McKnight on Parables

Parables are more than cute, homespun illustrations. Jesus' parables are revelatory kingdom dreams. They summon us into the world where God's kingdom takes root and grows and spreads. They summon us to a better world, to the kingdom of God, and they summon us to a kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. The parables of Jesus, in fact, are revolutionary scripts that enter into our heart of hearts, rattle us anew, and call us to complete surrender. One can say this yet another way: The parables of Jesus are opportunities for God's grace to enter into our lives to transform us.

This parabolic dream kingdom begins, Jesus says, with the imagination. First you listen to his stories and enter into them imaginatively, the way you enter into your favorite novel's characters. Then, because you've entered Jesus' kingdom plot, you've discerned kingdom life in a deeper manner. Then you give your One.Life to the Kingdom.Life.

The parables of Jesus are his sleight-of-hand trick. You begin thinking about very ordinary things, like fields and farmers and workers and women baking and men picking wheat and wounded people, and suddenly you find yourself transported into a brand new world and a brand new way of thinking. This vision of Jesus will take a conversion of our imagination; or, better yet, the parables convert our imaginations from self-centeredness to love.

A Christian, then, is one who follows Jesus, devotes his or her One.Life to the kingdom vision, and uses her or his imagination to see what God can do in this world. This imagination is nothing other than kingdom imagination shaped by Jesus' parables.

Scot McKnight, One.Life: Jesus Calls We Follow (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010), 44.

Metaphor vs. Cliche

So, I recently had a five hour layover in Dallas. For some reason I started thinking about how much I can't stand it when Christians (including myself) speaking in cliches. I guess long layovers in airports are good for random thoughts. Long layovers in airports are also good for writing those random thoughts down. These thoughts might be good. They might be bad. Sitting in a coffee shop in an airport, they seemed brilliant - but probably the same type of brilliance that every college student enjoys while writing a research paper at three in the morning only to wake up the next day and realize that there's a reason why papers shouldn't be written at three in the morning. Regardless, I thought I'd share. (I've not edited for typos or anything, so...be nice.)

Easy clichés are utterly useless as a strategy for effectively communicating anything. Standing opposite of clichés are metaphors. Metaphors are expansive in their meaning. A good metaphor put into effective use can open up an exciting realm of possible meanings. Simply say that the Lord is a good Shepherd and our imaginations run wild with the implications. God is resolutely concerned for me and us – his sheep, his flock. And he puts that concern to work in manifold ways limited only by our imagination and time. This is the beauty of metaphor – to say so much with such an economy of words. Metaphor is absolutely necessary for communication. That is, if a person desires to communicate anything of substance, of meaning, of mystery. Those unhappy souls who insist on strict literalism or who remain blindly skeptical of anything that lies beyond pure scientific “fact” have doomed themselves to a life free from the painful joys of love, the mysterious attraction that exists between men and great bodies of water, or even the happy nostalgia that accompanies a night at the ballpark. Abandon metaphor and God won’t be far behind. Metaphors acknowledge our limitations, our humanness – that there are certain things that go beyond our ability to neatly or literally try to explain them. Certainly this must be true about a sovereign God. To say that we can only approach God through the veil of metaphor is not to say that God somehow doesn’t exist in reality – as if empiricism can tell us more than a fraction about reality. It is also not to say that God has not acted historically in a meaningful way, specifically through his Son. No, it is an acknowledgment that our understanding of God must always be imaginative. We cannot domesticate God with lazy literalism or stale systems of theology. Even the historical actions of God are understood through pictures and metaphors. You need to look no further than the cup of the Eucharist for proof. This is certainly why music and lyrics have always been an important part of religious expression – especially in the Judeo-Christian heritage – a heritage that insists on both the otherness and the nearness of God.


But clichés. If metaphors are expansive in meaning, clichés constrict meaning. Clichés actually manage to say less than their literal meaning. Both clichés and metaphor are succinct, but their effect is completely different. Metaphors advance conversation. Metaphors can successfully remain relevant and meaningful across the centuries and across the spectrum of cultures. Think about the number of cultures around the world from mountain villages in northern Europe to rice plantations in the Philippines who have had their imaginations captured by the notion that their sins may be made white as snow. Clichés are just as succinct, but rather than inspiring imaginative conversation they actually suffocate conversation. Rather than being disclosing truth, clichés actually obscure it.

