘official’ teaching or church tradition, but to test it against the teachings of the Bible.
But how to do that, given the complexity and diversity of approaches? For Calvin and many others, the ‘inner guidance’ of the Holy Spirit was to be trusted—but that was not an invitation to an infinite variety of individualist interpretations, each person effectively creating their own Bible (as indeed many opponents alleged). Rather, the activity of study and learning from the Bible is itself undertaken within a responsive and responsible community: learning together and learning from one another.
Far from abandoning the traditions of interpretation, for several hundred years, these branches of the Christian community pioneered what is now known as the historical critical method, offering ways of interpreting the Bible through historical and literary forms, study of traditions and so forth. In the last century this scholarship broadened to include other parts of the Church, including Crossan in his earlier life as a Catholic priest and since, and has broadened into newer forms of interpretation.
Crossan’s challenge remains, as do these historical approaches. The idea that there is a simple, literal interpretation of every text, as a means of loyalty to ‘the original meaning’, is indeed ‘dumb’: it does not provide any voice or message. Rather, we read into the texts what we already think we know.
The responsibility rests with us all: we must not blindly accept what has ‘always’ been taught by our church or tradition. Neither can we simply make up our own way or interpretation, without reference to the past, or the present, or indeed the future. We have the blessed freedom to engage with the possibility that even now, in very different cultures and contexts to those of the original writers and witnesses, and others throughout history, these same texts can offer wisdom, guidance and inspiration. The Spirit can bring the words to life and life to us and our words.
May it be so.