INTERPRETATION: THE HERMENEUTICAL PRECONDITION
Another important precondition to evangelical theology is the belief that it is possible to obtain an objective interpretation of God’s revelation in both Scripture and nature. Since these two revelations are the bases of all that we know about God, it is necessary that we understand them correctly, for if an objective understanding of the truth God has revealed through them is not possible, then discourse about God is not possible, let alone a comprehensive discourse about God (which is known as systematic theology).1
SUBJECTIVITY IN HERMENEUTICS
The primary challenge to the hermeneutical precondition of systematic theology is the subjective interpretation of God. According to this view, it is not possible to have an objective understanding of a disclosure from God for several reasons.
Subjectivity in Meaning (Conventionalism)
First of all, it is argued that there is no such thing as objective meaning in a text. The prevailing view in modern linguistics is conventionalism, which insists that all meaning is culturally relative. This model springs from such modern writers as Ferdinand de Saussure (1857–1913), Gottlob Frege (1848–1925), and Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889–1951).
This argument was examined earlier (in chapter 6) and found wanting for many reasons. For one thing, it is self-defeating to claim, “All meaning is culturally relative”; this very proposition is offered as a nonrelative, meaningful statement. One cannot claim to have an objective view that all meaning is subjective—not without self-contradiction. In order to make a meaningful statement about all meaning, one must take an objective stance outside the culture. But if all statements are culturally dependent, then this is not possible. Thus, the first pillar of subjectivism crumbles under close scrutiny.
Subjectivity in the Mode of Communication
Another argument offered in favor of subjectivism in interpretation is that no objective grounds exist for communicating a revelation from God to us. Since God is an infinite Mind, while human beings have finite minds, and since there is an infinite difference between an infinite and a finite, no common ground of meaning is possible between the two.
This objection was handled in two earlier chapters (6 and 7) in which it was demonstrated that there are undeniable principles of rational thought that are common to both God and man. Since logic is based in the very rational nature of God, it is neither arbitrary nor relative. God is subject to the law of noncontradiction just as we are. He is a self-consistent rational being, and as such He cannot hold logically opposite propositions to be true.
Likewise, the infinite difference between God and man does not mean there is a total lack of similarity, for the Creator must resemble its creature. A cause cannot give what it does not have to give; God cannot produce what He does not possess. He who brought other things into existence must exist Himself, and He who gave goodness must be good. The principle of analogy between God and creatures is firmly rooted in the intrinsic relation between an efficient cause and its effect. Thus, another premise of subjectivism is unsuccessful.
SUBJECTIVITY IN INTERPRETATION
So far it has been shown that there is objective meaning, and that it can be objectively expressed, even by an infinite, rational God to finite, rational beings. The remaining question is whether or not finite beings are capable of deriving the objective meaning that is objectively expressed in a divine revelation. Many modern and contemporary scholars have argued that this is not possible. A few crucial names will illustrate the point.
Heidegger’s Existentialism
Martin Heidegger (1889–1976) developed an existential hermeneutic that denied objective meaning was possible. He was influenced by the phenomenological method2 of Edmund Husserl (1859–1938), the nihilistic concerns of Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900), the historical approach of G. W. F. Hegel (1770–1831), the personal subjectivity of Søren Kierkegaard (1813–1855), and the mystical metaphysics of Plotinus (205–270 a.d.).
The earlier and later Heidegger are a study in contrasting emphases:
|
Early Period |
Late Period |
|
Anthropological |
Hermeneutical |
|
Heavy Style |
Freer and Lighter |
|
(Being and Time) |
(Intro to Metaphysics) |
|
DREAD |
JOY |
|
Phenomenological |
Mystical |
The later Heidegger gave rise to a subjective hermeneutic, but the groundwork of this was laid in his earlier existentialism of Being and Time. In this work he stressed man’s inauthentic everyday existence, which has three fundamental aspects:
(1) Facticity, in which man finds himself cast into a world not of his own willing;
(2) Existentiality, which is the act of appropriating or making my world mine. Through this, man, by self-projection and self-transcendence, understands the world and becomes himself;
(3) Forfeiture, meaning that unfortunately we not only shape our world but we also forfeit to it. We forget “Being” in our quest for particular beings. So man is determined (put here), yet man is free to make of the world what he will. But the all essential “I” is hidden throughout most of life by daily routines in the tension of the historical (e.g., the call of my situation, family, country).