Maybe an illustration will help. Clichés are the trade language of professional athletes and coaches everywhere. I often wonder if somewhere in the class schedule of the average division one athlete there is a course labeled: LA 110 – Sport Speak: A course offered specifically for the current or aspiring athlete. This course will instruct students in all of the latest techniques and approaches to speaking the language of sport. Upon the completion of this course, the student will be equipped to speak while saying absolutely nothing of substance. Final exams will consist in a press conference in front of real, professional journalists. If you are a sports fan, you have at some point been frustrated by the uselessness of the sports cliché. A critical game has just concluded. Your appetite for the game isn’t satisfied by the game alone. You want to know more. You want a behind-the-scenes explanation of exactly what went right or (what is most often the case for my teams) wrong. A reporter in the front row asks what sounds to you like a very good question – a question that you might have asked. “What exactly happened at the end of the third quarter that allowed you to start working your way back from that 10-point deficit? Was it a change in the defense or was it something that you saw the other team doing?” This is the point where all the hours in Sports Speak training pay off – and if it is a professional athlete they are almost admirably fluent in the language. (Perhaps the only profession more accomplished in the art of the cliché is the professional politician.) The original question is lost in an avalanche of sports cliché. All Sports Speak will hit on one or usually a combination of these themes: 1) a reference to something that their coach said to them which is supposed to sound inspiring but to those of us at home sounds incredibly obvious, 2) some sort of reference to the need for perseverance using vaguely militaristic terms like fighting or battling, 3) a mention of the importance of teamwork, 4) a compliment to the other team for their effort using some of the same terms from number 2 above – a compliment that usually manages to sound both empty and patronizing at the same time, 5) finally, we may be treated to the observation that this was in fact just one game in the midst of a season full of games that can only be played one at a time. Usually, this is preceded by the reminder that such a wise observation can only be properly made “at the end of the day.”

Maybe it is because the athlete wants to protect his team’s secrets. Maybe it is because he doesn’t want to sound ungracious in victory or defeat. Or maybe (more likely) he’s just being lazy and doesn’t feel like offering a thoughtful response. Regardless of the reason, the desired effect is almost always achieved unless the reporters that day happen to be unusually aggressive or ornery. The cliché has effectively killed the conversation. The cliché leaves no room for further imagination or explanation. Everything has been said. And nothing has been said. A cliché is a linguistic mirage. It appears at first to offer something of substance and meaning, but upon closer examination it is empty and frustrating. And often misleading.

Unfortunately too many of us have turned into that professional athlete/politician who is only capable or desirous to speak in clichéd sound bites when it comes to God. Rather than capturing the imagination or inspiring conversation we stifle both with cheap religious sounding clichés.

Christian cliché runs the spectrum from 1) the ridiculous and cheesy – pretty much every Christian t-shirt or church sign you’ve ever seen. Seriously, how does it help anyone to point out that there is “no stop, drop, or roll in Hell.” Has this ever worked as an evangelistic strategy? 2) the question-begging – “The Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it.” “Whenever God shuts a door, He opens a window.” Or my personal favorite – “It’s not a religion. It’s a relationship.” If you’ve been around Christians for very long at all you have heard one or all of these types of statements. They are intended to be declarative, “clinching” statements, but they are actually very misleading in their supposed simplicity. 3) the out-of-context” – Who hasn’t heard a Christian turn verses like Philippians 4:13 or Matthew 18:20 or Proverbs 22:6 into cheap clichés by taking them out of context and using them for his own immediate needs?

When I speak as a Christian, I will have to learn to speak in the language of metaphor if I am going to speak rightly of God (or of Jesus, the Holy Spirit, eschatology, salvation, etc.) – admittedly not an easy language to learn, and, like any language, is spoken better by some than others. Some metaphors are silly. Some are misleading or easily misunderstood. Many are not even biblical in their allusion and reflect more our contemporary desires for God than the biblical testimony of God. Nevertheless, we must learn to employ metaphor and well if we desire to speak of God (or to God for that matter).

