The significance of B.S. Childs?

Much of this blog has been dedicated to extolling the praises of a man whose work has deeply influenced me, both spiritually and intellectually: Brevard Childs. I rarely come across statements that express something of the depth of my appreciation, though perhaps Seitz's comments come close. Recently, however, I read a eulogy that tops anything I have said on this blog. In fact, the praises are so high I'm left wondering whether I can fully agree with them. Perhaps my lack a full breadth of knowledge of the field disqualifies me from being able to make an informed judgement, but based on my experience to date I do think I can identify with McGlasson's sentiments. The following is taken from the preface to his Invitation to Dogmatic Theology:

The third decisive influence [on my approach] is the biblical work of Brevard S. Childs. I attended Yale Divinty School primarily in order to learn directly from Childs, and my eager expectation was met by an even greater reality. It is now clear that the work of Childs on canon amounts to nothing less than a brilliant new vision of scripture without parallel in the history of the church, though deeply rooted in the church's tradition of reading scripture. Every theologian worthy of the name has turned directly to scripture as the one source for the knowledge of God. Where else does the church learn to know Jesus Christ? However, never before has the church been closer to the shape and subject matter of scripture than in Childs's work on canon. The confession of canon was the first and foundational creedal affirmation of the ancient church; yet not until Childs's work have the full implications of that confession been so crystal clear and inviting for reflection. Once again, a new era has begun. Theology can never again go back behind Childs when it wrestles with scripture, nor can it count as genuine Christian theology unless it sees with precision the full force of the vision he articulates. The future of dogmatic theology lies with realizing the connection of the discipline with the Bible, and that connection depends upon a firm theological grasp of the issue of canon. The confession of canon is an ontological necessity for dogmatic inquiry and the proper beginning of all valid theological reflection (14-15).

So, how do people feel about that?

Third Isaiah, intertextutality, and history

In my post The Biblical canon and Biblical referentiality, I stated that, as far as Childs is concerned, the final form of the canon of Scripture is not a totally hermeneutically sealed unit, such that one can make sense of the parts without reference to extra-textual realities. He certainly credits the final form of the text with far more integrity than many of his colleagues, but nevertheless the meaning of this final form is contoured to a large degree by the particular manner in which it came to existence. This calls for a subtle form of exegesis, one which takes into account the different "levels of consciousness" present within the "final form."
"First, Third Isaiah remains a prophetic collection, both in form and content, which means there is an encounter with actual historical realities, albeit seen in the light of the divine. This dimension dare not be flattened simply into a type of learned scribal activity dealing exclusively with literary texts. Second, not every occurrence of a parallel [with Second or First Isaiah] can be assigned to an intentional reuse. A critical assessment must be made that reckons with the theological substance at stake beyond merely identifying formal parallelism discovered by the perusal of a concordance.1"

Childs' reference to the "theological substance" of the text here highlights another dimension of his concern to respect the historical nature of the text. Christianity claims that the Old Testament is a witness to a divine reality that was ultimately revealed in Christ. This was the concern of allegorical exegesis. Historical Criticism rightly retains this sense of extra-textual referentiality. Rejecting the constraints of the historical dimension and treating the text as a space for free-floating signifiers risks dampening its ability to point beyond itself the the reality that undergirds both past, present, and future.

1Childs, Isaiah, 462. S

Thiselton on the canonical approach

any suggestion to the effect that a 'canonical' approach is harmonizing or ahistorical rests upon a mistaken mythology generated by critics who have never properly engaged with it ("Canon, Community, and Theological Construction," p. 9).

Stark but true.

J, E, P as theological witnesses

The logic of Brevard Childs' canonical approach flows out of a commitment to understanding the reality testified to by the historical prophets and apostles. He does not start with an a priori commitment to the final form of the text, synchronic exegesis for the sake of it, or a broad thematic approach to Scripture. Rather, he looks to the historical tradents that gave us what was to become Scripture and attempts to understand what they were getting at. From that diachronic analysis his gaze is directed elsewhere, but only after the tradents themselves have redirected him.

An illustration of Childs' understanding of the nature of these tradents can be found in his source critical analysis of the Book of Exodus. Childs finds here a diversity of tradents who were involved in the production of the text. The “Plagues of Egypt” narrative (Ex 7:8-11:10), for example, consists of Priestly and Jahwist sources with small fragments of the Elohist (P, J, E), supplemented by late glosses.¹ Each source has its own narrative account of the plague, drawing on a common body of pre-existent oral tradition, and each witness originally stood independent of the others. These authors responded to their authoritative tradition in different ways, yet guided by the common desire to shape that tradition for the next generation of faith.

