Journal of Theological Interpretation Supplements

There is a broad consensus among biblical scholars that creation ex nihilo (from nothing) is a late Hellenistic concept with little inherent connection to Genesis 1 and other biblical creation texts. In this book, Nathan J. Chambers forces us to reconsider the question, arguing in favor of reading this chapter of the Bible in terms of ex nihilo creation and demonstrating that there is a sound basis for the early Christian development of the doctrine.

Drawing on the theology of Augustine of Hippo and Thomas Aquinas, Chambers considers what the ex nihilo doctrine means and does in classical Christian dogma. He examines ancient Near Eastern cosmological texts that provide a potential context for reading Genesis 1. Recognizing the distance between the possible historical and theological frameworks for interpreting the text, he illuminates how this doctrine developed within early Christian thought as a consequence of the church’s commitment to reading Genesis 1 as part of Christian Scripture. Through original close readings of the chapter that engage critically with the work of Jon Levenson, Hermann Gunkel, and Brevard Childs, Chambers demonstrates that, far from precluding interpretive possibilities, reading Genesis 1 in terms of creation from nothing opens up a variety of interpretive avenues that have largely been overlooked in contemporary biblical scholarship.

Timely and innovative, this book makes the case for a new (or recovered) framework for reading Genesis 1 that will appeal to biblical studies scholars and seminarians.

Christian readers of the Hebrew Bible are often faced with a troubling tension. On the one hand, they are convinced that this ancient text is relevant today, yet on the other, they remain perplexed at how this can be so, particularly when parts of it appear to condone violence. Barker’s volume seeks to address this tension in two parts: (1) by defending a particular form of theological interpretation and (2) by applying this interpretive method to the imprecatory psalms.

Barker suggests that the goal of theological interpretation is to discover God’s voice in the text. While he recognizes that this goal could encourage a subjective methodology, Barker offers a hermeneutic that clearly locates God’s voice in the text of Scripture. Utilizing the resources of speech act theory, Barker notes that texts convey meaning at a number of literary levels and that God’s appropriation of speech acts at these levels is not necessarily uniform for each genre. He also discusses how the Christian canon alters the context of these ancient speech acts, both reshaping and enabling their continued function as divine discourse. In order to demonstrate the usefulness of this hermeneutic, Barker offers theological interpretations of Psalms 69 and 137. He demonstrates how christological fulfilment and the call to forgive one’s enemies are determinative for a theological interpretation of these troubling psalms, concluding that they continue to form an essential part of God’s voice that must not be ignored.

Few passages in the Old Testament are as enigmatic as Daniel 9:24-27. It makes sense, therefore, that a myriad of interpretations surround these four verses. Expanding on Brevard Childs’s brief work on Daniel, Haydon responds to this question with a canonical approach to Dan 9:24-27: reading a text that is shaped to include future generations of faithful interpreters. The first part lays the groundwork for a canonical approach. Whereas most biblical scholars read Daniel 9 through the lens of historical- and composition-critical tools, Childs and his readers frame the chapter within the larger theological message of the book. The second section is an interpretation of 9:24-27 in its canonical context, doing exegetical and theological work in tandem.

Daniel 9:24-27 is, of course, an apocalyptic text leading the reader through the Antiochene crisis and beyond. The theology of the chapter, however, asks us to look back to the Law and the Prophets: Leviticus 25-26 and Jeremiah 25-29 are integral to Daniel 9. Traditions begun in the preceding corpora—rest, sin-debt, and kingdom (Lev 26:34-35; Jer 25:10-12, 29:10-14)—find their culmination in Dan 9:24-27. Haydon’s study brings these texts to bear on the “seventy sevens” in Daniel 9:24. After a careful study of the phrase’s background, we discover that the construction refers to more than a number or even a single event. This time-image points to a larger pattern of rulership wherein leaders rise and fall (vv. 25-26), while the Ancient of Days remains the true King. Ambiguity also plays a part: Daniel 9:24-27 lacks historical detail for a reason—namely, to create an interpretive space that a faith community can occupy. The final form of Dan 9:24-27 is a theological construct allowing multiple generations to live in expectation of God’s rule. A biblical theology of Daniel 9:24-27, moving into the New Testament and contemporary Christian reception, concludes Haydon’s study.