Nonetheless, against this scattering inauthenticity, Heidegger singles out an authentic being, called Dasein,3 and develops his concept of existential time, which involves three things.
The first is dread, which is a momentary state of mind in which we turn back in the flight from ourselves with honesty. Dread is an objectless fear, a sense of nothingness that grasps me when I face the whole of it as ending in death. Hence, I dread my life as a whole, because it is bounded and grounded in death (nothingness). Dread, then, reveals that we are a “being-unto-death.” This sets us free from the illusion of the “they.”4
The second is conscience, which is the voice that expresses itself through dread. It is the voice of the self to itself, calling it from forgetfulness to the responsibility of being itself. It is the call from inauthenticity. We must recognize that we are “thrown” into the world not of our own choosing, and yet it is precisely this condition that I must choose.
The third is destiny, which is found in death. Existential time is my time, namely, from birth to death. Only by choosing my time and the role into which I have been cast am I properly “historical,” that is, in possession of a destiny.
In brief, Being and Time pictures the lonely will, driven by dread, to face the prospect of its own nothingness and in retrospect its own guilt, and yet also to realize in this the terror of its own freedom.
Building on this existential basis, the later Heidegger turns his attention to hermeneutics (in Introduction to Metaphysics). Here four emphases are found.
The first emphasis is history, in which the intellectual history of the West is found. Being, as distinct from particular things, is almost nothing—a haze, as Nietzsche said. We have “fallen out of Being” and betrayed our true vocation by running foolishly after this thing and that. So it is the history of our being that we should be forgetful about Being.
The second emphasis is the darkening of the world, a world in which we live in our forgetfulness of Being. We are more concerned with beings, from genes to spaceships, than with our true calling, which is to be shepherds and watchers of Being. Inventiveness, not understanding, has been our occupation. We are more concerned with proliferation of technical skills than with metaphysical unity. So we have lost Being; it has become haze, an error—nothing.
The third emphasis is Greek philosophy, the key to overcoming this forgetfulness of Being. In fact, according to Heidegger, philosophy can only be done properly in Greek and German; the Latinization of Greek philosophy has been the source of error. Between Parmenides (b. 515 b.c.) and Aristotle (384–322 b.c.), the error began by making a dichotomy between Being and Thought. For Parmenides these were one, but by the time of Aristotle, Being had broken loose from its first great anchorage and floated out in that tide of nihilism on which we are still adrift. Thus, we have lost the presocratic aletheia (Gr: “truth”), the unhiddenness of being, and truth has become a characteristic of propositions (a mere “correspondence” with “facts”). It is this loosening of truth from Being that has lead to nihilism.
The fourth emphasis is poetry and language, the means through which Heidegger wishes to recall humankind from nihilism to Being. It is by language that man stands open to Being, and unlike the pseudo-terminology of science, which has lost its hold on Being, the true origin of language is in poetry. Poetry is the primal language of a historical people in which it founds Being; hence, the great poets are the ones who can restore language to its essential power—as a revealer of Being. Thus language is the foundation and house of being, especially the poetic language of Friedrich Hölderlin (1770–1843) (who had a keen tie with classical antiquity). Through him we may hope to get some “mittances”5 of truth, some illumination of Being, some relevation of the Holy. We are, as it were, “waiting for god” (cf. Waiting for Godot)—a god remote from theology or piety, a god who presides over the long-lost Being of which we are in quest.