Augustine and obscure passages

“In matters that are so obscure and far beyond our vision, we find in Holy Scripture passages which can be interpreted in very different ways without prejudice to the faith we have received. In such cases, we should not rush in headlong and so firmly take our stand on one side that, if further progress in the search for truth justly undermines this position, we too fall with it.”

from The Literal Meaning of Genesis
 
Alister McGrath (The Passionate Intellect) points out that by "literal" Augustine really meant "literary." Interpretations should be faithful to the literary intent of a passage. (For instance, a passage intended to be taken figuratively should be taken figuratively.)  Augustine applied this principle first of all to the interpretation of Genesis 1-2 leaving open the possibility of various potential intepretations of the text other than a literal six day creation. (Notice that Augustine also says that these different interpretations are not necessarily outside of what we might call orthodoxy.) Augustine's words however have a much broader application than just the beginning chapters of Genesis. It is helpful to always remember that our interpretations of a great number of difficult passages should be held onto lightly.

Biblical Inerrancy and the Licona Controversy, Christian News

Christianity Today just wrote up a brief article concerning the controversy swirling around Michael Licona and his interpretation of Matthew 27:51-54 in his 700 page volume defending the historical, physical resurrection of Jesus, The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach. You can read more about the controversy - as well as a critique of Licona's interpretation here: Biblical Inerrancy and the Licona Controversy, Christian News. Personally, it's sad that what is widely acknowledged (even by Licona's critics) to be a very capable, thorough, and orthodox work is being called into question simply because he offers a symbolic/apocalyptic interpretation of four verses from Matthew which have caused scholars to scratch their heads for years.

The issue, of course, is bigger than this particular text. The issue is has really become about Licona's committment to the innerancy of scripture and what it means to believe that scripture is "without error." Can a person hold to the inerrancy of scripture without adopting a rigid literalism regarding certain texts? The above article quotes the Chicago statement on inerrancy:

Article XVIII of the Chicago Statement makes this point with precision: “We
affirm that the text of the Scripture is to be interpreted by
grammatico-historical exegesis, taking account of its literary forms and
devices, and that Scripture is to interpret Scripture. We deny the legitimacy of
any treatment of the text or quest for sources lying behind it that leads to
relativizing, dehistoricizing, or discounting its teaching, or rejecting its
claims to authorship.” Furthermore, the Chicago Statement requires that “history
must be treated as history.”

But this quote highlights a problem faced regularly in our exegesis of an inerrant text. A committment to grammatico-historical exegesis requires that we do in fact take into account the literary forms and devices of scripture - including figurative or symbolic language. Most everyone would agree that Jehovah's Witnesses are not being faithful to the intent of scripture to take the number 144,000 literally in the book of Revelation. But it's pretty noncontroversial (in most circles) to identify the language of Revelation as largely symbolic. But what about other genres like the gospels?  Licona isn't questioning whether the text of Matthew 27 is true. He's questioning whether or not a literalistic interpretation is faithful to the text's intent. It's not as simple as saying, "I believe in inerrancy, so therefore, I believe the text to be literally true." The word "literally" has been smuggled into the definition and has had the effect of dramatically changing the definition. The bumper sticker cliche "The Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it." may sound good to some. But it is not only naive, it also (ironically) undermines the authority of the text.  A committment to inerrancy actually calls us to study and discuss the literary meaning of a text not just the literal meaning of a text.  A committment to inerrancy calls us to robust and humble hermeneutics where Christians may actually disagree with how to take certain texts while agreeing theologically with each other about what scripture is. We simply disagree with the best way to understand it.

Maybe Licona's right and maybe he's wrong on this text.  But what this controversy reveals is the danger of a simplistic and overly literalistic understanding of inerrancy.  It is frightening that some are calling for him to be kicked out of the ETS simply because he doesn't walk lock-step (on this ONE text) with this rigid definition of inerrancy. My goodness. Is this all that it takes for us to disfellowship each other? Have mercy. (It's worth noting, by the way, that Licona is now rather agnostic about the text in question. He says that it may be literal or figurative. But apparently that's not good enough for some of his inquisitors.) I am committed to inerrancy, but it's no wonder that so many young theologians and students are so cynical about this whole issue in light of these types of witch hunts.

Hans Boersma on Metaphor

Metaphors are a divinely given means to avoid idolatrous claims of knowledge. Metaphors are nonliteral descriptions of reality.  They are an acknowledge that we need to access the world around us in an indirect fashion, and that the idea of direct and complete access is an arrogant illusion that violates the multifaceted integrity of the created world.

in Scot McKnight, A Community Called Atonement (Nashville: Abingdon, 2007), 39.