The Jahwist, for example, “shows tremendous freedom and imagination in fashioning his account,” despite the “traditional forces bearing on the writer which had determined in general the conclusion and general structure of the narrative.”² J builds in a concession motif, for example, creating a sense of increased tension in which Pharaoh's reneging on a previously granted concession (8:28; 9:28) turns to an impasse created by the inadequacy of Pharoah's later offer, (10:8-11), climaxing in the final breakdown in communication (10:24-29). In addition to this, the Jahwist skilfully portrays Moses and Pharaoh as competing antagonists—despite the roles which tradition had assigned to them—and creates an interesting tension between the LORD's absolute demands for release and his willingness to negotiate.³

The Elohist, on the other hand, is only preserved in fragmentary form, though as a continuous strand nonetheless. The movement of his narrative follows that of the Priestly writer and seems to reflect more the original tradition which was their common source. The plagues come in quick series and have no affect on Pharaoh because of the hardness of his heart.

The editorial integration of E with J results in an expansion of J's basic schema, such as the transition from the Lord's executing the plague in J to Moses' being the agent.

Again, the Priestly source reflects a variant tradition to that of J. For example, there was a distinction between plagues and miracles which originally served to distinguish the traditions of P and J. In P's schema Moses and the magicians compete in the performing of miraculous signs, yet the signs soon take on the characteristic of plagues, whereas the J source speaks initially of plagues, but these shortly function as signs. P also interprets the function of the hardening of Pharaoh differently to E: rather than plagues being a result of Pharaoh's hardness, Pharaoh is hardened so that the Lord can multiply his signs. Another difference to J and E is that for P the killing of the first-born does not belong the the plague tradition but to an originally independent Passover tradition. This plague is neither a plague in a sequence nor a sign, rather in P's account it functions to bring about the release of the Israelites, in fulfilment of the promise of 7:3-5. P also links the plague tradition to the crossing of the sea, in contrast to J, for whom the sea tradition belongs to the tradition of the wanderings in the wilderness.

Not only do these authors actualize their sacred traditions in differing ways, the combination creates an actualization of its own. Both the passover and reed sea traditions are brought into closer proximity to the plague tradition and there is a merging of miracles and plagues so that signs function as plagues and plagues serve as signs. In addition to all this, the various glosses evidence further theological reflection on the content of the tradition, actualizing the text for later generations in various ways. In 9:14-16, God's long-suffering does not represent self-restraint rather than impotence. 9:19-21 evidences a didactic interest to distinguish between “god-fearers” and the unbelievers, providing a testimony that the solidarity of judgement against all Egypt could always be relieved by faith in God's word. 10:1b-2 is a theological expansion, Deuteronomic in character:

The author uses the hardening vocabulary of J, but the theology of P. Any clear-cut distinction between sign and plague has also been lost. The expansion reflects the early interest in the actualization of the plague for a later generation. Here the Deuteronomic interest is more didactic than liturgical (cf. Ex.13.14f.; Josh.4.21). The understanding of the plagues as a testimony to God's great power by which to make sport of mighty Pharaoh is at work.⁴

In terms of Childs' canonical approach, the following key ideas ought to be borne in mind: 1) there is a dialectical relation between later witness (the sources and their redactors) and prior tradition. Prior witness constrains later interpretation, later interpretation shapes prior tradition. The prior tradition is thus religiously authoritative; 2) this process of interpretation was theological and aimed at identifying God's will for later generations of faith (contra many proposals from contemporary scholars today, who consider the primary force at work in Israel's tradition as political manipulation); 3) the redactional shaping of the sources is an extension of the source's own activity of shaping the tradition. There is thus continuity: the continuity of (dialectical) theological reflection, indeed reflection on the content of the tradition. One could no doubt claim that the tradition prior to these sources also partook of this same process. 4) The final form represents the culmination of a process of theological interpretation within the context of a broader understanding of the will and identity of God.

1Cf. Exodus, 131, for Childs' suggested source divisions with glosses.

2Childs, Exodus, 135.

3Childs, Exodus, 136.

4 Childs, Exodus, 142

The exegesis of B.S. Childs: an overview

This post presents an overview of the the structure of my next thread, dedicated to illustrating Childs' manner of doing exegesis. I will update it by adding hyperlinks as the thread progresses.

1. The principles of Childs' exegesis

2. Continuity in Childs' exegesis

3. The Witness

3.1 The profile of the tradents

Ex 7:8-11:10

Historical Criticism and theological reality: a case study

The tradition history of the office of Moses

The historical Isaiah and the canonical process

How do Isaiah 31:4 and 5 cohere?
Third Isaiah, intertextuality, and history

3.2 Form and function
Dealing with anachronism in Exod 16:34

3.3 The "effect" on the final form

4. The Substance

4.1 Force and Sachkritik

4.2 The res

[For a summary of posts dealing with canonical exegesis to date, go here]

The principles of Childs' exegesis

In my forthcoming posts - the subject of my next "mega thread" - I will be presenting examples of Biblical exegesis by Brevard Childs, the inspiration for my last "mega-thread." There will, however, be a logic behind the presentation. That logic is the logic of Childs' 'canonical approach,' (those are 'scare quotes,' by the way) as I worked it out in my last thread (also published as an article here) and refined through further study. What follows in this post is a roughly schematic summary of my understanding of the basic principles Childs operated by. I will then present examples of his exegesis in order to illustrate each of these principles.

I feel I should add a caveat: there is something awkward about having claimed to have understood someone else's approach. In fact, there is still much that is difficult for me and I am aware that even in those areas where I think I understand, I could be seriously mistaken. I always appreciate critical feedback.