In his later works, Heidegger discarded Kierkegaard as a mere religious writer, refuted Jean-Paul Sartre’s (1905–1980) humanistic existentialism, and opted more for Nietzsche, Holderlin, and Rainer Maria Rilke (1875–1926, “pathological poetry”). In his early work, Heidegger affirmed that man speaks through language; in his later work, he affirmed that Being speaks through language. Since the presocratics let Being speak through language, etymology of Greek works is the key to the true meaning of words. This became the basis of Kittels’s massive Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, which traces the origin and history of Greek words in a quest to find their real meaning.
An Evaluation of Heidegger’s Existential Hermeneutic
Heidegger is commendable in displaying a quest for being, expressing an openness to being, seeing language as a key to reality, preserving the evocative value of poetry and metaphor, and even asking the right question: “Why is there something rather than nothing at all?”
Nonetheless, there are serious flaws in his subjective existential hermeneutic. A few can be briefly spelled out.
First, Heidegger’s subjective existential hermeneutic involves the unfounded assumption that Being is unintelligible in itself. But how could Heidegger know this about Being unless Being were intelligible?
Second, it is self-defeating to attempt to express the inexpressible. If Being is beyond description, how is it that Heidegger succeeds in describing it for us?
Third, language does not establish being but expresses it. It does not found Being but reveals it to us, that is, if it is truly descriptive of it.
Fourth, Heidegger’s assertion against a correspondence view of truth is self-destructive, for he assumes that his denial of a correspondence view of truth corresponds with reality. But correspondence with reality is precisely what is meant by a correspondence view of truth.
Fifth, he purports an openness to Being but rejects God, who is Being—Pure Actuality (see volume 2, part 1). Every contingent being (which Heidegger admits man is) needs a Necessary Being to ground its existence.
Sixth, Heidegger neglects the analogical ability of language to speak meaningfully of God (see chapter 9), and he rejects the descriptive ability of language for its evocative dimension.
Seventh, Heidegger asks the right question but rules out an adequate answer. He responds to “Why something, not nothing?” by saying it can be asked about God too. But it cannot—at least not meaningfully. God is an Uncaused Being, and of such a Being it is not meaningful to ask what caused the Uncaused. One may as well ask, “Who is the bachelor’s wife?”
Eighth, Heidegger expects all readers of his books to use the standard hermeneutic of searching for the author’s meaning. But this is directly contrary to the subjective hermeneutic he taught to be used on other writings.
Ninth, etymology is not the key to the meaning of a term. This position was thoroughly critiqued by a noted liberal scholar, James Barr, in his Biblical Semantics. The fact that the word board originally meant a wooden plank is not helpful in determining its meaning in the term “Chairman of the Board.”
Tenth, Heidegger’s hermeneutic reduces to an unverifiable mysticism. How does one know that the “mittances” of light obtained through the “pathological” poets are not from the angel of light (2 Cor. 11:14)?
In spite of the defects in his view, Heidegger had a significant influence on the work of others, including the metaphysics of Paul Tillich (1886–1965), the sitz-im-leben (real-life situation) ground for demythology of Rudolf (Karl) Bultmann (1884–1976), the unprotectedness (or openness to Being’s voice) of Karl Barth (1886–1968), and the “new hermeneutic” of Gerhard Ebeling and Hans Gadimer.
Derrida’s Deconstructionism
Like most thinkers, even innovators, Jacque Derrida (b. 1930) stands on the shoulders of great minds who have gone before him. From Plato he received his negationism—the idea that all determination is by negation. From Immanuel Kant (1724–1804) he learned his agnosticism, and Søren Kierkegaard taught him fideism. From G. W. F. Hegel he borrowed his progressivism (see definition on page 167), albeit applied to hermeneutics; Friedrich Nietzsche taught him atheism, and Sigmund Freud (1856–1939) modeled psychologism for him. Ludwig Wittgenstein is the source of his linguistical solipsism, and Ferdinand de Saussure instructed him in conventionalism. Edmund Husserl is his model for perspectivalism, or relativity in truth (see chapter 7); William James (1842–1910) taught him pragmatism and the will to believe, while Martin Heidegger is the one whose existentialism he emulates.