Theologians and Old Testament scholars have been at odds with respect to the best interpretation of the imago Dei. Theologians have preferred substantialistic (e.g., image as soul or mind) or relational interpretations (e.g., image as relational personhood) and Old Testament scholars have preferred functional interpretations (e.g., image as kingly dominion). The disagreements revolve around a number of exegetical questions. How do we best read Genesis 1 in its literary, historical, and cultural contexts? How should it be read theologically? How should we read Genesis 1 as a canonical text? This book charts a path through these disagreements by offering a dogmatically coherent and exegetically sound canonical interpretation of the image of God. Peterson argues that the fundamental claim of Genesis 1:26–28 is that humanity is created to image God actively in the world. “Made in the image of God” is an identity claim. As such, it tells us about humanity’s relationship with God and the rest of creation, what humanity does in the world, and what humanity is to become. Understanding the imago Dei as human identity has the further advantage of illuminating humanity’s ontology.

Canonically, knowledge of the contours and purpose of human existence develops alongside God’s self-revelation. Tracing this development, Peterson demonstrates the coherence of the OT and NT texts that refer to the image of God. In the NT, Jesus Christ is understood as the realization of God’s image in the world and therefore the fulfillment of the description of humanity’s identity in Genesis 1. In addition to its specific focus on resolving interdisciplinary tensions for Christian interpretation of the imago Dei, the argument of the book has important implications for ethics, the doctrine of sin, and the doctrine of revelation.

What do rituals have to do with knowledge? Knowledge by Ritual examines the epistemological role of rites in Christian Scripture. By putting biblical rituals in conversation with philosophical and scientific views of knowledge, Johnson argues that knowing is a skilled adeptness in both the biblical literature and scientific enterprise. If rituals are a way of thinking in community akin to scientific communities, then the biblical emphasis on rites that lead to knowledge cannot be ignored. Practicing a rite to know occurs frequently in the Hebrew Bible. YHWH answers Abram’s skepticism—“How shall I know that I will possess the land?”—with a ritual intended to make him know (Gen 15:7–21). The recurring rites of Sabbath (Exod 31:13) and dwelling in a Sukkah (Lev 23:43) direct Israel toward discernment of an event’s enduring significance. Likewise, building stone memorials aims at the knowledge of generations to come (Josh 4:6).

Though the New Testament appropriates the Torah rites through strategic reemployment, the primary questions of sacramental theology have often presumed that rites are symbolically encoded. Hence, understanding sacraments has sometimes been reduced to decoding the symbols of the rite. Knowledge by Ritual argues that the rites of Israel, as portrayed in the biblical texts, disposed Israelites to recognize something they could not have seen apart from their participation. By examining the epistemological function of rituals, Johnson’s monograph gives readers a new set of questions to explore both the sacraments of Israel and contemporary sacramental theology.

The 4th-century teacher, Didymus the Blind, enjoyed a fruitful life as head of an episcopally-sanctioned school in Alexandria. Author of numerous dogmatic treatises and exegetical works, Didymus was considered a stalwart defender of the Nicene faith in his heyday. He duly attracted the likes of Jerome and Rufinus to his school. Contemporary scholarship has focused most of its attention on understanding him as an exegete, especially focusing on his exegetical vocabulary and the driving assumptions behind his particular method of reading Scripture. The theological literature has been somewhat neglected. In this study, Jonathan Hicks makes the claim that Didymus’s exegesis can only be understood in all its fullness in light of his theological commitments. His acute differences with Theodore of Mopsuestia on the proper reading of the prophet Zechariah cannot be understood as merely methodological. Animating Didymus’s reading of the prophet is a lively understanding of Trinitarian missions. Recognizing the comings of the Son and the Spirit to Israel is essential in locating the prophet’s message properly within the one divine economy of revelation and salvation that culminates in the Incarnation of Christ. Hicks argues that Didymus is instructive here for today’s Church both on the level of praxis (we should adopt some of his reading practices) and on the level of theoria (his Trinitarian account of Scripture’s origin and ends is fundamental to a fully Christian understanding of what Scripture is).

Few phrases in Scripture have occasioned as much discussion as has the “I am who I am” of Exodus 3:14. What does this phrase mean? How does it relate to the divine name, YHWH? Is it an answer to Moses’ question (v. 13), or an evasion of an answer?

The trend in late-nineteenth- and twentieth-century scholarly interpretations of this verse was to superimpose later Christian interpretations, which built on Greek and Latin translations, on the Hebrew text. According to such views, the text presents an etymology of the divine name that suggests God’s active presence with Israel or what God will accomplish for Israel; the text does not address the nature or being of God. However, this trend presents challenges to theological interpretation, which seeks to consider critically the value pre-modern Christian readings have for faithful appropriations of Scripture today.

