Hermeneutic: n. 1. The study of the methodological principles of interpretation (as of the Bible) 2. A method or principle of interpretation.
Today there are more various hermeneutical methods floating about than one can count. A great many of them come from taking an outside theory, philosophy or method and applying it to biblical interpretation and "seeing what happens."
I have settled into my own method, over the years, and I have not found it "out there" put forth as a method, so, I thought I'd share it.
The Hermeneutic of Least Resistance
What I mean is this, I try to find the interpretation of any particular passage that meets the following criteria:
1. The most literal, face-value reading of the text possible, acknowledging that the scripture does employ various styles within.
2. The interpretation that is most consistent with other teaching in the scriptures on whatever the topic is.
3. The interpretation that requires the least amount of explanation, disclaimer and linguistic and theological gymnastics.
That's it. You could sum it up as the "no buts" hermeneutic I suppose. That's my goal, not reading a passage and saying, "I know it seems to say such and so, but...."
I think it puts the authority in the right place, it allows the scripture to interpret my philosophy and world view, rather than the other way around, as much as possible.
04 March 2011
25 February 2011
All People
And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people." Luke 2:10
One of the ways to test the authenticity of our message, the truth of our Gospel, is to stop and think if it applies to "all the people." Can I preach my Sunday sermon to persecuted believers in other countries? Would it "fit" if my congregation was poorer, or more urban, or less urban?
I'm not talking about illustrations and the peripheral things. Obviously, those may need tweaked. But, would the core of my message, the heart of what I am proclaiming--the theology and application--would that apply to any Christian, anywhere?
I am coming increasingly to the conviction that if the answer is "no," that I am not really proclaiming the Gospel. I may be proclaiming a church, a culture or my own hopes and dreams, but if it is not "for all the people" then it is not what the angels told the shepherds they were receiving in Christ.
And If that is not my message, why am I talking at all?
One of the ways to test the authenticity of our message, the truth of our Gospel, is to stop and think if it applies to "all the people." Can I preach my Sunday sermon to persecuted believers in other countries? Would it "fit" if my congregation was poorer, or more urban, or less urban?
I'm not talking about illustrations and the peripheral things. Obviously, those may need tweaked. But, would the core of my message, the heart of what I am proclaiming--the theology and application--would that apply to any Christian, anywhere?
I am coming increasingly to the conviction that if the answer is "no," that I am not really proclaiming the Gospel. I may be proclaiming a church, a culture or my own hopes and dreams, but if it is not "for all the people" then it is not what the angels told the shepherds they were receiving in Christ.
And If that is not my message, why am I talking at all?
22 February 2011
Of Power Tools and Sanctification
Well, I'm 40 now. But this isn't a post about my aging. It's about a present. My wife bought me a router for my birthday. Not the computer type, the send sawdust flying in the garage type.
I'm pretty happy about this. I like building things, and this will allow me to build more and different things.
What does this have to do with sanctification?
Well, my dad, I am sure like many of your dads, passed along some sage wisdom as I was growing up and we would make birdhouses or pine wood derby cars together. One of those bits was, "Let the tool do the work." Most of us who have spent much time with a tool in our hands understand that bit of wisdom.
Funny thing about tools. I have several in my garage already, and I feel pretty safe in assuming this router is no different. I can set them in that garage, have wood, and even plans sitting on my workbench, and nothing will happen. I can't completely let the tools do the work. I have to put some effort into the process.
God has given us everything we need in Jesus. We are justified by his sacrifice in our place on the cross. He has given us a workshop, if you will. He has given us gifts in his word and his Holy Spirit. The tools. But unless we put our hand to them and use what he has given us, not much will be produced.
We can go out in our garage and look at the wonderful tools he has given us, and proclaim that they are, "All of the Lord." And we would be right. But we would also not be "Working out our salvation...."
Can I be saved without "doing something?" A lot of people would argue on both sides of that one. Can I have a workshop without ever building anything? Obviously. The question for both of those is, "What's the point?"
So, in the next day or two, off I will go to Lowes. I will buy some router bits and some wood, and I will put this router to use. Just like I open God's word and pray. Both produce more in my life, when I set my hand to them, to use what I have been blessed with.
I'm pretty happy about this. I like building things, and this will allow me to build more and different things.
What does this have to do with sanctification?
Well, my dad, I am sure like many of your dads, passed along some sage wisdom as I was growing up and we would make birdhouses or pine wood derby cars together. One of those bits was, "Let the tool do the work." Most of us who have spent much time with a tool in our hands understand that bit of wisdom.