Derrida is responsible for writing many influential books, among which are Speech and Phenomena (1973); Of Grammatology (1976); Writing and Differance (1978); Positions (1981); Ear of the Other (1985); Limited, Inc. (1988); Edmund Husserl’s Origin of Geometry: An Introduction (1989); and Spectors of Marx (1994).
Derrida was an atheist regarding the existence of God and an agnostic concerning the possibility of knowing absolute truth. He was also anti-metaphysical, claiming that no metaphysics is possible. He believed we are locked in our own linguistic bubble, yet he recognized that using language to deny metaphysics is a form of metaphysics itself. This incoherence points to the need for archi-writing (a new poetic protest against metaphysics).
Derrida realized that archi-writing may be a use of signs without signification, that is, a writing that risks meaning nothing—it may be words facing the infinity of a white page. Nonetheless, he pressed his deconstructional objection.
What Deconstructionism Is Not
Deconstructionism, at least for Derrida, is not a destruction of a text but a reconstruction of it. As such, it is not negation but criticism; it is not a dismantling of a text but a remodeling of it. Deconstructionism does not annihilate, but rather recreates the text; it is not against analysis but against all fixed analyses, and accordingly it claims not to be angry with the text but in love with it. It is not opposed to reading the text but opposed to not rereading it constantly for new meanings.
What Deconstructionism Is
Deconstructionism involves many beliefs that challenge an evangelical understanding. Some of the more important ones are the following:
Conventionalism. Following Saussure, Frege, and Wittgenstein, Derrida was a conventionalist, holding that all meaning is relative. There is no objective or absolute meaning, at least not for finite minds (and he rejected an infinite Mind—God).
Nonreferentialism. Derrida believed that there is no perfect reference—all one-to-one correspondence is impossible. My concepts are uniquely mine; hence, meaning is never perfectly transferable.
Contextualism. Further, Derrida held a form of contextualism, which means that all texts have different context, and the meaning of a text is determined by the context in which it is read. We can constantly change a given context, but we cannot escape having a limited context—we cannot know from an infinite perspective.
Differentialism. According to Derrida, “difference” or the unknown in a text is the most important part of it. All rational structures leave something out, and, therefore, we must bring everything under suspicion.
Linguistical Solipsism. Derrida embraced a form of linguistical solipsism, namely, that we cannot escape the limits of language. We can broaden our linguistic concepts, but we cannot transcend linguistic boundaries.
Semantical Progressivism. Derrida also held to semantic progressivism—that possible meanings never end. Thus, philosophy never ends, for we never exhaust all possible meanings of a text; the text can always be further deconstructed.
Fideism. Derrida has also insisted that faith is always necessary. Since absolute meaning is impossible, indecision is inescapable. We are always between absolute certainty and absolute doubt, between skepticism and dogmatism. As a result, faith is always essential.
An Evaluation of Deconstructionism
First, deconstructionism is a form of linguisticalism, which affirms that all meaning is limited by language. However, this very statement—that all meaning is limited by language—places itself outside the limits of language.
Second, deconstructionism also embraces conventionalism, contending that all meaning is relative to our situation. But once again, how can it make these nonconventional statements? If “All meaning is culturally relative,” then so is that statement. If the statement is not culturally relative, then it destroys itself.
Third, deconstructionism believes that the laws of logic are dependent on language, which is culturally relative. But the reverse is true: Language is based on logic. Without logic language would not be possible; indeed, the laws of logic are undeniable (see chapter 5).
Fourth, deconstructionism’s linguisticalism is self-defeating, for if there were no meaning prior to language, then language could not be learned. One must have the rational ability to understand language in order to learn a language.
Fifth, deconstructionism is also a form of perspectivalism—holding that all truth is conditioned by one’s perspective. But if “all truth is perspectival,” what about that statement? It is a nonperspectival statement, and it claims that there can be no such statements.
Sixth, there is the self-defeating nature of Derrida’s hermeneutic. He expects his texts to be interpreted according to what he meant by them, which is directly contrary to how he says texts should be interpreted.