In “Too Much to Grasp”: Exodus 3:13?15 and the Reality of God, Andrea Saner argues for an alternative way forward for twenty-first century readings of the passage, using Augustine of Hippo as representative of the misunderstood interpretive tradition. Read within the literary contexts of the received form of the book of Exodus and the Pentateuch as a whole, the literal sense of Exodus 3:13–15 addresses both who God is as well as God’s action. The “I am who I am” of v. 14a expresses indefiniteness; while God reveals himself as YHWH and offers this name for the Israelites to call upon him, God is not exhausted by this revelation but rather remains beyond human comprehension and control.

That readers and biblical texts are somehow linked in a mutually transformative relationship is hardly a novel perception, especially in contexts where the Christian Bible has been received as normative Scripture for faithful worship and living. This study focuses on an aspect of this relationship and wrestles with it not only in theory, but also in practice by asking: How may a reader who wishes to read the Christian Bible as Scripture well today be formed; and how may interpretations of Scripture themselves inform such concern?

Vincent Ooi begins by showing that such concern is not only contemporary but integral to Christian traditions of reading Scripture, and that it is only recently receiving some renewed scholarly attention. He reviews some of these recent works before setting out his own approach from the perspective of theological interpretation of Scripture. He then demonstrates his approach via close exegetical engagement with three biblical texts, namely Nehemiah 9:6–37, Ezekiel 20:5–32, and Acts 7:2–60, which offer different inner-canonical readings of Scripture in the form of distinctive retellings of Israel’s story. He first considers how these texts portray readers of Scripture and use scriptural traditions in relation to the wider context of the Christian canon; he then discusses what they, individually and in concert, might suggest as significant for shaping readers seeking to faithfully appropriate Scripture today. The posture of prayer, the pulse of liturgy, and the patterning of Christ are among the things proposed as formatively significant.

Since Brevard Childs first introduced it as a “fresh approach” in the late 1960s, canonical exegesis has grown into a widely discussed and developed program—virtually a “school” of biblical interpretation—with many scholars carrying forward an approach to theological exegesis that emphasizes the role of canon as the central context for interpretation of the Christian Scriptures. In this study, Keener takes a twofold approach: (1) he demonstrates that a canonical exegesis is tenable if the task is approached with clarity regarding its core theological foundation; and (2) he applies the approach to the interpretation of the often thorny questions surrounding the understanding of Psalm 8. This is useful in that Psalm 8 touches upon several questions germane to the successful implementation of canonical exegesis due to the many intertextual connections it shares with the rest of the Bible. Keener concludes that Psalm 8 in the Old Testament represents the intersection of two trajectories: (1) the reversal motif in which YHWH maintains the created order through the exaltation of the weak and the humble; and (2) the motif of the conflicted and conflicting human, in which humans are shown as beset by trials, often failing and even occupying the role of the enemies of YHWH. A third trajectory becomes visible in the context of the New Testament, that of the redeeming Christ; this third trajectory intersects with the two Old Testament trajectories and makes possible the redemption of conflicted humanity, giving the ultimate answer to the psalmist’s question, “What is the human?”

The proliferation of work on the theological hermeneutics of Scripture in recent years has challenged and reimagined the divisions between systematic theology and biblical studies on the one hand and academy and church on the other. Also notable, however, has been the absence of a full-length treatment of theological interpretation from a Wesleyan perspective. This monograph develops a Wesleyan theological hermeneutic of Scripture, approached as a craft learned from a tradition-constituted appropriation of John Wesley’s hermeneutics. This hermeneutic requires a descriptive analysis of the context, grammar, and ruled reading of the literal sense in Wesley’s interpretive practices, as well as critical interaction with the analysis in light of contemporary issues. As a result of this interaction, continuity and discontinuity between Wesley’s and Wesleyan interpretation emerges and is accounted for.

The Wesleyan theological hermeneutic developed here defines the church as Spirit-formed context within the larger divine economy of salvation, in contrast with Wesley’s emphasis on individual soteriology and underdeveloped ecclesiology. Within this community context, Wesleyan theological interpretation is a means of grace whereby the Holy Spirit reinterprets the identity of readers into children of God. Theological interpretation invites readers on a Wesleyan account to participate in the textually mediated identity of Jesus Christ through the gracious work of the Holy Spirit. Wesleyan identity is therefore a figurally created identity based on the literal sense of Scripture. Wesley’s analogy of faith, which rules his reading of Scripture, thus gives way to a more explicitly trinitarian rule of faith.

Major religious themes of the Bible, such as election and covenant, are not mentioned in the book of Proverbs. Furthermore, self-interest underlies its motivational system (“you shall behave well, because it will be good for you”). These “selfish” and “secular” features have posed serious ethical and theological challenges for some interpreters, while others have claimed that their presence is only in the eyes of the beholder.

