Reading Wright, NTPG, Chapter 12

This week I continue in The New Testament and the People of God with chapter 12 (pp. 359-70) as Wright discusses early Christian praxis, symbol, and answers to the big four questions. (Who are we, Where are we, What’s wrong, What’s the solution?)

Early Christian praxis was characterized by mission, sacrament, ethics, and conversely, by no animal sacrifice and a distinct attitude towards suffering. Christianity spread through mission, “from the very heart of early Christian conviction.” (p. 360) The sacraments of baptism and eucharist were regular practices from the beginning. There was clear ethical practice in the church, as seen in the epistles. One of the most distinct non-practices was the lack of animal sacrifice—“Unlike every other religion known in the world up to that point, the Christians offered no animal sacrifices.” (p. 363) Finally, readiness of suffer and even die before denying Christ was characteristic of early Christians.

The symbols for early Christians were different from both Romans and Jews. No holy land (nationalism), no temple, no incense, statues, and even a different view of the Torah. Indeed, what came to be the central symbol of Christianity was the cross! This is remarkable considering the view of crucifixion at that time. For most Roman society, the word was unmentionable. In an honor/shame culture, the cross was the ultimate source of shame. You would never ‘glory’ in a cross. This is why Paul’s words in Colossians 2:13-15 are so shocking. Paul uses language of a Roman triumph that God celebrates over the rulers and authorities through the death of Jesus on a cross, putting them to shame. To a Roman reading this, it would nearly break their brain. The very object that represented the awesome might and power of the Roman government was the demonstration of the power of God over and against the authorities and rulers? What kind of backwards/inverted thinking was this? Here again we see what Jesus does—reverses the order, the power, the shame, the world systems and its wisdom.

Finally, answers to the big four questions are somewhat different among early Christians, yet aligned along Jewish thinking, but taken to its conclusion. The new Christians are the true people of God (no longer Israel), marked not by being physical children of Abraham, but people who are in Christ, indwelt by the Spirit. We live in a world full of sin, but God has sent Jesus and we are in a period waiting his return. There are still power struggles and evil still exists, but the hope of Israel has been realized in Jesus the Messiah (p. 370). This victory has begun and will be completed in Him. When He returns all will be made right. In other words, the answers to the questions are now centered around Jesus.

Next week we will continue with the next two chapters where Wright will analyze early Christian stories and how they illustrate and highlight these differences.

Reading Wright, NTPG, Chapter 11

This week I continue in The New Testament and the People of God with chapter 11 (pp. 341-58) as Wright begins his discussion of the rise of Christianity in its first century (roughly up to 130 AD). This chapter discusses the challenges in studying the history of the early church and notes a few points of reference.

Simply put, there are not many sources coming out of that first century. Wright calls the sources “tiny in comparison with the Jewish material: the Greek New Testament is dwarfed on a shelf beside the Apocrypha, Pseudepigrapha, Mishnah, and Scrolls.” (p 341) How does one explain the rise of Christianity? Scholars certainly have tried and the majority of them, especially in the recent couple of centuries, do not hold to an orthodox position—taking the text at face value. It is far easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a mainstream New Testament scholar to accept a resurrection.

Wright notes of the task, “The reconstruction of the history of early Christianity must attempt to make sense of certain data within a coherent framework. It must put together the historical jigsaw of Judaism within its Greco-Roman world, of John the Baptist and Jesus as closely related to that complex world, and of the early church as starting within that world and quickly moving into the non-Jewish world of late antiquity.” (p. 345) Wright will attempt this through his lens of worldview and beliefs in subsequent chapters. The remainder of this chapter is spent noting ten fixed points of reference on which the historical data are solid. These include the crucifixion, Claudius expelling Jews from Rome, Nero’s persecution, Fall of Jerusalem, and Ignatius’ letters and martyrdom, to name a few. These points provide the reader with some fixed places into which additional data must be placed. For example, we would be well warranted in questioning a piece of data arguing for Jewish temple worship after AD 70; the temple is destroyed by then. The point is to have the broad contours sketched out. Christianity must arrive in Rome with a sufficient following to cause a disturbance under Claudius. Ignatius writing letters to seven churches on his way to be martyred means there were churches existing there long before his trip!

The next chapter will begin with the early Christian worldview. What was their worldview, and how did it express itself in early Christian symbols and practices? That is the subject of the following chapter.

Reading Wright, NTPG, Chapter 10

This week I continue in The New Testament and the People of God with chapter 10 (pp. 280-338) as Wright discusses the hope of Israel. In Wright’s three-prong monotheism, election, and eschatology, this chapter focuses on the eschatological expectations of first-century Judaism.

