how much context is necessary?

June 21, 2008

More and more preaching and teaching seems to be focusing scriptural interpretation firstly on the context in which passages were written, and then addressing the text from within that setting. This certainly was a feature of all teaching since the beginning of the faith, but there seems to be a point where a more  ‘contextualized’ analysis points a passage in an entirely new direction.

I’m currently reading Walter Wink’s The Powers That Be, and he does the same with several of Jesus’ statements about not resisting an enemy, including:

“You have heard that it was said, An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.”  (Mt 5:38-39 ESV)

Taken at face value, Jesus’ words seem to imply a passivity towards violence and domination, suggesting that Christians should be weak-willed and cowardly when faced with an oppressor.  However, Wink’s analysis of the cultural and political context brings forth more subtle meanings that present a much different approach to facing an enemy, each of which overcome the patterns of suppression and restore humanity and dignity to the marginalized.

Like in many cultures today, Jewish people reserved their left hand for unclean tasks, and therefore would hit other people only with the right hand.  In order to hit someone on the right cheek (as the passage says), one would have to use the back of the hand – a slap when someone of a higher social standing wishes to disrespect or demean someone of a lower class.  So, by turning the left cheek towards an assailant, the person would prevent a second slap, essentially making a person be  hit ’straight up.’  Wink explains that for Jewish people of the time, to hit someone with a closed fist suggested equality between both parties.  In essence, then, turning the other cheek means that the second blow would not be demeaning or dehumanizing; Jesus’ words suggest a way for the attacked to assert their honor and dignity even when others attempt to marginalize them.

In this case, a study of the cultural milieu reveals a completely different meaning in the text.  Many of the greatest insights by the most popular preachers today (Rob Bell comes to mind first) revolve around explaining cultural diffrences hand-in-hand with a particular passage of Scripture.  Often hearing these explanations totally turn around my understanding of a particular lesson or story.

All of this leads to an important question: does a surface-level reading of a text like this create more harm than good?  Should we approach all scriptural analysis with the assumption that we need to know all about the context to understand its meaning, or is it possible to learn the message from a straighforward, no-research reading?  Some diferences are subtle or benign, but others suggest great departures from a ’simple read-through.’  How do we draw the line?  Should we leave all Bible study to the trained professionals – and the books they publish?  Should all Christians become experts in Roman and Jewish history?  To an untrained outsider, there is much of the Bible (and tghe Christian faith in general) that needs some extra explaining – shoukd we simply increase the level of study required?


axis mundi, and leaving the centers of power

June 9, 2008

Much of the book of Hebrews explains the story of Jesus within the context of the Israelite history and culture.  Near the end of the letter, the author includes a paragraph that mentions how sacrifices were made back when the Israelites were wandering around the desert, and how that tradition relates to the death of Christ (13:11-14).

It begins like this: “The high priest carries the blood of animals into the Most Holy Place as a sin offering, but the bodies are burned outside the camp.”

All religious systems and teachings structure existence; they define locations, actions, and people as either sacred or profane.  Religion is a force that provides order within the overwhelming chaos of life, and often the most sacred place within a religious tradition is called an axis mundi (lit. “world axis”), that point around which all life revolves and is based.  For the Israelites, the Most Holy Place was where the Glory of God lived, and there were strict limitations as to who and when people could approach that holy place.  There is a clear division between those things that are ‘profane,’ the bodies of the sacrifices.  They are taken outside of the camp where they cannot pollute society.  They are to be avoided and abandoned.

We move on. “And so Jesus also suffered outside the city gate to make the people holy through his own blood.”

One of the greatest mysteries of the Incarnation is the dramatic departure from the traditional ways of knowing God: God is the sum of all that is sacred and holy, and humanity has learned to keep the sacred away from the profane, to venerate and treat God with utter respect.  With the cross of Jesus, however, the incarnate God chooses to stay in the profane places, ultimately suffering the most profaning and humiliating death imaginable.  How can the concepts of sacred and profane remain distinct when the holy God allows such a defiling action to occur?

Jerusalem was the place for the Jewish people.  The temple (and Most Holy Place) were there, and people made pilgrimages to that site to make sacrifices and connect with God.  Jesus did not have similar aspirations – the only time Jesus went to Jerusalem it was to be arrested, tried, and crucified.

The passage continues: “Let us, the, go to him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace he bore.”

With this sentence the tables are turned: no longer involved in heady theological concepts, suddenly the command is to follow Jesus to those places of abandonment, enduring the suffering and disgrace that occurs on the edges of society.

Growth and ’success’ are typically seen as getting closer and closer to ‘the center of things,’  Financial analysts dream of working on Wall Street, fashion designers long to live and work in Paris, and tech geeks plan ways to make it in Silicon Valley.  For each of their respective industries, those places are an axis mundi – “the” place you need to be if you want to make it, to be somebody.  They are the places of power and influence, of abundant financial and social capital, and these places exert a disproportionate influence on the world and its resources.

So the author of Hebrews challenges this view, instead saying we should stop seeking those places of influence, instead actively choosing to enter into those places of disgrace, abandonment, and misery.  On one level, this downward migration allows us to escape the insatiable and never-ending desire for success and influence, revealing that there remains much loneliness and brokenness in those places “at the top.”  But also, and more significantly, those rejected places have much to teach us because Jesus is there.  These deserted places offer us the opportunity to connect with the Jesus who rejected the ‘high and mighty’ locations in order to come down to be with us and create relationships with us.

The passage concludes. “For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come.”

In its most basic essence, the decision to move into a deserted place is a declaration of hope.  As an action full of symbolic meaning, it declares that those abandoned and ‘profane’ places have the potential to be touched by the restorative grace and goodness of God, and that God has already decided to participate in their sufferings and offer the joys that can only be discovered in knowing Jesus.