A final note: I've scattered hyperlinks to the posts I've made over the last few years throughout the text. My selection is, due to time constraints and the limitations of memory, rather ad hoc and I may no longer fully stand behind the views expressed in the links. Feel free comment where you wish.

Our starting point should be Childs' alethiological stance, namely his theological commitment to the content of the testimony of the prophets and apostles, understood to be vehicles of truth. On the one hand, the historical nature of these witnesses requires a thoroughly historical critical analysis of their testimony in all its human particularity. The adequate tools for such an analysis are unlimited, so the exegete should make use of the best of contemporary scholarship. It is important that every dimension of the testimony be taken seriously. No one stage should be prioritized a priori over the other. If an earlier layer of tradition is more decisive for the thrust of the whole, then it should guide an interpretation of the final from.¹ This commitment to human proclamation coupled with a recognition of the multi-layered nature of the text raises a particular challenge concerning the significance of intentionality, particularly in assessing types of intertextuality. It is not the case the one can freely garner texts from across the canon in order to observe the creative outcome of their interplay. Rather, just as there are different types of activity within the history of the text, so one must wrestle with different types of intentionality, or “different degrees of consciousness” as Childs put it.² The juxtaposition of completed blocks of tradition such as the four Gospels or the two Testaments requires a different level of analysis to the citation of an earlier text by a later one or unintentional allusions due to a shared ideological background. Again, in line with current understandings of communicative acts, it would appear that the form of a text or tradition is integrally related to its function, both within the community and within the literary corpus to which it has been assigned.³ Until a better understanding of human communication is developed, it would appear that these two dimensions of the text must be continue to be kept in view.

On the other hand, it is not the witness himself who should be the focus of our case. He is ultimately only a vehicle to the revelation to which he witnesses. That means that if one wishes to take the intentionality of the prophets and apostles seriously one must move one's gaze from the proclamation itself to its actual substance, its res. We need to move beyond the descriptive task and wrestle with the “content of the witnesses' faith.”⁴ To stay at the “literal” level of the text would negate its kerygmatic function and lead to the anomaly of an “anthropocentric” interpretation of Holy Scripture. We must thus keep an eye out for talk of the theocentric focus of the text and the nature of the text's substance or content. In particular, it is the effect of the shaping of traditions on the final form that provides access to this reality. Again, the reality is mediated by but distinct from the textual vehicle, so that one can expect talk of the substance to break with the concrete contours of the text under discussion. Rather, it is at the thematic level that one can see how a particular text provides light on a broader reality testified to in the totality of Scripture and in the theological experience of the interpreter. The living nature of this substance who has continued to reveal Himself to his people throughout history requires serious attention to those who have also wrestled with this theological subject matter, responding to His coercion through the text.⁵ The history of interpretation, or perhaps more theologically adequate the text's Wirkungsgeschichte,⁶ therefore furnishes us with an invaluable resource for “piercing the text.” Of fundamental significance is the presence of a force. Identifying its movements helps point our gaze in the correct direction.

The move from text to reality takes the interpreter from the the realm of Biblical exegesis (the qualifier “theological” introduces an alien dichotomy) to that of Biblical theology. Though in reality the relationship between text and dogma (reality) is dialectical,⁷ the task of Biblical theology is a sphere of its own, outside of the domain of a commentary. The Biblical theologian extends the hermeneutical circle to include the relationship between different dimensions of the reality, the interaction of Word and Spirit, and includes a reverse movement from reality back to witness.⁸ The theological function of a commentary, on the other hand, is to stay close to the sequence of the Biblical text, and wrestle with interpretative questions.⁹ As far as exegesis is concerned, Biblical theology is an “ancillary discipline that better serves in equipping the exegete for the real task of interpreting the biblical text itself.”¹⁰

1Contra many misconceptions of Childs. See his discussion of the book of Judges in his Introduction

2Childs, “Response,” 54. It is for this reason that Childs prefers Thistleton's use of speech-act theory over Wolterstorff's, and Beuken's use of intertextuality over Steins'. See “Speech-act,” “Critique,” and Isaiah.

3Childs' commitment to function—“illocutionary stance” to use speech-act parlance—as a key ingredient to meaning explains his preference for M. Sternberg's literary analysis (for whom narrative is a “functional structure”) over that of J. Barr. See M. Steinberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Ideology and the Drama of Reading (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985; especially his critique of H. Frei, J. Kugel,and R. Alter , pp. 1-57), J. Barr, “The Bible as Literature,” in The Bible and the Modern World (London: SCM, 1972), 53-74, and Childs' comments in Biblical Theology, 20. In his exegesis of Isaiah 10, therefore, Childs can say: “Although accurate historical dating can at times be of exegetical significance, the crucial interpretative task lies in determining the narrative function to which the texts have been assigned, rather than in supplying a reconstructed setting apart from its present literary (canonical) context.” Childs, Isaiah, 94 (emphasis mine).

4Cf. Childs, “Psalm 8 in the Context of the Christian Canon,” Interpretation 23:1 (1969), 20-31.