Wrights spends a good portion of the chapter describing the apocalyptic genre. What is important is that much of the genre is not to be taken literally, but literarily. To put it differently, descriptions of stars falling, sun not shining, and earthquakes are a way of describing in vivid imagery a disaster that isn’t literal. The fall of Jerusalem in AD 70, with the destruction of the temple, is a sample of this kind of event (and in fact, as Wright will cover in his second book, is likely what Jesus is referring to in Matthew 24). We use such vivid descriptions in our own language to describe present-day events. The election of Donald Trump in 2016 might be described as an earthquake, a country-shaking event of monumental proportions—for some, like the sun was darkened and the moon refusing to shine; for others, as if the sun had broken through the clouds. All of this is to suggest that such descriptive wording is sometimes—and may actually be more normatively—not a literal description of what is or will occur. Many of the apocalyptic passages in the book of Daniel were taken as exhortation for the people to resist the pressure from pagan nations to compromise their covenant faithfulness (p. 294).

Wright argues that “The fundamental Jewish hope was for liberation from oppression, for the restoration of the Land, and for the proper rebuilding of the Temple.” (p. 299) But this expectation had no concept of a world-ending cataclysmic event into an entire newly created earth. Jewish creational-monotheism—God created this world—and election—God chose this people—drove expectations—liberation and future existence will be in this world with this people. Expectations of resurrection drove those who strove to maintain their faithfulness even to death. God will be king, Israel will be redeemed (because God is faithful to his covenant), and humanity will be renewed. To put it in Wright terms, Israel will be vindicated/justified (p. 334).

What matters in the present, for the first century Jew, is to be faithful despite the pressures surrounding them. As stated previously in earlier chapters, what this faithfulness looked like varied by group. I hope by now you can start to sense terms and ideas that are picked up in the New Testament by its authors. This is no accident. It is in this space that Jesus walked and the New Testament is written. And that is the subject of Wright’s next part of the book, which we turn to next.

Reading Wright, NTPG, Chapter 9

This week I continue in The New Testament and the People of God with chapter 9 (pp. 244-79) as Wright discusses the beliefs of Israel. One’s worldview is often evident in the beliefs one holds, and it is to the common first-century beliefs that Wright turns the discussion.

Wright has three categories under which he will discuss a number of subjects and these are introduced here: monotheism, election, and eschatology. This framework will be repeated throughout his works as he describes Judaism, then shows what Jesus does with each, and then what Paul does on top of that.

The primary belief of Israel was monotheism, which Wright divides into creational, providential, and covenantal. Israel believed in one God (think of the great Shema of Dt 6:4-5). This God was the creator and originator of all things. He was actively involved in, and wisely in control of, his creation. And God was covenantal, He had made a covenant with Israel and He is faithful to his covenant. To let Wright provide the details, “If creational monotheism entails an eschatology (the creator must restore that which he had made), covenantal monotheism intensifies this eschatological entailment: the creator remains committed to giving order and peace to his world, and as the covenant god he remains committed to doing so through Israel.” (p 252, emphasis original) It is in the covenant with Abraham that we arrive at election.

It cannot come as a surprise that Israel considered herself to be the chosen people of God. Adam failed and Noah was chosen. Things didn’t work out so well (think of the tower of Babel) and God makes a covenant with Abraham, through Abraham and his descendants all the nations will be blessed (Gen 12:1-3). Israel as seen as God’s ‘solution’ to the Adamic fall. But of course Israel is a mess. Most of the Old Testament describes the failures of this chosen people. But throughout the prophets God continues to repeat his promise that he will redeem his people and restore them (think of Jer 31). But when would this happen? When would God’s covenant faithfulness be expressed, or, to put it in more prophetic and Biblical language, when would God’s righteousness be demonstrated? (p 272) The question of when brings us to eschatology.

In order for Israel to be restored, God would forgive her sins—it was believed by a first-century Jew that they were in exile because they had sinned. There is a distinction to be made here, “The most natural meaning of the phrase ‘the forgiveness of sins’ to a first-century Jew is not in the first instance the remission of individual sins, but the putting away of the whole nation’s sins. And, since the exile was the punishment for those sins, the only sure sign that the sins had been forgiven would be the clear and certain liberation from exile.” (p 273, emphasis original) Previous discussions have covered how the multiple groups within Judaism believed this was to be accomplished. But that was the hope, the expectation. And Wright will spend the next chapter entirely focused on the hope of Israel.