Seventh, recall the self-defeating nature of agnosticism about truth and meaning. Derrida’s view amounts to saying that “it is an ultimate truth that there is no ultimate truth.” Or, “No meaning is fixed, even the meaning of this statement.” Or, “All truth is perspectival, including this truth.” Or, “Meaning is never perfectly transferable, including the meaning of this sentence.”
Eighth, Derrida’s implicit defense of fideism is self-defeating. It is tantamount to making a case for not making a case.
Ninth, as Derrida seems at least partially aware, it is self-defeating to attempt to deny metaphysics without making metaphysical statements. His effort to resist it (by poetic language) is futile, for he knows he cannot avoid the use of metaphysical language to deny metaphysics. Such an absurdity does not point to the need for poetic language; it shows the self-destructive nature of denying metaphysics.
Tenth, it is fruitless to turn to poetry to avoid metaphysics. Metaphysical questions still exist, and they cannot be answered in anything but metaphysical language. Any so-called poetical protest is nothing more than an exercise in ventilating one’s tonsils.
Eleventh, Derrida’s view is a form of reader imperialism. The birth of the reader spells the death of the author; the author’s meaning dies once a reader takes over. But no deconstructionist really wants his books read in this manner; clearly he expects the reader to understand his (the author’s) meaning and not to read his (the reader’s) own meaning into it.
Twelfth, there is the failure to see that the lack of one-to-one correspondence does not eliminate all true correspondence. True correspondence can be one to many, i.e., one and the same meaning can be expressed in many ways.
Thirteenth, in deconstructionism there is a subtle dogmatism of attempting to eliminate the dogmatic. Nothing is more dogmatic than the dogmatic claim that nothing can be known for sure. There is nothing of which we should be more suspicious than the view that demands that we be suspicious of everything else. Deconstructionists do not blush to ask us to accept as a fixed meaning the claim that no meaning can be fixed.
Bultmann’s Demythology
Rudolf Bultmann (1884–1976) applied Heidegger’s existentialism to the New Testament by his demythological subjectivism.
Bultmann’s Argument for Demythological Naturalism
Rudolf Bultmann built his case on several lines of thought. At the basis of it is his concept of a three-storied universe with the earth in the center, the heaven above (where God and angels are), and the underworld beneath. Supernatural forces intervene in the course of nature and in all that we think and will and do (Bultmann, KM, 1).
We need to strip the New Testament documents of this mythological structure. For all this is the language of mythology and is incredible to modern man, for he is convinced that the mythical view of the world is obsolete. For all our thinking today is shaped by modern science. So “a blind acceptance of the New Testament would involve a sacrifice of the intellect. It would mean accepting a view of the world in our faith and religion, which we should deny in our everyday life” (ibid., 3–4).
Bultmann pronounces the biblical picture of miracles as impossible to modern man, for “man’s knowledge and mastery of the world have advanced to such an extent through science and technology that it is no longer possible for anyone seriously to hold the New Testament view of the world—in fact, there is hardly anyone who does.” Therefore, the only honest way of reciting the creeds is to strip the mythological framework from the truth they enshrine. Bultmann concludes confidently that the Resurrection is not an event of history, “for an historical fact which involves a resurrection from the dead is utterly inconceivable” (ibid., 38–39).
Bultmann offers several reasons for this antisupernatural conclusion. First, there is the incredibility of a mythical event like the resuscitation of a corpse. Second, there is the difficulty of establishing the objective historicity of the Resurrection no matter how many witnesses are cited. Third, the Resurrection is an article of faith, which, as such, cannot be a miraculous proof. Fourth, there are other like events known to mythology (ibid., 39–40).
Therefore, according to Bultmann, since the Resurrection is not an event of objective, space-time history, it is an event of subjective history; that is, it is an event of faith in the hearts of the early disciples. Consequently, it is not subject to objective historical verification or falsification, for it is not really an event in the space-time world. Christ did not rise from Joseph’s tomb; He arose only by faith in the disciples’ hearts.
Bultmann’s argument can be summarized like this:
(1) Myths are by nature more than objective truths; they are transcendent truths of faith.
