Constitutional Law and Theological Exegesis

This morning when I was raking leaves (a task unrelated to that which I am now writing), I recalled a conversation I had with a friend this past summer. He is a lawyer, and he was asking me about my research on the topic of theological exegesis (I was at the time enveloped in my preparation for qualifying exams, and he was curious as to what could possibly be so interesting). My understanding of theological exegesis, I explained to him, is as follows:

Theological exegesis attempts to affirm the notion that the biblical texts, as Christian Scripture, have enduring value that may at times transcend the intention of the original authors. Moreover, I told him that theological exegesis is not opposed to the reading of the biblical texts in light of developments that arise after them (the Nicene Creed, e.g.), and that such reading does not necessarily hinder the task of interpretation, but may in fact clarify it (this is of course not a direct quote…I have removed the “ums” and upgraded my vocabulary).

He said, “That’s interesting…it sounds a lot like constitutional law debates.” My response: “Say what?” He explained to me that there are in fact several “schools” of thought related to the interpretation of the United States Constitution, and there is an ongoing debate regarding location of meaning and the task of interpretation.

On the one hand, there are those who will say that the Constitution has a meaning, that which was intended by the founding fathers. This “school” of constitutional law, called “Originalism,” holds that discernment of the original meaning of the constitution is the task of constitutional law. One may rightly place Supreme Court justices Antonin Scalia and Clarence Thomas in this “camp.” Originalists will not claim that every precept of the Constitution needs to be followed exactly…there is a certain flexibility insofar as later generations may pass laws to override that which was said earlier. The 13th amendment, for example, in outlawing slavery, would supersede that which was said in Article 4 Section 2 of the Constitution, that ”no Person held to Service or Labour in one State, under the Laws thereof, escaping into another, shall, in Consequence of any Law or Regulation therein, be discharged from such Service or Labour, but shall be delivered up on Claim of the Party to whom such Service or Labour may be due.”

On the other hand, there are those who will say that the Constitution has an original meaning, but that its significance is precisely in its ability to transcend generations and speak to contemporary situations. In this vein, called “Living Constitution,” discernment of the original meaning is important, but equally important is interpretation of the document alongside developments that have transpired since its institution. Al Gore, for example, once said that “there are liberties found in the Constitution such as the right to privacy that spring from the document itself, even though the Founders didn’t write specific words saying this, this, and this…” The late William Rehnquist once wrote, in contrast, that contemporary leaning toward the idea of living constitution is “genuinely corrosive of the fundamental values of our democratic society.”

In short, the debate concerns whether or not the meaning in the Constitution is static or dynamic: may the “meaning” of this document be something different from what the original authors intended? At its root, the debate centers around the location of meaning and the task of interpretation. Is meaning to be found in text alone, or is meaning to be found within the tradition, which includes the text alongside other factors?

I find the debate interesting given the climate surrounding theological exegesis…I just returned yesterday from the annual meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature, where I was reminded yet again that the conversation is far from over. Regarding the biblical texts, there are, broadly speaking, two schools that parallel to a certain degree those present in constitutional law debates. On the one hand, the “Originalists” will say that the biblical texts have a meaning and that this meaning is located in the text or, better yet, in the mind of the original author. On the other hand, proponents of a “living” text will not deny that there is an “original” meaning, either in the text or in the mind of the author, but they will claim that meaning may in fact transcend this original meaning and that the text may rightly be considered (and may in fact only be rightly understood) in light of its effective history.

Two caveats:

1) I’m fairly certain that anyone with a legal background will take issue with the way I’ve framed things here, and I would welcome clarification from anyone with more knowledge on the topic (please do leave comments).

2) The analogy drawn here between constitutional law and theological exegesis is imperfect, as I would claim that the biblical texts are of a different vintage than the Constitution. I include this caveat to appease some who may fear that I am making the Constitution out to be somehow corresponding to Christian Scripture…that said, I suppose the analogy could through some gasoline on discussions pertaining to American Civil Religion (Dr. Michael Gorman has a wonderful ongoing series on the topic).

Contemporary Jesus Novels as Christian Apocrypha?

In his contribution to The Reception and Interpretation of the Bible in Late Antiquity, Stephen Shoemaker takes issue with Wilhelm Schneemelcher’s definition of what constitutes the corpus of Christian Apocrypha (CA). Schneemelcher maintains that the category of CA incorporates literature that was penned with the intention of being included in the canon, and therefore any text written after the end of the fourth century (Schneemelcher’s date for the closure of the canon) is not considered CA.

Shoemaker finds Schneemelcher’s definition to be far too narrow, and I think rightly so. As an alternative, Shoemaker suggests Éric Junod’s definition of CA, which I quote here:

Anonymous or pseudepigraphical texts of Christian origin which maintain a connection with the books of the New Testament as well as the Old Testament because they are devoted to events described or mentioned in these books, or because they are devoted to events that take place in the expansion of events described or mentioned in these books, because they focus on persons appearing in these books, or because their literary genre is related to those of the biblical writings.

