Whatever Happened to Literal Hermeneutics? (Part 1)

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(From Theologically Driven)

For decades it was assumed, by both sides of the debate between dispensational and Reformed theology, that the primary distinction between the two models (there were really no other viable evangelical options in the early days) was hermeneutical—dispensationalists held consistently to a “literal” reading of Scripture (and most importantly the OT prophetic portions of Scripture), while the Reformed were comfortable with a nonliteral (e.g., spiritual or typological) interpretation of those same texts.

Anthony Hoekema, for instance, reflecting this understanding from a Reformed perspective, wrote in his chapter of The Meaning of the Millennium,

Premillennialists, particularly those of dispensationalist persuasion, are committed to what is commonly called the ‘literal’ interpretation of Old Testament prophecy…. Amillennialists, on the other hand, believe that though many Old Testament prophecies are indeed to be interpreted literally, many others are to be interpreted in a nonliteral way. (172)

The reasons that non-dispensationalists felt comfortable reading the Scriptures in this way are manifold, but much of the argument rested on the premise that the Bible was not a “normal” book. Unlike ordinary books, the Bible is inspired, the Bible has a unique sort of dual authorship (God and the human author), and the meaning of the Bible is in some sense mediated through the Holy Spirit, who alone knows the mind of God perfectly. For these and other reasons, the Bible cannot be boxed in by the so-called “received laws of language” that seem to govern other literature.

As time has passed (and as mediating positions have multiplied), the argument has changed. Rather than seeing two fundamental hermeneutical approaches, it is common for all of the multiplied parties debating this issue to concede that the “grammatical/historical” method is the common property of all, and then for each to demonstrate that its distinctive application of this shared method is more exegetically defensible. The new leading distinction between theological systems is thus no longer about hermeneutics, but is rather about exegesis and biblical theology. Consequently, the only piece of Ryrie’s trifold sine qua non of dispensationalism that survives, for many, is its distinction between Israel and the Church in the unfolding of biblical theology.

It is my contention in this blog series that this concession has weakened dispensationalism. Specifically, it has barred from debate the transcendental discussion of the “received laws of language” as presuppositional to the exegetical task. This topic is too complex to unfold in a few paragraphs, so if the reader is willing to receive this argument over the course of weeks, I will attempt to complete it in a short series of posts. Many thanks in advance for your patience.

Correspondence & Coherence

When evaluating the truth or error of any proposed theological statement or system, there are two primary questions that the theologian asks: the question of correspondence and the question of coherence. In using these two terms, I am using two recognized philosophical categories, but not necessarily as all users would define them.

Correspondence

In suggesting that we must test a given theological statement or system for its correspondence, I do not mean, as many do, that we ask whether or not it corresponds to “reality” as variously defined in the marketplace of ideas; instead, I mean that we ask whether or not it corresponds to God’s reality as he has defined it. In short we ask, “Does this theological statement/system agree with what God has said in the Christian Scriptures?” In developing any truly biblical system of theology, we spend the lion’s share of our time answering this question. That is because the Christian Scriptures are the Norma Normans non Normata, the governing norm of truth that may not be subjected to manipulation or modification. Bottom line: If a given theological statement/system contradicts the Bible, then that statement/system, however clever, is invalid.

Coherence

The question of correspondence is not, however, the only question that concerns the systematic theologian. He must also establish the coherence of his system: the system must agree with itself. If a theological system can survive only by patching up its violations of the received laws of logic and language with appeals to “mystery,” then it is compromised.

For example, assuming a non-equivocating definition of the term omnipotent, a valid theological system cannot countenance a God that is mysteriously both omnipotent and not-omnipotent at the same time. Or, assuming again a non-equivocating definition of the term justification, a valid theological system cannot permit justification to be simultaneously both by works and by faith alone. Any system that permits such absurdities breaks at least one and often several fundamental laws of logic (in this case, viz., the law of identity [A = A] and the law of contradiction [A ≠ not-A]).

For this reason, a systematic theologian must spend time harmonizing texts that seem to contradict (e.g., Job 42:2 with Titus 1:2 and James 1:13 for the issue of omnipotence; Galatians 2:16 with James 2:24 for the issue of justification). At times he is obliged to scuttle his theories; sometimes, however, he is able to tweak and strengthen them by exploring exegetical options and by crafting out carefully nuanced definitions that render his system coherent. Bottom line: If a given theological statement/system contradicts itself, it is invalid.

The question of record for this blog post is whether the theologian’s hermeneutical method is a matter of correspondence or a matter of coherence: are hermeneutical principles (1) something to be discovered in the Bible itself and constructed inductively from what I find there? Or are hermeneutical principles (2) something to be settled as a matter of transcendental presupposition before I can even start reading the Bible?

My answer (and what to me stands at the centerpiece of the concept of “literal” interpretation) is that the latter option is of necessity true. The laws of language are received by divine grant and are a priori axioms necessary to the coherent, intelligible reading of anything: they must be assumed before they can be demonstrated. Apart from this axiomatic premise, coherent communication would fail us and linguistic anarchy would prevail. In fact, in order for someone to disagree with this position, I would submit, he would have to assume the position in order to express his disagreement with it (which is why I have labeled it a transcendental argument).