(2) But what is not objective cannot be part of a verifiable space-time world.
(3) Therefore, miracles (myths) are not part of the objective space-time world.
An Evaluation of Bultmann’s Argument That the New Testament Contains Myths
Several objections have been offered to Bultmann’s mythological naturalism. First, it is built on at least two unproven assumptions:
(1) Miracles are less than historical because they are more than historical.
(2) Miracles cannot occur in the world without being of the world.
Both of these assumptions are wrong. Miracles can be more than historical without being less than historical, and miracles can originate from beyond the world and still be acts within the world (see chapter 3).
Second, Bultmann’s view is without foundation, having no evidential basis. Mythological events are unverifiable; that is, they have no evidential value.
Third, Bultmann’s view is unbiblical, being contrary to the overwhelming evidence for the authenticity of the New Testament documents and the reliability of the witnesses. Indeed, it is contrary to the New Testament claim for itself not to be “cunningly devised fables” (2 Peter 1:16 nkjv) but an eyewitness account (cf. John 21:24; 1 John 1:1–3).
Fourth, the New Testament is not the literary genre of mythology. One great Oxford scholar, himself a writer of myths (fairy tales), keenly noted, “Dr. Bultmann never wrote a gospel.” He asks, therefore, “Has the experience of his learned … life really given him any power of seeing into the minds of those long dead [who have written one]?” As a living author of myth, C. S. Lewis (1898–1963) found the critics usually wrong when they attempted to read his mind rather than his words. However, he adds, “the ‘assured results of modern scholarship,’ as to the way in which an old book was written, are ‘assured,’ we may conclude, only because the men who knew the facts are dead and can’t blow the gaff.” In brief, Bultmannian biblical critiques are unfalsifiable because, as Lewis wryly remarks, “St. Mark is dead. When they meet St. Peter, there will be more pressing matters to discuss” (Lewis, CR, 161–63).
Finally, the claim that the New Testament miracles are myths, not history, is refuted by numerous lines of evidence (see part 2, chapter 26).6
OBJECTIVITY IN HERMENEUTICS
There are, of course, many other forms of subjectivism in hermeneutics. They too fail, since all involve self-defeating statements, and any attempt to deny an objective interpretation implies that one is possible, namely, the one by which the subjectivist’s view is expected to be understood. That is, every subjectivist expects that readers can and should come to an objective understanding of his subjectivistic views.
The Basis of an Objective Hermeneutic
The foundation for objectivism in hermeneutics is not simply found in the self-destructive nature of subjectivism; it is based also in the solid arguments in favor of all the major elements necessary to have an objective interpretation of a revelation. These include:
(1) the existence of an absolute Mind (God);
(2) the absolute nature of meaning;
(3) the analogy between infinite understanding and finite understanding; and
(4) the ability of finite minds (made in God’s image) to understand truths revealed by God.
The Existence of an Absolute Mind
The existence of an absolute Mind was established earlier (in chapter 2). To refresh:
(1) At least one finite mind exists (me), for without thinking I cannot deny I think. And I am limited in my thought, or I would not doubt or discover new thoughts, which I do.
(2) The principle of causality demands that every finite thing needs a cause (see chapter 2).
(3) Hence, it follows that there must be an infinite Mind that caused my finite mind. This is true for two reasons: One, a cause can’t give what it doesn’t have (analogy—see chapter 9). Two, the effect cannot be greater than its cause; water cannot rise higher than its source. So, if the effect is intelligent, the Cause must be intelligent. An infinite Mind must exist.
Absolute Meaning
If there is an absolute Mind, then there can be absolute meaning. The objective basis for meaning is found in the Mind of God. Whatever an infinite Mind means by something is what it means objectively, infinitely, and absolutely. Therefore, the existence of objective and absolute meaning is grounded in the existence of an absolute Meaner (God).