After a thorough investigation of the history of Proverbs’ interpretation in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, Zoltán Schwáb argues that its self-interested and secular nature should not be simply affirmed or dismissed. The question is not whether Proverbs is selfish and secular but in what ways it is selfish and secular and within what conceptual framework one is supposed to interpret these characteristics. In order to construct a proper framework, Schwáb uses such diverse sources as Thomas Aquinas’ theological ethics, modern secularization theories, ancient Near Eastern temple ideology, and the theological tradition of God’s incomprehensibility. The result is a reading that simultaneously reflects on the ancient context of the text and the concerns of its readers in a secular world.

If, therefore, someone is a prophet, he no doubt prophesies, but if someone prophesies he is not necessarily a prophet.—Origen

Origen, writing sometime in the mid-third century on the Gospel of John, has charted a course for the subsequent history of interpretation of true and false prophecy. Although Tarrer’s study is concerned primarily with various readings of Jeremiah’s construal of the problem, the ambiguity inherent in Origen’s statement is glaring nonetheless.

This monograph is a study of the history of interpretation. It therefore does not fit neatly into the category of Wirkungsgeschichte. Moving through successive periods of the Christian church’s history, Tarrer selects representative interpretations of Jeremiah and Ezekiel in later theological works dealing explicitly with the question of true and false prophecy in an effort to present a sampling of material from the span of the church’s existence. As evidenced by the list of “false prophets” uncovered at Qumran, along with the indelible interpretive debt owed by Christian interpreters such as Jerome and Calvin to Jewish exegetical methods, Jewish interpretation’s vast legacy quickly exceeds the scope of this project. From the sixteenth century onward, the focus on the Protestant church is, again, due to economy. In the end, Tarrer concludes that the early church and pre-modern tradition evidenced a recurring appeal to some form of association between Jeremiah 28 and the deuteronomic prophetic warnings in Deuteronomy 13 and 18.

How does one limit a biblical text? Can one limit it? Should one? These questions drive one to examine core assumptions of biblical interpretation, assumptions about the aims and attitudes one brings to the task of reading the Bible. Is the aim of biblical exegesis to uncover what really happened, to discover the author’s intentions, to attend to the interpretations of readers—ancient and/or contemporary? Furthermore, should the interpreter approach biblical texts from a position of neutrality, suspicion, and/or faith?

Strahan’s book aims to offer a (not the) set of answers to these questions by bringing historiographical theory, hermeneutical theory, and theology into conversation, a conversation centered around a case study that deals with limiting the meaning(s) of an enigmatic Gospel text: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34a). Borrowing insight from Augustine’s De Doctrina Christiana, this book offers a renewed, ecclesially located strategy for dealing with polysemy in biblical texts, a strategy that holds together many of the strengths offered by contemporary theological interpreters.

Christian interpreters have struggled with the story of Ezra 9–10 for many reasons. Its apparent legalism and racism, as well as its advocacy of divorce as a solution for intermarriage, is unacceptable for many Christians, yet this incident is presented in implicitly positive terms, and the narrative forms a part of Scripture. What then should a Christian reader make of such a story, not least from the vantage point of the NT?

The troubling aspects of the incident are considered in Part I through a detailed exegesis outlining the exiles’ legal reasoning, rooted in pentateuchal laws. Part II then discusses questions of a broader hermeneutical framework. Saysell suggests that prior Christian assumptions, such as the combination of scriptural authority and the primacy of narrative in interpretation, can lead to an unhelpful way of reading stories that takes them as examples to follow/avoid rather than invites engagement for the renewing of the mind (Rom 12:1–2). One also needs to consider how such a difficult question as intermarriage is handled in the rest of the canon (and in tradition), which put into perspective the solution offered and constrains the meaning of the primary text. Specifically, “the holy seed” rationale (Ezra 9:2), which gives rise to the charge of racism, is shown to have flourished briefly in the Second Temple Period but proved to be a dead end in the long run. A comparison with the NT treatment of a specific intermarriage crisis in 1 Cor 7:12–16, as well as with other, present-day solutions, can highlight what went wrong in the exilic reasoning and yet what constructive challenge the text as Scripture may hold for the Christian reader.