Funny thing about tools. I have several in my garage already, and I feel pretty safe in assuming this router is no different. I can set them in that garage, have wood, and even plans sitting on my workbench, and nothing will happen. I can't completely let the tools do the work. I have to put some effort into the process.
God has given us everything we need in Jesus. We are justified by his sacrifice in our place on the cross. He has given us a workshop, if you will. He has given us gifts in his word and his Holy Spirit. The tools. But unless we put our hand to them and use what he has given us, not much will be produced.
We can go out in our garage and look at the wonderful tools he has given us, and proclaim that they are, "All of the Lord." And we would be right. But we would also not be "Working out our salvation...."
Can I be saved without "doing something?" A lot of people would argue on both sides of that one. Can I have a workshop without ever building anything? Obviously. The question for both of those is, "What's the point?"
So, in the next day or two, off I will go to Lowes. I will buy some router bits and some wood, and I will put this router to use. Just like I open God's word and pray. Both produce more in my life, when I set my hand to them, to use what I have been blessed with.
16 February 2011
Discipleship
In this excellent article for the Oxford Handbook of Evangelical Theology, Dallas Willard lays out a brief history of discipleship (commonly called spiritual formation in recent years) and how we have arrived, as evangelicals, in our current vacuum regarding this biblical injunction.
Discipleship
Discipleship
14 February 2011
Authority
Authority is not a really popular concept, at least not in the United States, or in the churches that reside there. We'll talk and read about leadership until the cows come home, but authority is rarely discussed.
I find myself often distressed by the lack of "higher authority" in most churches. what do I mean? I mean there seems to be nothing that can be appealed to as the standard. Sure, we all look to Scripture. But the way we interpret it varies greatly and depending on who is doing the interpreting. Even heretics appeal to scripture.
I think a lot of this authority-aversion comes from 2 sources. First, it is a carry-over from the Protestant Reformation. Papal authority was challenged on many fronts and declared invalid by most of the historical reforms. The Radical Reformation took this a step further and clung to the idea of sola scriptura in a manner that excluded all else in most cases. With these streams, we tend to knee-jerk against anything that would claim authority over our belief and practice.
Secondly, and perhaps more significantly, is the influence of modern thought, primarily the existentialists thought that appeared in the 19th century. This idea that I am the center of my universe (to over-simplify the movement to be sure) is at the core of much of American, and Western thought.
We do not submit to authority willingly. We pick and choose and want the ability to quit whenever we want. This very idea gives a lot of business to chaplains in basic training units, believe me. ("You signed a contract and swore and oath--you can't quit.")
In the church this causes issues as well. Who is the authority? Pastor? Deacons? Elders? Congregation? Mr. Jones? Bishop? It varied from denomination to denomination in what the "official" church government is. Variety is okay, but even within those models, the "real" authority is often different than the "attributed" authority.
On matters of belief and doctrine, what is the authority? Scripture, right, I got it. Who's view of it? If we say we are an XYZ Church, what does that mean? (I would even question some groups using the word church at all...) What do we point to and say, "Here we stand"?
Is it negotiable? How much variance do we allow? I know Jesus spoke against the "polity police" of the Pharisees. I cannot help but think that in fear of that, we have allowed the pendulum to swing too far the other way in many circles. Orthodoxy and orthopraxis are both important to the church. All we have to do is read the Pentateuch to realize God is concerned with the way we believe and the way we worship.
We do not have as clear-cut guidelines in the New Testament. Obviously.
But, I think there is something to be said for saying "We believe this is the best way to do it, we believe this statement of faith and doctrine." And sticking to it. How else can we know what we are joining and aligning ourselves with? I don't know that we have to nail every last possible item down. But having our "core doctrine" as a non-negotiable certainly seems like a good place to start.
Without a firm authority to appeal to, we are likely to be blown by the winds of change and culture, instead of being the rock in the midst of these otherwise shifting sands.
I find myself often distressed by the lack of "higher authority" in most churches. what do I mean? I mean there seems to be nothing that can be appealed to as the standard. Sure, we all look to Scripture. But the way we interpret it varies greatly and depending on who is doing the interpreting. Even heretics appeal to scripture.
I think a lot of this authority-aversion comes from 2 sources. First, it is a carry-over from the Protestant Reformation. Papal authority was challenged on many fronts and declared invalid by most of the historical reforms. The Radical Reformation took this a step further and clung to the idea of sola scriptura in a manner that excluded all else in most cases. With these streams, we tend to knee-jerk against anything that would claim authority over our belief and practice.
Secondly, and perhaps more significantly, is the influence of modern thought, primarily the existentialists thought that appeared in the 19th century. This idea that I am the center of my universe (to over-simplify the movement to be sure) is at the core of much of American, and Western thought.
