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.
Showing posts with label imagination. Show all posts
Showing posts with label imagination. Show all posts
Friday, January 4, 2013
Friday, August 26, 2011
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.
Scot McKnight, A Community Called Atonement (Nashville: Abingdon, 2007), 37.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
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.
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.
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