5In conclusion to his analysis of the history of Christian interpretation of Isaiah, Childs proposes that “an investigation of this history of interpretation that focusses its analysis on the assumption that various cultural forces (historical, sociological, philosophical) are the controlling factors at work misconstrues the most central components of the church's theological reflections. ... there are theological parameters preserving the church that are continually being shaped by the Spirit's quickening in the understanding of its scriptures toward a faithful witness to Jesus Christ. ... we can derive new confidence in confessing with the creed: I believe in the one holy catholic and apostolic church.” Struggle, 322-333.

6Wirkungsgeschichte denotes the opposite direction of influence. The text exerts a “coercion” on faithful interpreters who submit to this “theocentric force.”

7“One comes to exegesis already with certain theological assumptions and the task of good exegesis is to penetrate so deeply into the Biblical text that even these assumption are called into question, are tested and revised by the subject matter itself.” In Childs, “Does the Old Testament Witness to Jesus Christ?” in Evangelium, Schriftauslegung, Kirche (ed. J. Ådna, S. Hafemann, O. Hofius, and G. Feine; Göttingen: Vandenhoek & Ruprecht, 1997), 57-64; here, 60.

8Cf. Childs, Biblical Theology, 85-88. He draws here on A. Louth, Mystery.

9Cf. Childs, “The Genre of the Biblical Commentary as Problem and Challenge,” in Tehillah le-Moshe (ed. M. Cogan, B. Eichler, and J. Tigay; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1997), 185-192.

10Childs, Isaiah, xii.

The end of a "mega-thread" and the beginning of a new one

I have finally, after about three years of blogging, managed to finish my "mega thread", which I've re-christened: Theological Exegesis: Wrestling with Childs' Canonical Approach. It's been an exciting journey. The idea behind it started as an essay on methodology for my doctorate. I knew I wanted to do something both relevant to the world today as well as true to the nature of the Bible, but how? Given that Brevard Childs' "canonical approach" is generally considered to be a foundation for "theological exegesis," I thought I'd start with him and then move on to something more contemporary. I soon realized, however, that one cannot just "start" with Childs and then move on. The man was a phenomenon, and as with many phenomenons [somehow the -a ending doesn't work here ... ], he's been grossly misunderstood, both on the left and on the right. For those interested in a concise summary and defence of his approach in the face of much criticism and misrepresentation, I highly recommend Chris Seitz's excellent essay, "The Canonical Approach and Theological Interpretation," in Canon and Biblical Interpretation, 58-110. I also recommend getting hold of Daniel Driver's recently published PhD thesis: Brevard Childs, Biblical Theologian. Though I read the draft of this after I'd finished most of my work we are in strong agreement (which, I think, goes a long way to strengthen our thesis!). Driver has helped me in particular understand the meaning of "the mystery of Israel," as well as locate Childs in relation to Herman Gunkel's work. Especially valuable, of course, is his critique of the innumerable critiques that Childs' own work has received. I owe Driver a debt of gratitude for providing me throughout my research with essential reading tips and unpublished material by Childs. I think it's safe to say that without these tips and materials my understanding of Childs would look decisively different. So once again, Daniel: Thanks!

Back to the journey: I wrestled with the man, trying to find a deeper unity behind what others have considered to be a kind of schizophrenia, and that struggle ended up turning into the first half of my doctorate. The fruits of the first part of my struggle have been the subject matter of this thread, and can be read in slightly less processed form and obviously without the attendant dialogues online. A decidedly more "mature" version (so I'm told), drawing on the stuff I couldn't get into my first essay, will hopefully find its way into a journal in the near future.

A major impetus for continuing this line of enquiry came with a series of dialogues I had on Jim West's excellent on line Biblical Studies Forum with certain members of the "Copenhagen school" (they've now set up a guild with its own blog). It became clear to me that there was still much to be said on the subject and that I had a perspective I felt I was capable of defending. This provided me with the energy to do the unthinkable: set up a blog (!! outrageous for a cyberphobe like myself!!). And with hindsight that has been one of the best decisions I've made since ... I don't know ... learning to speed-type. I've been blessed to have had many commentators pop by to question, critique and challenge my view of things. I think it's fair to say that these dialogues have had and will have a significant impact on the way I finally draft up my final doctoral thesis.

In terms of my research I actually moved on to pastures new about a year ago, looking to apply Childs' approach (or rather my understanding of it) to Psalm 24. The switch has taken a bit of getting used to - rather than make broad statements about "the canonical process" or "the substance of Scripture," I've had to get down to the particulars of syntax, poetics, genre and particular ideology. It's a bit like descending from a mountain with its 360 degree views into the nitty-gritty of the jungle (as in the photo above). The switch explains the relative dearth in posting over the past few months. This stage of my journey is no less exciting, and I look forward to the time when I can feed the fruit of this work into my blog.

For now the contents of Narrative and Ontology will continue to wrestle with Childs, but from a different angle, one more relevant to my present concerns. Rather than talk about how one should read the Bible, I'm going to be presenting a host of examples of how Childs did read the Bible. The unifying concepts organizing my presentation will be those key concepts that I believe guided Childs' approach, namely attention to the profile of the vehicles of revelation, their form and fuction, and the nature of the reality itself that stands behind, within, and in front of them.