The beliefs of Israel at this time is best summed up by Wright, “There is one creator god, who has chosen Israel to be his people, giving her his Torah and establishing her in his holy land. He will act for her and through her to re-establish his judgment and justice, his wisdom and his shalom, throughout the world.” (p 279, emphasis original)

Reading Wright, NTPG, Chapter 8

This week I continue in The New Testament and the People of God with chapter 8 (pp. 215-43) as Wright discusses the elements of Israel’s worldview. As he noted in chapter 3, worldviews are visible through story, symbol, and praxis, and it is on these three areas that he narrows the focus.

The great story of Scripture was of creation, fall, and redemption. Abraham’s call was seen as the solution to Adam’s sin—all nations would be blessed through the descendants of Abraham. But things did not go so well. The book of Judges provides a glimpse of the problems. David seems to be the new solution, but he and his descendants don’t do so well either. Israel is finally taken into exile, then returned to the land, but under foreign rulers. “The great story of the Hebrew Scriptures was therefore inevitably read in the second-temple period as a story in search of a conclusion.” (p. 217) To put it in current context, it is as if the stories (and movies) Lord of the Rings and Two Towers were written and made, but Return of the King didn’t exist! We would expect there to be a finale, something that actually completed the story! So did the second-temple Israelites.

As we saw in the previous chapter, the diversities of Judaism were the views of what needed to happen to ensure God’s people were ready for the story fulfillment (separation, greater Torah faithfulness, military resistance, etc). Second temple Jews told themselves stories not only of how they got here, but where they were going. Wright expands on this beautifully, “In helping us to understand how the first-century Jewish worldview functioned, and how the biblical stories which reinforced it would have been heard, it also gives us a grid against which we can measure the alternative stories told, implicitly and explicitly, by Jesus, Paul and the evangelists, and to see their points of convergence and divergence.” (p. 223, my emphasis) This was a key understanding for me.

The second element of a worldview is symbol, visible through temple, land, Torah, racial identity (p. 224). Wright notes that the temple was 25% of the city of Jerusalem (p. 225)! For the Jew, the temple was critical. God had promised Abraham a land and at the present, Israel was in the land, but it was ruled by the Romans. The covenant made with Israel, the Torah, was the guidelines and rules to follow. And the Jews were a distinct people; indeed, you see that Samaritans were despised because they had intermarried with other peoples. 

The third element of a worldview is praxis, or the actions. Festivals, studying the Scriptures, circumcision, Sabbath, and kosher laws were the activities (or refraining from) practiced in the outworking of this unique people. These helped set them apart, and provided a continual reminder of who they were. Wright sums up the importance of these practices by noting that “maintaining the marks of Jewish distinctiveness was quite simply non-negotiable.” (p. 238)

Finally, “the prevailing second-temple belief that the real return from exile had not yet occurred… the entire story… [was] the still unfinished story of the creator, the covenant people, and the world.” (p. 242) This was the expectation in the first century. This was what the scribes and Pharisees searched the Scriptures for. We are the people of God, in exile, waiting for Him to save us. What must we do? When will this occur?

Reading Wright, NTPG, Chapter 7

This week I continue in The New Testament and the People of God with chapter 7 (pp 167-214) as Wright describes the rise and diversity of the strains of “Judaisms” in the first century. While all Jews were united around a set of common beliefs (one God, Torah, covenant people, etc.), the Maccabean revolution and following splintered the people into at least three groups that continued into the first century (as a parallel, think of Greek Orthodox, Roman Catholic, and Protestant). Yet these Jewish groups “cherished the hope that the covenant god would again act in history, this time to restore the fortunes of his internally-exiled people.” (p 167) But—and this is the key point—“when Israel’s god finally acted to redeem his people, those who would benefit would be those who had in the mean time kept the covenant boundaries in tact.” (p 168) In other words, a distinguishing mark of these groups was what it meant to keep the covenant boundaries!

The big issue following the Maccabean revolt was that the offices of the king and priest were combined into one person. This ended up being a disaster! Thus you have a rise in diversity, especially as pressure from the outside increased, up to and following conquest by Rome.

Wright speaks of the constant state of revolt, with a number of these occurring between 63 BC and 66 AD. He notes that “revolution of one sort or another was in the air.” (p 176) It is likely that the zeal the Maccabees had shown set an example that later revolutionaries followed, in their attempts to maintain covenant faithfulness (p 180). Wright begins to describe the three main groups, starting with the Pharisees.