Those who use a non-literal (typological/allegorical/spiritual) hermeneutical method do not make this assumption, or at the very least not to the same degree I do. Instead, their hermeneutical method is in part a matter of exegetical discovery. So, for instance, when a non-literalist sees in Matthew 2:15 and 18 the use of a fulfillment formula in connection with two improbable Old Testament historical narratives (Hos 11:1 and Jer 31:15, respectively), he stands quite ready to humbly allow exegesis to correct his presumptive hermeneutic. What’s more, the non-literalist can also argue that since Matthew has validated this appealing new hermeneutic under inspiration, the contemporary reader now has exegetical warrant to interpret other texts in the same way.

The literalist, on the other hand, while not unmindful that depraved minds can distort the received laws of language, is much more disposed, based on his view of the transcendental nature of those laws, to think that his interpretive errors will be resolved by exegetical adjustment than by a radical overhaul of his whole hermeneutical method. And so, rather than acceding quickly to unique hermeneutical models unknown outside the biblical corpus, he will expend enormous effort exhausting all the possible exegetical options available to him within the bounds of a “normal” hermeneutic.

And even if he fails, he is reluctant to concede the existence of a whole new hermeneutical method, much less a prescriptive one. He is reluctant because he knows that appeals to exegesis as a precedent for a unique and non-literal hermeneutical method potentially undermines not only (1) the received laws of language, but also (2) the accessibility of the Scriptures to all who are not apprised of the special method, and (3) perhaps even the integrity and authority of the Bible itself.

This, I would submit, is the heartbeat of literal interpretation.

Next time: What are these “received laws of language” of which I speak? And if we cannot trust Matthew or Luke or Paul to delineate these laws, why should we accept the doodlings of some 21st-century chump (yours truly)?

Discussion

GNB:

I say again one should wait for further unpacking by Dr. Snoeberger. Your apparent working definition will not forward the issue, I’m afraid. It seems so outdated: too many whiskers on it.

Rolland McCune

I, like others, look forward to future articles. I fail to see, however, how labels such as “outdated” and “too many whiskers” serves to promote profitable discussion.

I assume that Rolland McCune wants SI readers to know that my questions have already been answered by others, or will be answered in future articles. The value of this blog is seeing answers juxtaposed with assertions as they appear. Those who follow this thread can thereby examine both sides of the question and draw their own conclusions.

G. N. Barkman

Is hypocrisy the plain and literal meaning of leaven?

It’s not “leaven.” It is “leaven of the Pharisees” (that gives it context to make clear that it isn’t your “literal meaning”) and yes, that is the plain and literal meaning. You can’t omit 3/4 of the words and then ask what it means. You say, “How would they have known if Christ hadn’t told them?” But Christ rebuked them for not knowing, which seems to indicate that his meaning was, or at least should have been, clear. I don’t think this is hard. There may be some hard ones in the Bible, but this is not one of them.

I am with Dr. McCune on this one. I think you created a straw man in the beginning and then doubled down on it here. Remember, literal interpretation does not deny the use of figures, metaphors, etc. That’s not a new thing. I think that is Dr. McCune’s point about it being outdated. You are responding to something no one believes, something that has been answered for a very long time.

This is a series of articles which I presume will all be posted. It will be well worth reading it all.

The plain, literal meaning of “the leaven of the Pharisees” is baking ingredients used by the Pharisees. That’s why the disciples thought it had something to do with bread. Could it refer to actual “leaven.” Yes. Does it? No, as Jesus makes clear. As for Christ’s scolding the disciples for not understanding, He expected them to know that “literal whenever possible” is not a foundational hermeneutic. It was the disciples mistaken reliance upon this hermeneutic that Christ scolded.

Those who are committed to the “literal whenever possible” rule break it regularly, but often insist that that’s not what they are doing. When they decide that a statement requires a non-literal meaning, they claim that this is not an abrogation of this hermeneutic, but when someone else decides that a statement requires a non-literal meaning (with which they do not agree), they accuse him of “spiritualizing.” Jesus and the writers of NT Scripture did an awful lot of “spiritualizing.”

G. N. Barkman

I don’t believe anybody here is advocating the kind of wooden literalism you use in your example. Context will help here. Ironically, I was having a discussion with a church member about the disputation between Luther and Zwingli in Marburg in 1630, and how the two of them couldn’t agree on the Lord’s Supper. Luther insisted on a wooden, literalistic interpretation of Mt 26:26 and Zwingli grew exasperated while trying to advocate for a symbolic meaning (Schaff, History of the Christian Church [Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2011] , 7:642ff).

So, I think it would be more helpful to focus on real issues. For example, you have the land promises of the Abrahamic Covenant and the promise of Ezekiel’s Temple. Unless you have some kind of Scriptural context to interpret these non-literally (as you did in your example with the leaven), then you are making a mistake. Otherwise, me and many other people would have gouged out our eyes and lopped off our hands a long time ago. These, and many other issues, are why there is a hermeneutical divide.