We do not submit to authority willingly. We pick and choose and want the ability to quit whenever we want. This very idea gives a lot of business to chaplains in basic training units, believe me. ("You signed a contract and swore and oath--you can't quit.")
In the church this causes issues as well. Who is the authority? Pastor? Deacons? Elders? Congregation? Mr. Jones? Bishop? It varied from denomination to denomination in what the "official" church government is. Variety is okay, but even within those models, the "real" authority is often different than the "attributed" authority.
On matters of belief and doctrine, what is the authority? Scripture, right, I got it. Who's view of it? If we say we are an XYZ Church, what does that mean? (I would even question some groups using the word church at all...) What do we point to and say, "Here we stand"?
Is it negotiable? How much variance do we allow? I know Jesus spoke against the "polity police" of the Pharisees. I cannot help but think that in fear of that, we have allowed the pendulum to swing too far the other way in many circles. Orthodoxy and orthopraxis are both important to the church. All we have to do is read the Pentateuch to realize God is concerned with the way we believe and the way we worship.
We do not have as clear-cut guidelines in the New Testament. Obviously.
But, I think there is something to be said for saying "We believe this is the best way to do it, we believe this statement of faith and doctrine." And sticking to it. How else can we know what we are joining and aligning ourselves with? I don't know that we have to nail every last possible item down. But having our "core doctrine" as a non-negotiable certainly seems like a good place to start.
Without a firm authority to appeal to, we are likely to be blown by the winds of change and culture, instead of being the rock in the midst of these otherwise shifting sands.
30 January 2011
Who is it about?
I'm not big on "theology via YouTube" generally speaking. It tends to be right down there with "theology via bumpersticker." That not withstanding, this is a pretty good piece.
20 January 2011
What is the Purpose of Prayer?
[Note: I've been trying to make this a nice, neat post on the subject, but the more I work on it, the more it seems to grow like a patch of tangle-foot. So I'm just going to throw it out there as is.]
Why pray?
No, really. Have you given much thought to the reason for this practice? Why do we pray? To tell God what our concerns and joys are? We certainly seem to do that in prayer, but he already knows. (The Lord knows the thoughts of man Psalm 94:11a)
If God already knows, what is with this exercise in repeating it? Let me ask another question, is the purpose of prayer to make God aware of what is on our mind, or is it to shape our mind toward God's?
Prayer is a spiritual discipline. It is one of the 2 "primary" ones, along with reading of the scriptures. We practice spiritual disciplines rightly not to earn anything from God, because we can't. (Pelagius is still a heretic, despite his ideas popularity.) So why do we engage in spiritual disciplines?
To improve ourselves. To conform ourselves to Christ-likeness. Spiritual disciplines are also called "spiritual exercises" and I think that title is illustrative. I don't do push-ups because I think I will ever need to really do a push-up in any really life situation. I do push-ups because I understand it is a good and time tested way to develop my triceps and pectoral muscles so when I do need to use them for other tasks, they are fit and ready.
How does this apply to prayer? Well, if we hold that prayer is about shaping me and not shaping God, then it is a time to ingrain in ourselves what He wants for us and from us. I pray not because I have anything of value to say to the King of the Universe, but because, as his subject, it behooves me to listen to him.
Once we understand this dynamic of prayer, then our "shopping list" prayers suddenly become embarrassingly trite. Granted, we are commanded to pray for certain people. (1 Timothy 2:1-2) I think it is important that we obey Scripture's command on this. The list presented does not include our cousin, our neighbor's dog or any of the other usual targets of our petitions, however. Rulers and those in authority.
Pray is not conforming God to my will, but allowing God to conform me to his will, and, if it be his will, to allow myself to be used as an instrument of that will.
Lex orandi, lex credendi--Latin for "the law of prayer is the law of belief." What this means, essentially, is as we pray, so we believe, so we pray.
If we only pray about the common cold and the weather, it would seem to reveal that we think God is some sort of cosmic personal assistant. I don't think any of us would ever state that blatantly, but to listen to prayers, sometimes we hear that very thing.
To start with belief--what we profess--scripture, the creeds, well-written prayers that address the majesty and sovereignty of God, this shapes us in a more deliberate way. A way that causes our praying to conform to our belief.
An interesting exercise might be to write out your prayers for a week, or a month. (Or even record them.) Then examine them--is the whole counsel of scripture being reflected? Is their confession? Repentance? Prayer for those in authority? For the church? For the lost? Do you address the Trinity? Our future hope? Our history as the people of God? Christ's birth, life, death, resurrection and ascension?