“The Pharisaic agenda [was]… to purify Israel by summoning her to return to the true ancestral traditions; to restore Israel to her independent theocratic status; and to be, as a pressure group, in the vanguard of such movements by the study and practice of Torah.” (p 189) In other words, they were both zealous and studious (p 190). Many of the revolts Wright describes were driven by, or at least involved, Pharisees! They went further than most in their attempts to “maintain a purity at a degree higher than prescribed in the Hebrew Bible for ordinary Jews.” (p 195) Ultimately, they believed “Israel’s god will act; but loyal Jews may well be required as the agents and instruments of that divine action.” (p 201)

The Essenes were a group who entirely separated themselves from the Jewish community and lived on their own in the desert at Qumran. They considered the current Jewish lifestyle and the pollution of the culture to require a complete withdrawal from it, including from the temple itself! Rather, “at least one branch [of Essenes] regarded itself not just as the true Israel but as the true temple.” (p 205) This group considered themselves to be true Israelites, truly faithful, and God is acting in and through them (p 206).

Lastly, the Sadducees, which includes the priests and aristocrats. This was the ruling class and most heavily compromised by the culture and Roman rule. Denying resurrection, this group “had no time for laws other than those in the Bible.” (p 211) For them, the temple was central. Maintaining power was a close second.

The ordinary Jew prayed, attended the annual feasts, and attempted to keep the biblical commands (p 214). It is unlikely that they had much time for the nuances of the debates between these groups.

To conclude with a focus on the Pharisees, this is a group who believed that in order to bring about the vindication of Israel and salvation of its people, they must exhibit covenant faithfulness to God by following the Torah and their traditions carefully. So imagine a man shows up and begins to speak as if the Torah should be interpreted and defined by him, one who speaks of vindication through death, and one who rejects the cherished belief that their traditions must be carefully followed. What is a Pharisee to do with such a man? What is a Sadducee to do with a man who redefines the temple to be himself and thus no need for the one in Jerusalem?! As we shall see as we dig deeper, their reaction to him is unsurprising. 

Reading Wright, NTPG, Chapter 6

This week I continue in The New Testament and the People of God with chapter 6 (pp 147-66) as Wright begins part 3 of his book on first century Judaism with the setting of the story. Chapters 6-10 attempt to orient the reader to the first century by describing how the Jews got here (and what ‘here’ is; ch 6), what is their response (ch 7), what is their worldview and beliefs (ch 8-9), and what do they hope for (ch 10)?

Israel is under Roman rule, in the Second Temple period, in a long-considered ‘exile’ that began (for Judea) in 587 BC, when the first temple (built by Solomon) was destroyed. Though the Jews have returned to the land and rebuilt the temple, the presence of Gentile rulers was still indicative of ongoing exile.

Alexander the Great conquered much of the known world in the fourth century BC and Hellenism spread throughout the region, with Greek language, thought, and culture becoming dominant. Suffering under multiple tyrants, Israel was briefly able to free themselves under the Hasmoneans in the second century BC, only to be reconquered by Pompey (Rome) in the first century BC, barely 100 years later.

Wright emphasizes the multiplicity of cults and the numerous gods and pagan practices throughout the Roman empire (p 154-56). Like some American cities with ‘a church on every corner,’ first century space was “full of reminders of the pagan way of life.” (p 155) To a Jew, this would be highly offensive.

The Jews were distinct among all of the various cultures for worshiping one god; the surrounding cultures considered the Jews atheists because of this odd form (they did not worship ‘the gods’). However, the Jews were given an exception to the Roman law that required sacrifice to the gods. The Romans, like those before them, found the Jews to be quite stubborn in their insistence of worshiping only one god!

Post Jesus, in the latter half of the first century AD and early second century, the Jews revolted twice; the first resulted in the temple’s destruction a second time (70 AD) and the second resulted in a complete loss and dispersal (135 AD).

I think one of the most significant takeaways from this chapter (and it will be reinforced in subsequent chapters) is the perspective of the Jewish people at the time of Jesus: we are in exile, under foreign rule, because of our lack of faithfulness to God. The solution, as we will see in the next chapter, will vary.

Reading Wright, NTPG, Parts 1-2 Summary

Before continuing to the next chapter in The New Testament and the People of God, I want to summarize my thoughts on the first two parts of this book (Chapters 1-5, pp 1-144). These chapters represent Wright's epistemology; reading with a critical realist eye, taking a both/and approach to many of the typically either/or debates. In my comments on the first chapter, I briefly mentioned the pre-modern, modern, and post-modern periods. Painting with very broad brush strokes, I want to illustrate the foundational epistemology of each (specifically in reference to areas of the New Testament: history, literature, theology).