Outlining in more detail what that means will be the subject of my next post.

Barth's "canonical theory"

I have already posted a quote by Martin Buber which shows strong affinities to Childs' "canonical theory," followed by another quote by the Protestant scholar Jörg Jeremias. Today I add a quote by Karl Barth. It is a response to the question of the legitimacy of the churchly practice of "theology," given that the Bible itself seems to nowhere have a fully developed form of reflective theology. The Dutch Reformed scholar Frans Breukelman frames the issue as follows:

Nirgends ... sehen wir es geschehen ... , daß die biblischen Zeugen ... , ... außer ... was sie uns ... direkt zu sagen haben, .... nun auch noch einmal um der Deutlichkeit willen so etwas wie ein Stück "Theologie" als Erläuterung eigens dazugeben, wie etwa[]: "Seht, das sind nun unsere Motive und Argumente gewesen, es so zu sagen, wie wir es taten, die und die Absicht haben wir dabei gehabt, als wir uns mit der Formgebung unserer Texte beschäftigten, dies und das war es, was wir vor allem möglichst kräftig agen wollte[n], um damit zugleich gegen bestimmte Mißverständnisse und Abweichungen und Irrtümer möglichst effektive anzugehen (1986: 18).

My first thought was "wait a minute ... Canonical process?" I was thus relieved to hear him later say:

Und doch haben wir es in dem sermo de Deo des biblischen Zeugnisses mit "Theologie" zu tun. Bei der Exegese biblischer Texte spüren wir nämlich von Mal zu Mal, daß der Formgebung dieser Texte mit einer großen Mannigfaltigkeit von Tendenzen theologische Reflexion zugrunde liegt (p. 20).

He backs this up with a the following great quote from Barth:

Die Sache [nämlich theología] war der neutestamentlichen Gemeinde sehr wohl bekannt ... als die Frage nach der Gestaltung des christlichen Denkens, Redens, Handelns und Lebens im Licht seines Ursprungs, Gegenstands und Inhalts. Nicht nur die paulinischen und johanneischen, sondern alle Schriten des NTs sind offenkundig auch Dokumente mannigfaltiger, in diesem Sinn 'theologisher' Besinnung und Arbeit, die ihre Autoren damit auch ihren Lesern zugemutet haben. In den Tatsachenberichten wie in den Lehren der Apostel und der Evangelisten steckt ein nicht zu unterschätzendes Maß solcher Reflexion: sie haben sich - das bezeugen die erhaltenen Texte auf der ganzen Linie - die Frage nach dem Sinn und Recht ihres Sprechens, gemessen and dem ihnen vorgegebenen Objekt, gestellt, haben sie, Jeder in seiner Weise (immer im Blick auf die sie umgebende Gemeinde und in Auseinandersetzung mit allerlei besserer oder schlechterer Theologie, die auch in deren Mitte getrieben wurde) beantwortet, und, wie im besonderen die Pastoralbreife zeigen, auch an ihre Nachfolger weitergegeben ... ." (KD IV/3, pp. 1008; cited in Breukelman, p. 35).

Bibliography: F.-W. Breukelman, Umschreibung des Begriffs einer "Biblischen Theologie" (orig. niederl. 1980): Texte und Kontext Nr. 31/32 (1986) 13-39.

P.S. I haven't read this yet, but here is a fascinating-looking article on Breukelman, who really comes very close to Childs's canonical approach in the essay above, which includes anecdotes about a debate he had with Eberhard Jüngel in the presence of Karl Barth on the role of the Old Testament in the Church. If I've glanced through the article correctly, it looks as if Barth was with Breukelman.

Jörg Jeremias' "canonical theory"

I posted a quote by Martin Buber the other day from the 60's, though its seems he had had such ideas already in the 30's, concerning the nature of the process which gave birth to the final form of the Bible. This process was, in other words, "canonical." Here is another quote, again by a German, though this time a Christian, a historical critic, and one living in our day and age: Jörg Jeremias (on the right in the photo). It was originally part of his Abschiedsvorlesung, and was published in 2006 as part of his essay, "Das Wesen der alttestamentlichen Prophetie." Can you spot any differences to Buber's account?

So sehen wir die Propheten der spätpersischen und hellenistischen Zeit mit der Suche nach einem Gesamtwillen Jahwes beschäftigt. Zu diesem Zweck beziehen sie die mannigfachen überlieferten Einzelworte bzw. -texte der vorausgehenden Propheten aufeinander, um das eine Wort hinter den vielen Wörtern aufzudecken und insbesondere das Verhältnis von göttlichem Gerichts- und Heilswillen zu klären. Sie machen dabei, wie oben an Joel 2 gezeigt, keineswegs an der Grenze der prophetischen Schriften Halt, sondern beziehen die großen Texte des Pentateuchs mit ein. Die kanonische Funktion der Prophetie ist weit älter als der faktische Abschluss des prophetischen Kanonteils.