The struggle to read Jeremiah 31:31–34 as Christian Scripture has a long and divided history, cutting across nearly every major locus of Christian theology. Yet little has been done either to examine closely the varieties of interpretation in the Christian tradition from the post-Nicene period to the modern era, or to make use of such interpretations as helpful interlocutors. This work begins with Augustine’s interpretation of Jer 31:31–34 as an absolute contrast between unbelief and faith, rather than the now-standard reading (found in Jerome) of a contrast between two successive religio-historical eras—one that governed Israel (the “old covenant”) and a new era and its covenant inaugurated in the coming of Christ. Augustine’s absolute contrast loosened the strict temporal concern, so that the faithful of any era were members of the “new covenant.” The study traces Augustine’s reading of an absolute contrast in a few key moments of Christian interpretation: Thomas Aquinas and high medieval theology, then the 16th and 17th century Reformed tradition. The thesis aims at a constructive reading of Jer 31:31–34, and so the struggle identified in these moments in the Christian tradition is brought into dialogue with modern critical discussions from Bernhard Duhm to the present. Finally, the author turns to an exegetical argument for an ‘Augustinian’ reading of the contrast of the covenants.

The book of Joshua has been received and used as Christian Scripture throughout Christian history. The challenge today, however, is how Christians should appropriately continue to read Joshua as Scripture, not least in the light of well-known historical and ethical difficulties with the narrative. In Reading Joshua as Christian Scripture, Douglas Earl draws on conceptual resources offered by recent anthropological approaches to myth and combines this with a close literary reading of the text, in order to argue that Joshua is misconstrued when it is treated as a historical account of conquest. Instead, in its ancient Israelite context Joshua functioned to reshape accepted norms of community identity, as reflected in the book of Deuteronomy, by forming a new “cultural memory.” Furthermore, Earl reconsiders the traditional notion of the “spiritual sense” of Scripture in terms of a rich account of symbol and also makes use of the narrative hermeneutics of Paul Ricoeur. The result is a fresh and unexpected reading of Joshua as Christian Scripture that develops the original function of the narrative in a way that resonates with classic premodern readings and is also challenging to contemporary Christian understandings of identity and faithfulness.

Irenaeus, the second-century bishop of Lyons, left such an impression upon the church that he is sometimes considered to be theology’s “founding father.” After all, his legacy includes such theological landmarks as the regula fidei (or “rule of faith”) and the doctrine of recapitulation. Although these ought not to be minimized, we may gain a new appreciation for this early bishop by highlighting a facet of his work that is even more central: the distinctive shape of the hermeneutic guiding his readings of sacred texts as Christian Scripture. Within the contemporary climate of twenty-first century theology, the reopening of questions of power, truth, authenticity, and holism points to a critique of hermeneutical process (not just theological end-product). In Irenaeus’s day, Gnostic Christians on the fringe of the church offered a vision of the telos of faith that many found compelling. Responding to this challenge required Irenaeus to articulate an even more satisfying Christian theology and anthropology on the basis of Scripture and received apostolic tradition. In this battle of hermeneutics, both sides considered protological texts such as Genesis 1:26 and 2:7 to be indispensible. Through a sympathetic reading, then, of Irenaeus and his competitors, we aim to better understand why Irenaeus’s biblical interpretations ultimately were deemed more plausible, faithful, and fruitful within the mainstream of the church.

Douglas Earl sets out a fresh perspective on understanding what is involved in reading Old Testament narrative as Christian Scripture. Earl considers various narratives as examples that model different interpretive challenges in the form of exegetical, ethical, historical, metaphysical, and theological difficulties. Using these examples, the significance of interpretive approaches focused on authorial intention, history of composition, canonical context, reception history, and reading context are considered in conjunction with spiritual, literary, structuralist, existential, historical-critical, and ethical-critical approaches. Christian interpretation of Scripture as Scripture is shown to be an inherently ad hoc task, understood as a rule-governed practice in Wittgenstein’s sense: an established goal-directed activity for which no method, hermeneutical principle, or critical perspective discovers ”meaning” or generates good interpretation. Good interpretation involves exploration of various construals of the “world of the text” using “hermeneutics of tradition” and “critique of ideology” (Ricoeur). The interpreter’s task is to discern faithful readings and develop their significance in a given intellectual or cultural context. The interpretation of Scripture and its appropriation is seen to involve wisdom in forming judgments on a case-by-case basis, learned through examples and experience, on what constitutes good interpretation and use. Earl shows how traditional hermeneutics and contemporary critical resources suggest that history, ethics, and theology can rarely be “read off” Old Testament narrative, but also how Christians can appropriate ethically and historically problematic books such as Joshua, faithfully adopt a “minimalist” approach to 1-2 Samuel, and embrace a Trinitarian reading of Genesis 1.