In the pre-modern period, especially after the first century and those who received the New Testament, the Bible was knowable because of authority; that is, God had spoken it, He speaks truth, therefore, it is known. Some might call this knowledge through revelation. In classic Christianity, it was faith seeking understanding.

The modern period moved the basis of authority and knowledge from revelation (God has spoken) to rationality; Descartes "I think, therefore I am." The rise of the critical disciplines came and much of the Bible was questioned, some of the traditional interpretations were thrown out because the interpretation did not pass rational muster. In a way, the classic Christian model was reversed: now understanding was seeking faith. Yet some of this was good and necessary. To quote Wright, "Christians have often imagined that they were defending Christianity when resisting the Enlightenment's [Modern] attacks; but it is equally plausible to suggest that what would-be orthodox Christianity was defending was often the pre-Enlightenment worldview, which was itself no more specifically 'Christian' than any other." (p 9) 

We arrive at post-modernism and rationality is thrown out! What's left? The Self. Knowledge is now limited by one's experience and (in the radical view) cannot be shared among others. It is a hyper-empirical model. Authority and knowledge now rest in the self. "My truth, your truth, no absolute truth." Reading becomes reduced entirely to how it impacts me. It seems to me that the post-modern epistemology is self-defeating. Taken to its 'logical' conclusion (you can see how even the idea of logic in a post-modern view can't even make sense), nothing can be known or communicated. History is unknowable.

What Wright does with his both/and approach is attempt to take the wheat from each of these models, while discarding the chaff. One of the reactions of Christianity to the modern period was to double down on traditional interpretations, some of which needed to be abandoned. Unfortunately, Christianity has tended to get its interpretations mixed into its view of the inspiration and inerrancy of Scripture. Not to mention a lack of nuance of exactly what it means by those terms. The interpretation is not inspired or inerrant! Nor does inerrancy equal literal interpretation.

The following is my reading of the wheat/chaff in these early chapters by era (quite likely I have some categories mixed):

	Wheat	Chaff
Pre-Modern	Scripture speaks truthfully of God (p 128)	Interpretation by authority (p 7) History cannot question faith (p 9)
Modern	Reading the Bible historically (critically; p 60)	Separation of supernatural and rational/natural (p 10, 97)
Post-Modern	Rejection of positivism (hardline objective/subjective distinctions, p 97) Emphasis on narrative (p 38)	History is unknowable (p 54) Reading as only phenomenon (self-centered; p 59) Rejection of revelation (p 128)

An author, even a post-modern one, intends to communicate something to the reader, with the intent of changing or informing the reader. The best way to understand what is being communicated (especially in the area of the NT) is to become more aware of the author's worldview and that of the intended audience and see where it differs. What the New Testament authors are ultimately communicating is either a new or modified worldview to the reader--what God started with Abraham He has completed in Jesus. To the Jew, this is a modification. To the Greek, this is new. The goal is to change the reader's worldview, to begin to see the world through Jesus as Messiah. And so we must enter the world of the first century, which is where the next chapters will take us.

Reading Wright, NTPG, Chapter 5

I continue reading The New Testament and the People of God in chapter 5 (pp 121-144), on theology, authority, and the New Testament. This is the final chapter in the first part of this book, where he is laying out his epistemology for his entire multi-volume work. I think in this chapter what he is addressing is an objection (among the many) that the New Testament does theology, not objective history; he is attempting to demonstrate why all of these things (literature, history, theology) come together in the New Testament. He does this by taking the reader on a deeper dive into what constitutes a worldview.

Wright opens the chapter by hoping he has made the reader aware there is no such thing as 'objective history.' All history is written in a time, place, culture, and within its author's worldview. History is always selected and interpreted. This does not make it right or wrong; but it does communicate something to us (ie, why this and not that). And the more we are aware of the worldview of the author (and our own), the more we will be able to better understand what is being communicated.

Wright argues that worldview can be seen in the four elements of what it does (pp 123-4): it provides stories through which human beings view reality which provide answers to the basic questions of human existence expressed through cultural symbols and which is visible in the way people act (praxis). I didn't discuss his four basic questions of human existence when first introduced, but he goes through them again in this chapter (pp 132-3): who are we; where are we; what is wrong; what is the solution? We are story-telling beings, so it is natural that we would express answers to our basic questions in the form of stories. We are embodied beings, so it is to be expected that our answers will be expressed in physical, symbolic forms and acted out/upon. As an example, in first century Israel Passover was a powerful symbol that was acted out in the Passover meal as the story was retold of God's salvation from Egypt because He had chosen them as His people.