And again:

[Am Ende der prophetischen Überlieferung im Alten Testament] steht das Bemühen, die vielfältigen schriftlichen Zeugnisse von einem Reden Gottes durch Propheten zusammenzufassen, aufeinander zu beziehen und nach dem einen übergreifenden Willen Gottes zu fragen. Die Disziplin einer 'Theologie der Prophetie' ist keine moderne Erfindung, sondern längst schon in der späten Prophetie selbst angelegt. Die kanonische Funktion der Prophetie ist weit älter als der faktische Übergang der Prophetie in kanonische Dignität.

J. Jeremias, Das Wesen der alttestamentlichen Prophetie, in: ThLZ 131 (2006) 3-14, hier 13f (Hervorhebung im Original).

Buber's "canonical theory"

I was surprised to read the following thoughts from Martin Buber, written in 1964 and yet inspired by a Bible course he had held in Germany between 1934 and 1935. They seem to pretty well prepare the way for Childs' canonical approach:

Biblische text sind als Texte der Bibel zu behandeln, das heißt: einer Einheit, die, wenn auch geworden, aus vielen und vielfältigen, ganzen und fragmentarischen Elementen zusammengewachsen, doch eine echte organische Einheit und nur als solche wahrhaft zu begreifen ist. Das bibelstiftende Bewußtsein, das aus der Fülle eines vermutlich weit größeren Schrifttums das aufnahm, was sich in die Einheit fügte, und in den Fassungen, die dieser Genüge taten, ist nicht erst mit der eigentlichen Zusammenstellung des Kanons, sondern schon lange voher, in allmählichem Zusammenschluß des Zusammengehörigen, wirksam gewesen. Die Kompositionsarbeit war bereits "biblisch", ehe die erste Vorstellung einer bibelartigen Struktur erwachte; sie ging auf eine jeweilige Zusammenschau der verschiedenen Teile aus, sie stiftete Bezüge zwischen Abschnitt und Abschnitt, zwischen Buch und Buh, sie ließ den tragenden Begriff durch Stelle um Stelle klären, ließ die heimliche Bedeutung eines Vorgangs, die sich in der einen Erzählung nur eben leicht auftat, in einer andern sich voll erschließen, ließ Bild durch Bild und Symbol durch Symbol erleuchten. Manches von dem, was man "Midrasch" nennt, ist schon in der Bibel selbst, in diesen Zeugnissen einer zur biblischen Einheit strebenden Auslese- und Koordinationsarbeit zu finden, deren stärkstes Werkzeug eine diskret folgerichtige Verwendung von Wiederholungen, Motivworten, Assonanzen war. Wir stehen hier erst am Anfang einer methodischen Erkenntnis. Es gilt den Blick für diese Entsprechungen und Verknüpfungen und überhaupt für die Einheitsfunktion in der Bibel zu schärfen. Dann ergeben sich uns ganz andre Gebilde als die der "Quellenschriften", auf die die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft der letzten Jahrhunderte den Bau der Schrift zurückzuführen sucht; es ergibt sich größere Verschiedenheit und größere Gemeinsamkeit und das in seiner Dynamik erkennbare Werden dieser aus jener. Damit soll nicht gesagt sein, daß man sich nicht mit den Thesen der modernen Wissenschaft vertraut machen solle. Man soll es tun; man soll nur auch wissen, was es ist, das man durch sie erfährt. Thesen kommen und gehen; die Texte bleiben. [*]

It could do with a bit of refinement, but it's a great start. I'd love to know where he got these ideas from ...

[*]M. Buber, "Ein Hinweis für Bibelkurse," in Werke: zweite Band: Schriften zur Bibel (Kösel-Verlang, Munich), 1964, pp. 1185-1186.

A canonical Paul?

One of the things that astounds me about the scholarly career of Brevard Childs is his ability to push boundaries in scholarship in the most diverse (Biblical) fields. In his lifetime he published groundbreaking work in the following areas: concrete exegetical analyses of Old Testament texts and themes, historical overviews of the discipline along with proposals for ways forward, Old Testament introduction, New Testament introduction, Biblical theology, dogmatic theology, hermeneutics, and the history of interpretation. Luckily his final book, published after he died, seems to continue this trend, this time in the realm of Pauline studies. I haven't gotten round to reading it yet, but Paul e-. Trainor has done a handy review for the Review of Biblical Literature. The book is called The Church's Guide for Reading Paul: The Canonical Shaping of the Pauline Corpus. Read the review here, and if you have time, tell me what you think (you can also peek into it at google books).