McKnight on Metaphor

Metaphor is more than ornamental decoration on a more fundamental propositional reality, more than a homey story in a sermon or a cleaver picture to illustrate a point.  Metaphors need not be stripped of their literary beauty to discover under them their propositional reality. Au contraire: metaphor is not a linguistic stage rehearsal but the performance itself. Anthony Thiselton claims in New Horizons in Hermeneutics: "Metaphor produces new possibilities of imagination and vision; narrative creates new configurations which structure individual or corporate experience."  Again, Thiselton: "If metaphor, therefore, present possibility rather than actuality it is arguable that metaphoric discourse can open up new understanding more readily than purely descriptive or scientific statement." The effect of seeing metaphor as possibility is that metaphors are not in need of decoding or unpacking but of indwelling. Said another way, by receiving the metaphor into the soul, the soul learns the reality. THus, we not only indwell the metaphor, the metaphor indwells us. The charitable, loving approach to a metaphor is to let it have its way with us, and only by surrendering to it does it yield its truth.

Scot McKnight, A Community Called Atonement (Nashville: Abingdon, 2007), 37.

Imagination and Hermeneutics

Hope is an imaginative enterprise. Especially is this the case when hope’s great gift is its power to negate the negatives of present experience. Only the capacity of the human imagination to transcend the given enables us to escape the constraints of the present and to suppose that things might be otherwise. This kind of imaginative or visionary hope is intimately related to transcendence. It takes us beyond the mere extrapolation of the future from the present and the calculation of the future on the basis of past and present. It envisages the genuinely new. Of course, this raises the specter of mere fantasy and the questions of the ground of hope and the sources of hopeful imagining. The more we envisage the category of the eschatologically new—a future reality that breaks the bounds of the immanent capacities of nature and history—the more important it is to distinguish imagination from fantasy. Christian hopeful imagining is grounded in the promise of God and resourced by the images of the scriptural revelation. As Moltmann’s theology of hope has always insisted, it is inspired and directed by the event of eschatological promise: the resurrection of the crucified Jesus. It is characterized also by its relevance to the way Christian life now is lived in the direction of the coming of God’s kingdom and its impact on present reality. In these ways, eschatological imagination is Christologically and scripturally disciplined imagination, not free-floating speculation.


Consequently, human imagination does not function in Christian eschatology as an alternative to God’s revelation. Rather, the revelatory promise of God in Christ and scripture appeals to the human imagination; seizes, transforms, and expands the imagination; makes the imagination the locus and vehicle of its reception. It is the imagination transfigured by God’s promise that is able to envisage in hope the promised transfiguration of reality. It is this Christian imagination that can envision the coming kingdom sufficiently for it to empower Christian living without reducing the kingdom to a reality that can be all too easily perfected already.

It is vital to insist that, when statements of eschatological expectation are said to be imaginative, this does not mean that they are not truth bearing, as an overly rationalistic view of human understanding might suggest. Christian hope is imaginative but not imaginary. In reckoning with the imaginative character of eschatological images and stories, we recognize that they refer to a reality that, because it lies beyond present experience, cannot be literally described. Christian eschatology must speak of a new creation that is both transcendently new and yet in continuity with this creation, since it is the renewal of this world. Of something that were wholly discontinuous with present reality we could hardly speak at all, but of the transcendent future of this world, we can speak in images that point beyond the limits of their literal reference.



Richard Bauckham, “Conclusion: Emerging Issues in Eschatology in the Twenty-First Century,” Oxford Handbook of Eschatology, 681-682.

Metaphors are the Spice of Life

Literalists, maybe especially religious literalists, have a difficult time with metaphors. A metaphor is a word that makes an organic connection from what you can see to what you can't see. In any conversation involving God, whom we can't see, metaphors are invaluable for keeping language vivid and immediate. Without metaphors we are left with colorless abstractions and vague generalities.

Eugene Peterson, Practice Resurrection, Loc. 55-58 (Kindle Edition)

Symbolism and Revelation

Revelation is more like a map: and a map, once we learn the symbols it uses, is actually of more use to us than an aerial photograph would be.

N.T. Wright, Small Faith--Great God, Loc. 60-61 (Kindle Edition)

Augustine and figurative meaning

Any harsh and even cruel word or deed attributed to God or his saints that is found in the holy scriptures applies to the destruction of the realm of lust [i.e. it is to be taken only figuratively].

Augustine, On Christian Doctrine, 3.39