Worldviews, through which we view the world, are seen in basic beliefs and aims which then give rise to consequent beliefs and intentions (p 125-26). Wrights suggests that most conversation occurs at the level of consequent beliefs while the basic beliefs and worldview assumptions remain unspoken. Thus, one of the tasks of Wright is to peel back and expose the basic beliefs and worldview elements of the first century in order to better understand some of the 'surface' of the New Testament.

What then is the function of theology? Wright argues that "theology highlights what we might call the god-dimension of a worldview" (p 130). Unfortunately, and I am guilty of this, we should not separate Christian theology from its underlying worldview and stories to make it serve a truncated purpose of answering dogmatic or abstract questions.

Wright sums up, "The Christian reader of the New Testament is committed to a task which includes within itself 'early Christian history' and 'New Testament theology', while showing that neither of these tasks... can be self-sufficient. And this fuller reading... includes as one vital part of itself the task of telling the story of Jesus, with the assumption that this story took place within public history." (p 139) In short, combining literature, history, and theology.

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Reading Wright, NTPG, Chapter 4

I continue reading The New Testament and the People of God in chapter 4 (pp 81-120), on history and the first century. Yet again, I find myself having made simplistic assumptions about the nature of history and access to the historical record that need refinement and Wright provides assistance in revisiting (and revising) these assumptions.

History is not, as I had thought, simply an objective report of the facts. All history involves selection and interpretation into narration (83). This is, upon reflection, rather obvious, even in how one reports events in one's own life. I do not (and can not) report every detail--colors, objects, and most events are selectively eliminated. If I tell a story about going to the grocery store, I will avoid describing every car in the lot, every stop sign, tree, and basket I come across (lest I drive away the listener). Thus, Wright defines history as "the meaningful narrative of events and intentions." (82) The selection and interpretation embedded and communicated in the story is exactly what history is, not a reason to reject it. The author's bias is no reason to reject the story as it is reported (89).

One of the big issues in New Testament studies is that the stories contain reports of events that to the modern mind are impossible (miracles). Wrights counters that "one cannot rule out a priori the possibility of things occurring in ways not normally expected, since to do so would be to begin from the fixed point that a particular worldview, namely the eighteenth-century rationalist one, or its twentieth-century positivist successor, is correct in postulating that the universe is simply a 'closed continuum' of cause and effect." (92) I'll put it a different way. The writers of the New Testament intended to change the reader's worldview! Trying to fit Jesus into the "good teacher" straight-jacket fails to account for the majority of the New Testament data. This brings us to Wright's three-point suggestion for a good hypothesis.

A good hypothesis is one that includes the data, constructs a simple and coherent picture, and assists in explaining other problems (99-100). Wright traces examples of theories which satisfy the second while failing badly at the first (like the 'good teacher' hypothesis). We must be careful in our reading of history and the criteria that we use as we read. Wright argues, "If the controlling criterion for a particular story is its ability to legitimate a particular stance, whether Christian or not, we have collapsed the epistemology once more in the opposite direction, that of phenomenalism. The historical evidence is only to be used provided it functions as a mirror in which we can see ourselves as we wanted to see ourselves." (103, emphasis original) Wright argues that both the fundamentalist and the secular scholar have read parts of Jesus the way they wanted him to be (or not to be), failing to either account for all the data, or failing to provide a coherent picture. This is a danger in any historical reading. Part of the critical realist approach is a spiral of hypothesis and verification with the text and other historical sources. A great example of this, to be discussed in the future, is the whole debate around the New Perspective on Paul. Much of the debate surrounds reading the sixteenth century Luther-Catholic debate of faith-works back into the first century of Paul's writings. To provide a very silly analogy, we would never think that had Lincoln encouraged Grant to beat the South by any means necessary, it would have been an authorization to use nuclear weapons--those didn't exist in the nineteenth century!

Wright then discusses the relationship between history and meaning, and in particular, that it is possible to get to a certain set of meanings even with the historical method (ie, the 'why')! Some might argue that historical knowledge is limited only to the event itself and any other discussion moves into the area of psychology. On the contrary, Wright says, "History, then, includes the study of aims, intentions, and motivations. This does not mean that history is covert psychology." (111) In other words, we don't need to ask Jesus to lay down on the therapist's couch to determine his intention in telling the story of the Good Samaritan to a Jewish audience (modifying Wright's imagery on 116). At a minimum, we can certainly say what his intentions were not (winning more Jewish friends, for example). Ultimately, the meaning of an event may impact and change the hearer's worldview (117). As suggested earlier, this is precisely what the authors of the New Testament authors intend.