Louth drew on Childs (or the "complentarity of tradition and scripture")

Brevard Childs drew on Andrew Louth's Discerning the Mystery in his Biblical Theology of the Old and New Testaments, especially when talking of the dialectic between the literal and plain sense of the text. I'm reading through Louth's interesting book at the moment and I have just discovered that Louth had already paid Childs the compliment. Here's what he has to say (which, I should add, shows an excellent grasp of what Childs was trying to get at in his Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture):

The tendency of the historical-critical method has been to concentrate on originality and regard what is not original as secondary: but if we see here a process of inspired utterance and reflection on - comment on - inspired utterance within the tradition, itself regarded as inspired, then we have a more complicated, but, I suggest, truer picture. The formation of the Hebrew Scriptures is an object lesson in the kind of complementarity of Scripture and tradition - or inspired utterance and tradition - that I have outlined. The art of understanding is more complicated, and richer, than an attempt to isolate the earliest fragments and to seek to understand them in a conjectured 'original' context: we hear the voice and the echoes and re-echoes, and it is as we hear that harmony that we come to understanding. As I see it, it is this perception that underlies the notion of 'canon criticism' [sic], associated particularly perhaps with the name of Brevard Childs. (Louth, Discerning the Mystery, 108-109).

He mentions in a footnote that some of these concerns had already been raised by A.G. Herbert (especially The Throne of David (London, 1941) and The Authority of the Old Testament (London, 1947) ).

For an more extended quote on the symbiosis of tradition and scripture from the same chapter, check out a post by Ora et Labora.

For an extremely detailed blog thread working through Louth's book section by section, check out Sister Macrina's A Vow of Conversation.

The need for "Godly exegetical instincts": George Adam Smith as case study

A major implication of the "canonical approach" as conceived by Childs and then developed by Christopher Seitz is that theologically viable exegesis is not just the preserve of practitioners of one tightly defined hermeneutic.

In their conception, the diverse parts of the Bible witness to a single theological reality, a reality which constitutes the "ontological unity" of Scripture. As such, if an interpreter is connected with and focussed on this theological reality, he or she has the ability to develop what Seitz calls “godly exegetical instincts” (243). Equipped with these instincts, one is protected against making exegetical moves which dramatically distort the text.

One such interpreter whose instincts were honed by his acquaintance with the regula fidei of Christian faith is the historical critic George Adam Smith. Smith's commentary on the Minor Prophets (1896) recasts their canonical ordering into a chronological sequence. Seitz notes how this exegetical move poses a theological problem for him: is God really like Amos says? (131) According to Smith's critically reconstructed Amos: God is a god of almost pure judgement. How does this God relate to the God of the prophet Hosea, with his different message?

Seitz continues:

Smith is not content with a simple law-versus-grace distinction, nor will he say that Hosea brings something forward that Amos simply did not know. Amos is a true prophet and his account of God is true; God is as Amos says he is. What Smith is struggling with is a penetrating account of the theological reality of God, spoken of in one way by one prophet and spoken of in another way by a successor, but both men speaking truly. It is the subject matter of prophecy—the God to which the prophets refer—that concerns Smith. Even though the prophets may be distinctive figures to be ranged on a historical grid, they are affiliated at a level deeper than even their own grasp of the matter. Smith is convicted of this, and it is this specific theological gravity that keeps his reading drawn within the orbit of older concerns for affiliation, now in a new model that would threaten this aspect in other hands.

… The question is … : Why does Hosea form the lens through which our understanding of God—in relationship to Israel, the nations, time, and creation—is focussed? Why does his particular, comprehensive witness serve best in introducing first Joel and the Amos? Smith finds persuasive the arguments of historical criticism for the priority of Amos before Hosea. But in the end, it is the theologically expansive witness of Hosea that serves to illuminate the more partial account of Amos, in Smith's conception. In this manner, though he works with a fresh model of historical sequence, Smith has intuitively retained the insights that the canonical form itself sought to enforce (131-132, third emphasis original).

This brings us to the key ingredient of the canonical approach as understood by Childs (see my article “Childs as Critical and Faithful Exegete,” though be careful with what I wrote in section 2! I'm rethinking that bit) : the witness of Scripture to a single divine reality. Seitz puts it thus:

My basic argument here is that the canonical form, when it is appreciated, even on the other side of historical accounts of priority, anteriority, and posteriority, serves to guard these kinds of crucial theological insights. The prophets are related, not in some easily reconstructed historical or sociological sense, but in the nature of their activity as spokesmen for God. … It is God himself who sees to the affiliation proper to his character, mediated through his servants the prophets (134, emphasis mine).

Propotional exegesis in the Minor Prophets

In my last post, I claimed that a canonical approach to Biblical exegesis, at least in the sense in which Brevard Childs and Christopher Seitz understand it, does not lead to flat, synchronic reading. Rather, it requires what Seitz called proportional interpretation, "a balancing act."

In relation to the Book of the Twelve (the Twelve Minor Prophets), the example given in my last post was the necessity of distinguishing the different types of juxtaposition found within the Twelve and between the Three (Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel). "Proportionality" also needs to be maintained when correlating the general with the particular. Thus, regarding Jonah, Seitz says:

[b]oth the specificity and historicity of Jonah's world of reference, and the larger design within which one is to comprehend that, are guarded in a canonical reading, allowing Jonah to speak from within the witness of the Twelve (148, emphasis mine).