Tyler is a pastor in Olympia, WA and works in State government.

Tyler,

Wooden Literalism, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. As, “One man’s trash is another’s treasure,” so one man’s wooden literalism is another’s plain meaning of Scripture. My problem is with those who reserve the right to deviate from literalism when they find it necessary, but accuse others of unfaithfulness when they don’t like their interpretations. Ezekiel’s Temple is a good example. Try to build it as described, or better yet, explain how the river described can be a literal river. To many of us, the obviously intended meaning is symbolic. You may not agree, but taking Ezekiel’s Temple as a literal building seems like an example of wooden literalism to me.

G. N. Barkman

My point is that every serious student of Scripture would agree with your own assertion here:

If we begin with a hermeneutic that demands literal interpretation, even in the face of Biblical evidence to the contrary, we, like Christ’s disciples, will be unable to grasp the meaning intended by God. We err when we lock our interpretation into place on the basis of hermeneutics before we fully analyze all the Biblical evidence.

Nobody in this thread (I believe) would disagree with this. Everybody understands context and authorial intent. Those are not even an issue. Your entire point with the leaven example seems to be rather missing the point, because nobody is arguing that way. I shall be interested to see what the next installments bring.

Tyler is a pastor in Olympia, WA and works in State government.

[G. N. Barkman]

Tyler,

Wooden Literalism, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. As, “One man’s trash is another’s treasure,” so one man’s wooden literalism is another’s plain meaning of Scripture. My problem is with those who reserve the right to deviate from literalism when they find it necessary, but accuse others of unfaithfulness when they don’t like their interpretations. Ezekiel’s Temple is a good example. Try to build it as described, or better yet, explain how the river described can be a literal river. To many of us, the obviously intended meaning is symbolic. You may not agree, but taking Ezekiel’s Temple as a literal building seems like an example of wooden literalism to me.

Hey, why cannot underground rivers feed the river so that from a small start from under the threshold it grows? I just threw that out there after 30 sec. of thinking about it. Am I right? Maybe, maybe not. Pure speculation, but similar to what other rivers form from both surface and underground flow. So there is your explanation (smilie)

I was following you up to this post, but to assign a text metaphorical because of lack of understanding it seems arbitrary.

"Our faith itself... is not our saviour. We have but one Saviour; and that one Saviour is Jesus Christ our Lord. B.B. Warfield

http://beliefspeak2.net

Alex, this goes back to the author’s intent. The question is not, “Can we find some possible way to understand this literally?” Rather, do the “clues” in the statement point us in a figurative direction. I take the leaven example again. Is it possible to figure out a way to make Christ’s statement mean literal leaven? Yes. But other clues should lead us in a different direction. Christ seems to chide his disciples for failing to pick up on those clues. In the leaven case, we know the true intended meaning because its spelled out. In other cases, we are left to pick up the clues without clear statements to support them. This is frustrating and unsatisfactory to some. But I find that this is more in line with the manner Christ and NT authors handled OT prophecy. Are we going to “lock in” our OT interpretation, and find creative ways to ignore what the NT indicates, or let the NT shape our way of looking at the OT.


G. N. Barkman

To put things in the language I learned back in Junior High English class, what G.N. is saying is “are there clues here that the phrase is a metaphor?”. With the “leaven of the Pharisees” comment, we would have to assume either (1) the Pharisees were known for making some pretty nasty bread or (2) Jesus is using a metaphor. Notice that in the context of Matthew 16, Mark 8, and Luke 12, the Disciples initially assume it has something to do with bread and then they clue in that it’s a metaphor. Notice also that in Matthew 16:12 and Luke 12:1, Christ spells it out clearly for us—so this example is not really the best example of a place where the literalist will have a problem.

One place I would point to is in Acts, where Paul claims not to recognize the High Priest—given that Paul had spent a dozen years in rabbinic schools and would have been completely familiar with the garments, position, and such of the same, I have to wonder if what’s really going on is that he was using plausible deniability to point out that the “High Priest” was actually a non-Cohen appointed by the Romans, or an apostate priest—and using that plausible deniability to avoid being killed for doing that.

Look forward to the next installment; as I’ve noted before, I am not convinced that the almost “blanket” presumption of metaphorical value of the prophets can be sustained—there are simply too many places where the prophecies were literally fulfilled to support that.

Aspiring to be a stick in the mud.

[Rolland McCune]

… Yet the issue has gotten thrown off track by interjecting old, straw man, discredited notions over Jesus the “door” or the “leaven” of the Pharisees. This is so 1940s. Let O.T. Allis rest in peace. His day came and went in dispensational analytical thinking long ago. No point in opening that carpet sweeper bag now. …

Perhaps so, but the same fallacious argument keeps rearing its head from time to time. Dr. Snoeberger’s lead paragraph, for example. I believe the main thrust of his series is worthy in its own right without it.

Let me add, Dr. Snoeberger’s post begins with the phrase, “For decades it was assumed, …” Therefore, I would suggest that a quotation from O. T. Allis from the 1940s is, based upon a plain reading of Dr. Snoeberger, so apropos.

JSB