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Reading Wright, NTPG, Chapter 3

This week continues The New Testament and the People of God in chapter 3 (pp 47-80), on literature, story, and worldview. There is quite a bit covered in this chapter and is setting up more of the 'ground rules' by which Wright will do his reading of the New Testament.

Since most history comes via literature, Wright begins by describing some of the ways of reading literature and how history is reported. I found this discussion helpful and it builds on his discussion of objective/subjective in the previous chapter. A naïve view of history is that the author is simply reporting the events of the past and you as the reader have direct access through this 'report' to the events (p 82). But, applying a critical lens should allow us to see that direct objective history ("just the facts, Ma'am") is not possible--an author will select and describe scenes, activity, and stories. To use an analogy of Dr. Bock's, there are multiple cameras at sporting events, each providing a different angle of the event. The angle itself determines what is visible ('selected') and what is not. Reading critically is understanding that the historical reporting is a selected (sometimes biased, inaccurate, false) report.

However, a post-modern, to my surprise, takes this to an extreme with a 'phenomenalist reading' of a text--the only thing that matters (and is knowable) is what the text means to me; everything else is unreachable. Yet I hear (and have said) this very thing frequently stated in Bible studies, "What this passage says/means to me..." The church has swallowed the culture. The intention of the author, the original culture, the meaning of the words in their context don't matter (or are unknowable); only the present 'phenomenon' of the text and me is meaningful at the moment. This, of course, means that everyone will construct their own meaning, no meaning is "right or wrong," allows the reader to throw away anything that offends, and ultimately, it prevents any possibility of accessing the past.

Wright advocates instead for a critical realistic reading (pp 61-4), where both the impact on the reader is acknowledged and the text as its own thing is recognized. The author wrote with the intent of communicating something; it is possible to access that (usually), but with caution, recognizing that the author may have lied, misreported, misunderstood, etc. In other words, we read critically but realistically. We also read understanding that such activity impacts us as readers--we might have our minds, or better yet, our worldviews changed! "I suggest that human writing is best conceived as the articulation of worldviews, or, better still, the telling of stories which bring worldviews into articulation." (p 65, emphasis original) You might begin to wonder if Wright is going to suggest that the purpose of the New Testament authors was to alter the reader's worldview(s). Absolutely!

Wright then moves on to a narrative analysis that I have found both delightful and very helpful, worked out by an A.J. Griemas (pp 69-77). It divides stories into three sequences and there is a careful format that is followed to expose the story form. One has to wonder what kind of tedious new diagramming technique these scholars are inventing, but there is a point! Often stories become so familiar we lose the essential emphasis of the story itself and this level of analysis allows us to identify it again. He takes the reader through the story of Little Red Riding-Hood and then turns to the parable of the vineyard (Mk. 12:1-12; pp 74-5). The jaw-dropping story point is that God will use Rome to judge the Jewish people for their failure to be the people God intended them to be! Talk about shaking up a first-century Jewish worldview. Jesus takes the story of Israel and redraws it (with himself at the center); Paul will redraw the Jewish story around Jesus (p 79). Wright finds the narrative analysis helpful in bringing this out more clearly and I found it very helpful throughout his work. 

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Reading Wright, NTPG Chapter 2

This week continues The New Testament and the People of God in chapter 2 (pp 31-46), on knowledge, specifically, the basis for knowledge and how one knows, or, my dad's favorite word, epistemology. Wright attempts to navigate the reader through the quagmire of objective v. subjective, positivist v. phenomenalist, to arrive at his position of critical realism.

My first time through this chapter was a real eye-opener, as I had been classically trained to assume an objective (positivist) view of knowledge--that such knowledge was possible. To put it differently, there are certain kinds of knowledge that can be known for certain, without question, an 'objective' knowledge in which there is no doubt. Apparently this has been rejected by most philosophers for quite some time (p 33). On the opposite side is the denial of any certainty and one is left with only the phenomenon, the subjective experience and interpretation that is unique to the person. This latter one certainly describes some of the current cultural moment. And I don't think Wright would deny 'objective' knowledge when it comes to mathematical proofs. He does start off the chapter emphasizing his discussion of knowledge will narrow into the areas of literature, history, and theology (areas essential to the study of the New Testament). In this area, you have wide polarity: from one can know with absolute certainty to one cannot know anything with any level of confidence. To use his illustration, how confident can I be that Caesar crossed the Rubicon (p 34)?