I find Junod’s definition of CA more appealing than Schneemelcher’s. That said, I do wonder if, in an attempt to counteract a definition that is clearly too narrow, Junod has consequently created one that is too broad.

With Junod’s definition, could we not include some contemporary Jesus novels under the rubric of CA? One would need to fudge slightly on the whole “anonymous or pseudepigraphical” bit, but not too far. Gerd Theissen’s Shadow of the Galilean could be considered pseudepigraphical in that it is written by Theissen but from the perspective of Andreas. Likewise, Christopher Moore’s Lamb, or perhaps even Bruce Longenecker’s Lost Letters of Pergamum could be classified as CA if we’re willing to open the floodgate as wide as Junod and Shoemaker propose.

This is not necessarily a bad thing…more of an observation. I’d love to hear your opinion if you have one.

Inspired ≠ Authoritative

During my years spent in seminary and working in various churches, conversations concerning the Bible tended to involve two words that were tossed around as if they were synonyms: inspired and authoritative. Even in the field of biblical scholarship, these words continue to be employed as if they express the same idea. I am inclined to think that they are not synonymous, although I would not go so far as to say that they’re completely unrelated. What follows is an attempt to outline what is meant by these terms when they’re applied to the biblical texts, as well as the reasoning behind asserting that each makes different claims.

Inspired — At a basic level, many Christians want to claim the Bible as “inspired.” What is meant by this claim varies depending on who is making it. For some, to claim the Bible as inspired is simply to remove the human hand (or mind, context, etc.) from its authorship. Namely, the Holy Spirit or an angel dictated the words to the writer, and the writer faithfully recorded them. This is a fairly popular view in many circles, although it is one with which I’ve never had much sympathy.

For others, to claim the Bible as inspired is to claim that those who penned the biblical texts were inspired by their experience of God, and that their writings reflect this experience. One could perhaps add to this second view that an inspired work engenders inspiration in those who read it, prompting them to reflect on their own experience of the divine at work in their own lives and the world around them. If one were to subscribe to this second view, as I am apt to do, then “inspired” could in fact refer to books that are outside the Canon. For example, one could argue that Augustine’s Confessions is inspired, not only because it is inspired by and expressive of Augustine’s own experience of God working in his life, but because it has for centuries inspired others to look for the hand of God in their own lives. To cite another, perhaps more controversial example, one might also say that the Gospel of Thomas is inspired, and for similar reasons.

This definition of “inspired” is certainly not without its problems, but it’s at least somewhat helpful in reframing what it means to refer to the Bible as a collection of inspired texts.

Authoritative – The notion of a text being “authoritative” seems to flow naturally from that of the text being “inspired,” as these two terms are often equated with one another. That is, the Bible is authoritative because it is inspired. Such a claim, however, isn’t tremendously helpful.

To talk about a text or texts as being authoritative (in the sense that Christians consider the Bible to be authoritative), one needs to talk first about the Canon of Scripture as well as how that Canon came to be. Traditionally, scholars have spoken of four criteria for canonicity:

1. Apostolic authorship –  a text or texts can be traced to first-generation apostles
2. Wide acceptance – the text is acknowledged by many as reliable (I use this term loosely)
3. Employed in the Liturgy – used by many in communal worship
4. Consistency – the text is in harmony with that which is taught by the received tradition

Some may argue with the finer points of these criteria, but I’m fairly certain that these basic four items are more or less accepted by the majority of scholars. Note that there is no criterion that states, “a text must be inspired,” although I suppose one could read such a notion into the first criterion. Historically speaking, the “authority” of the biblical texts comes from their proclamation as a canon. That is, at a point in time the Church deemed a collection of texts to be the regula by which to measure matters of faith.

Keeping in mind the definition of inspiration as outlined above, it is safe to say that the authority of the Bible comes from its existence as a proclaimed canon, not from the fact that its words are somehow more “inspired” than others that find themselves outside of the canon. Put another way, the Bible is not authoritative for Christians because it is inspired, the Bible is authoritative for Christians because it is the collection of documents that were recognized by the Church as authoritative. Following this logic, one could assert that all authoritative texts are inspired, but not all inspired texts are authoritative (in the sense that the Bible is authoritative).

These definitions are works in progress, and I realize that neither is without its faults. My intention in outlining them here is not to pick a fight or ruffle feathers, but rather to arrive at a better, more robust account of these notoriously loaded terms. If you’re reading this and you disagree fundamentally with what has been said (or you agree with what has been said, albeit with qualification and caution), I would like to hear your thoughts.