You may not hit everything every day, certainly not in great detail. But are you getting a balanced diet? If lex orandi, lex credendi is true, and I think it is, then the implication would be in order to have orthodox belief, we must have orthodox prayers.
God used a year in Iraq to bring me to this place. It was no secret what my concerns were--I didn't want to catch a rocket on my way to the latrine in the morning. But that seemed a pretty shallow prayer life, as heart-felt as it was. I began writing out a daily prayer. I included Saint Patrick's Breastplate as the core of it.
I modified and shaped it over the remainder of my deployment. I found as I prayed the same thing day after day, the belief underpinning certain sections of it became clear, and I found I wasn't comfortable with all that at first sounded fine. I also began to deeply appreciate and learn from other sections.
This experience led me into the Book of Common Prayer, which I now use daily. It is a time-tested method of prayer, predating Thomas Cranmer's work in the 16th century, for he edited, translated and reformed the liturgy of the hours that had been used by the religious for over a thousand years before him, and still used by large sections of the church.
Why pray?
No, really. Have you given much thought to the reason for this practice? Why do we pray? To tell God what our concerns and joys are? We certainly seem to do that in prayer, but he already knows. (The Lord knows the thoughts of man Psalm 94:11a)
If God already knows, what is with this exercise in repeating it? Let me ask another question, is the purpose of prayer to make God aware of what is on our mind, or is it to shape our mind toward God's?
Prayer is a spiritual discipline. It is one of the 2 "primary" ones, along with reading of the scriptures. We practice spiritual disciplines rightly not to earn anything from God, because we can't. (Pelagius is still a heretic, despite his ideas popularity.) So why do we engage in spiritual disciplines?
To improve ourselves. To conform ourselves to Christ-likeness. Spiritual disciplines are also called "spiritual exercises" and I think that title is illustrative. I don't do push-ups because I think I will ever need to really do a push-up in any really life situation. I do push-ups because I understand it is a good and time tested way to develop my triceps and pectoral muscles so when I do need to use them for other tasks, they are fit and ready.
How does this apply to prayer? Well, if we hold that prayer is about shaping me and not shaping God, then it is a time to ingrain in ourselves what He wants for us and from us. I pray not because I have anything of value to say to the King of the Universe, but because, as his subject, it behooves me to listen to him.
Once we understand this dynamic of prayer, then our "shopping list" prayers suddenly become embarrassingly trite. Granted, we are commanded to pray for certain people. (1 Timothy 2:1-2) I think it is important that we obey Scripture's command on this. The list presented does not include our cousin, our neighbor's dog or any of the other usual targets of our petitions, however. Rulers and those in authority.
Pray is not conforming God to my will, but allowing God to conform me to his will, and, if it be his will, to allow myself to be used as an instrument of that will.
Lex orandi, lex credendi--Latin for "the law of prayer is the law of belief." What this means, essentially, is as we pray, so we believe, so we pray.
If we only pray about the common cold and the weather, it would seem to reveal that we think God is some sort of cosmic personal assistant. I don't think any of us would ever state that blatantly, but to listen to prayers, sometimes we hear that very thing.
To start with belief--what we profess--scripture, the creeds, well-written prayers that address the majesty and sovereignty of God, this shapes us in a more deliberate way. A way that causes our praying to conform to our belief.
An interesting exercise might be to write out your prayers for a week, or a month. (Or even record them.) Then examine them--is the whole counsel of scripture being reflected? Is their confession? Repentance? Prayer for those in authority? For the church? For the lost? Do you address the Trinity? Our future hope? Our history as the people of God? Christ's birth, life, death, resurrection and ascension?
You may not hit everything every day, certainly not in great detail. But are you getting a balanced diet? If lex orandi, lex credendi is true, and I think it is, then the implication would be in order to have orthodox belief, we must have orthodox prayers.
God used a year in Iraq to bring me to this place. It was no secret what my concerns were--I didn't want to catch a rocket on my way to the latrine in the morning. But that seemed a pretty shallow prayer life, as heart-felt as it was. I began writing out a daily prayer. I included Saint Patrick's Breastplate as the core of it.
I modified and shaped it over the remainder of my deployment. I found as I prayed the same thing day after day, the belief underpinning certain sections of it became clear, and I found I wasn't comfortable with all that at first sounded fine. I also began to deeply appreciate and learn from other sections.
This experience led me into the Book of Common Prayer, which I now use daily. It is a time-tested method of prayer, predating Thomas Cranmer's work in the 16th century, for he edited, translated and reformed the liturgy of the hours that had been used by the religious for over a thousand years before him, and still used by large sections of the church.
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