Here is a more detailed quote on Obadiah:

Working simply on the basis of Obadiah as in independent work, Childs and others point to the careful way in which Edom retains a distinctive historical specificity, but at the same time has been brought into explicit association with a larger theme—the day of YHWH—in respect of all national powers.1 Neither side of this association has been blurred in the final form of the book. The Day of YHWH theme, whatever else it may be in Obadiah, and in association with Edom, in prominent in the book of the Twelve as a whole. Indeed, for many it is the chief theme under which any number of different editorial moves have been organized in the final form of the collection. Without endorsing this view, it remains a valuable if partial insight. What may be said about the profile of Edom and the nations within Obadiah as a single witness holds true as well for the theme of the Day of YHWH in Obadiah, on the one hand, and in the surrounding witnesses of the Twelve, and the other. That is, the integrity of both realities must be guarded and not merged. (137, emphasis mine; Seitz references Collins, Mantle of Elijah, 70.).

To play on a term from Karl Barth, we need a Zusammensehen and not a Zusammenklappen (Barth, Einführung).

The need for proportional exegesis

What is proportional exegesis? Proportional exegesis is exegesis which takes into account all the dimensions of the text and gives them their proper due. The so-called "canonical approach," as conceived by Brevard Childs and developed by Christopher Seitz, attempts to do this - contrary to many misrepresentations of the approach as pure synchronic method (it's not even a "method"). In his book Prophecy and Hermeneutics, Seitz mentions three dimensions of the Biblical text, especially as they relate to the canonical shape of the Twelve: the historical, literary, and theological. I have commented on this in more detail my post The canonical shape of the twelve Minor Prophets.

Maintaining these three dimensions in proportion (there are no doubt more, feel free to suggest) requires a lot of subtlety on the part of the interpreter, what Seitz calls a "balancing act." For example, the distinction between the collection of the three Major Prophets (Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel) and the Twelve must be taken seriously. According to Seitz, for the Three, “different orders can exist, and the present arrangement is such that the integrity of the individual books is what matters, not their inner relationships or particular order” (91). The Twelve, on the other hand, have been preserved in a different way. “On the one hand, like the Three, they have their own integrity as a single independent work. Unlike the Three, however, they manifest a twelvefold internal character that is clearly marked and is an essential feature of them/it” (91).

Seitz goes on,

The question now is not one of whether historical particularity is a feature of Israel's prophetic witness in general or of the Minor Prophets in particular; it most surely is, and the superscriptions appear calibrated to make this aspect clear formally. What is at issue is how one handles this dimension of the witness in a proportional way and in accordance with the formal character of the witness (92, emphasis mine).

The implications this should have for the interpretation of the Psalms should be clear. In my interpretation of Psalm 24, I will be attempting to avoid the extremes of traditional form criticism on the one hand, which seeks only to interpret the Psalm within the context grid of some context external to the Psalter (though see Millard, Komposition, for a form critical analysis of the Psalter per se), and so-called "canonical approaches" (different to the one described above), which treat the Psalter as a book like any other, consisting of chapters strung along a plot line.

For similar thoughts by Brevard Childs on the need for proportionality in interpretation, see my post Two Testaments, four Gospels: The theological significance of juxtaposition. See also my post on Diachrony and Synchrony in a "canonical approach."

What is the goal of text criticism in a "canonical approach"?

This is the question I was asked in an e-mail recently. Here is my "off-the-top-of-my-head" answer:

This is a huge question and I'm not sure I can sum it up in a few words, but I'll give it a shot.

For a start, Childs' canonical approach is sensitive to the theological witness of the people of God, the "community of faith" (and not, as many seem to think, the witness of a disembodied text). This theological witness is "progressive," extending from the first prophetic utterances to the way in which those utterances were preserved, shape, and passed on to new generations, a process taking place within a dialectic relationship between the people of God and God himself. As such, even editorial changes added after the stabilization of the text, i.e. the phase leading up to the establishment of the authoritative Masoretic text in 1 C.E., ought to be taken account of as part of the theological witness of the whole.

The problem is: "who are the people of God" (as I understand Childs, who I find hard to understand). For Childs, this was and is the Jewish people who are the "authoritative tradents of the tradition," and so he believes that although the text traditions of the various communities that existed (Qumran, LXX, etc.) are interesting and ought to be taken account of, when it comes to formulating doctrine or getting at the "substance" of Scripture, the "vehicle" for such a project ought to be the text form elected by the only Jewish community to have survived till the present. This is why he argues that the goal of text criticism, as far as theological exegesis is concerned, is to reconstruct the MT of the 1st century C.E. The diachronic dimension ought to be taken into account, but only as a means of elucidating the Rabbinic Masoretic Text.

This has been critiqued by people such as Neusner, who argues that if one wants to respect the Jewish way of doing things, one mustn't make the kind of distinction Childs makes between text and tradition. For Jews they are the same thing (or something like that ...). Childs responds that this is a later development (2nd century C.E.) and raises the challenge that in making this move Judaism has distanced itself from some of its earlier traditions, which held to a strong distinction between text and tradition, Scripture and Targum. In fact, I think he believes that the collapsing of text and tradition marks a major moment in the parting of the ways of the two faiths ...

As usual, I may be getting things wrong. So please do correct me.

Update: In the comments, Michael has asked some pretty penetrating questions, to which I have responded.