Critical realism is Wright's attempt at navigating these extremes while not trying to rescue either position. Rather, he proposes that critical realism "sees knowledge of particulars as taking place within the larger framework of the story or worldview which forms the basis of the observer's way of being in relation to the world... knowledge takes place, within this model, when people find things that fit with the particular story or (more likely) stories to which they are accustomed to give allegiance." (p 37, emphasis original) In other words, stories are how we make sense of the world, and stories are one of the essential components that make up one's worldview. I actually think this is a contribution that post-modernism has given us, a helpful emphasis on narrative. Human beings live far more as story-telling-beings versus data-driven-logicians.

Wright then wraps the chapter up by suggesting that questions arise when one's stories are insufficient to answer questions that arise from current events (p 40ff). But we do so from within the context of these stories! In other words, worldview and story are preconditions to hypothesis and interpretation. The stories I believe may conflict with yours. And importantly, if your story fits better with the event (more explanatory), I may come to believe that is the better story--and perhaps change parts of my worldview in the process. Not all stories go down to the level of worldview. But we are dealing with the New Testament and the claim that God has come in the flesh in Jesus the Messiah. This story is covered with all kinds of worldview questions!

I found his discussion helpful in the area of New Testament study because I have (regretfully) used the phrase "it is true because the Bible says it" as a primary argument. I considered the Bible to be a source of objective truth and my interpretation of it to be objective and therefore my statement was objective. I no longer think this. It is not helpful in discussing Biblical interpretation. Wright, and the position I now hold, suggests using far greater nuance in discussions of history and theology. What is my worldview? What are the stories I tell myself (or that I have received from others) and believe to be true? How might these stories influence my reading of the text? And--this is one of the reasons why I think Wright is focused on this so early--thinking through these things helps us view first century Judaism and the stories it told itself--and therefore what the New Testament is doing with the stories it tells! I think you will see as the discussion continues what a powerful lens this view provides.

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Reading Wright, NTPG Chapter 1

Since my introduction to N.T. Wright's magnificent series of books on Christian Origins, I have wanted to blog my way through them. At the present, there are four volumes in five books. The series begins with The New Testament and the People of God (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress Press, 1992) [Hereafter NTPG]. I was first exposed to this series taking a class from Dr. Darrell Bock on the subject of Historical Jesus. I can genuinely say that class changed me in a significant way, in large part because of reading Dr. Wright. It is my hope you will find my observations and comments as I reread this series helpful in your Christian walk.

Chapter 1, pp 3-28, introduces the reader to the task that Wright has set out: writing about Jesus in his historical context and on Paul in his. Much ink has been spilled over the last couple of centuries on the question of Historical Jesus--is the presentation of Jesus in the Gospels historical? Theological? Myth? Did Paul invent Christianity? The answers vary widely. Unfortunately, within the variety of answers have come quite opposite reactions to the answers, such as fundamentalism in response to the very liberal versions of Christianity in the late 19th and early 20th century. One was allowed a narrow range of interpretation before an accusation of liberal was cast one's way and one was 'driven out of the temple'. Sadly, there are wonderful contributions on all sides of New Testament study, whether form criticism, rhetorical, source, literary, or others. Much can be gleaned. And much is lost with a narrow focus on just one. Wright wants the New Testament to be read so that it can be heard in all its glory. This means understanding first century Jewish, Roman, and Greek culture. It means realizing that Jesus is doing his ministry in the latter part of Second Temple Judaism (roughly 4th century BC to 1st century AD). Jesus is speaking to a thoroughly first century Jewish people. Paul writes to a first century Roman-Greek people, primarily Gentile. It means we are in for a bit of culture shock. It also means we might just have to ask some tough questions. And we may not like some of the answers! But we must ask. We must seek. We must knock.

We must also recognize the time in which we live. Christianity was birthed in what we might call the pre-modern era; we find ourselves in the post-modern era. Thus, we must also learn from what each era brought to New Testament study: reading it as authoritative (pre-modern), reading it critically (modern), and reading phenomenologically (post-modern; p 27). Each has its contributions; each has its limitations. Wright will take us on a journey that navigates us through each, attempting to sift the wheat from the chaff. One that this reader has found to be very fruitful, and I hope you will too.

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