Analogy and Meaning
Not only is the theistic God (see chapter 2) of Christianity infinitely knowledgeable (omniscient), but He is also omnipotent (infinitely powerful). An infinitely powerful God can do whatever is not contradictory, and it is not contradictory for an infinite Mind to convey meaning to finite creatures, since there is a common ground between them in both the undeniable laws of thought (see chapter 5) and in the similarity (analogy) between Creator and creature (see chapter 9).
To be sure, an infinite Mind knows things in a much higher way than finite minds do. But while how God knows things is different than how man knows, nevertheless, what He knows is the same as what He reveals to humankind. That is, the thing signified is the same, but the mode of signification is different for God and for us.
The Image of God in Man
If an absolute Meaner exists, then there can be absolute meaning. An all-powerful God can do whatever is not impossible to do. It is not impossible for an infinite Mind to communicate with finite minds, since there is common (analogous) ground between them.
However, there remains one question: Can a finite mind discover the objective truth that has been objectively disclosed to it? It’s one thing for an author to disclose his thoughts in a book, and quite another for a reader to understand what he has revealed.
The answer to this question is in two parts. First, it is possible to know, since all the necessary conditions for knowing the objective meaning expressed by God have been met. Second, whether one will actually know the objective meaning that has been objectively expressed will depend on meeting the necessary conditions for understanding this objective meaning.
THE PRINCIPLES OF OBJECTIVE HERMENEUTICS
The Principles of Understanding God’s Special Revelation Objectively
Since God has given revelation, and since it is possible for us to understand its meaning, we need to understand what guidelines to use in the process of interpreting it. The following are the principles we must bring with us as we approach God’s special revelation, Scripture.
Look for the Author’s Meaning, Not the Reader’s
The objective meaning of a text is the one given to it by the author, not the one attributed to it by the reader. Readers should ask what was meant by the author, not what it means to the reader. Once a reader discovers what the author meant by the text, he has obtained its objective meaning. Thus, asking, “What does it mean to me?” is the wrong question, and it will almost certainly lead to a subjective interpretation. Asking of the author, “What did he mean?” will almost certainly lead the reader in the right direction, that is, toward the objective meaning.
Look for the Author’s Meaning (What), Not His Purpose (Why)
Another road to hermeneutical subjectivity leads to the author’s purpose rather than to his meaning. Meaning is found in what the author has affirmed, not in why he affirmed it. Purpose does not determine meaning. One can know what the author said without knowing why he said it. Two examples will suffice to elucidate this point.
First, if one says, “Come over to my house tonight,” there is no difficulty in understanding what is meant, even though the purpose for the invitation is not known. What is understood apart from why. The meaning is apprehended, even though the purpose is not known.
Of course, if the purpose is known, then the statement may take on a whole new significance. But meaning and significance are not the same. Meaning deals with what? and significance deals with so what? For example, if the purpose of the invitation is to inform you that you lost a loved one, as opposed to that you won ten million dollars, then the significance is quite variant. However, the meaning of the statement, “Come over to my house,” is identical in either case.
Second, to offer a biblical illustration, Exodus 23:19 commanded the Israelites: “Do not cook a young goat in its mother’s milk.” The meaning of this sentence is very clear, and every Israelite knew exactly what they were not supposed to do. However, the purpose of this command is not clear at all. A survey of a few commentators yields a variety of different hypotheses as to the purpose of this command:
(1) It profaned the Feast of Ingathering.
(2) It would cause indigestion.
(3) It was cruel to cook a goat in the milk that nourished it.
(4) It was a form of idolatry.
(5) It violated the parent/child relationship.
In other words, nobody seems to know for sure what the purpose was. Yet everyone knows for sure what the meaning is. If purpose determined meaning, then no one would know what the meaning is. Thankfully, it doesn’t. What is said is clear apart from why it was said.
Look for Meaning in the Text, Not Beyond It
The meaning is not found beyond the text (in God’s mind), beneath the text (in the mystic’s mind), or behind the text (in the author’s unexpressed intention); it is found in the text (in the author’s expressed meaning). For instance, the beauty of a sculpture is not found behind, beneath, or beyond the sculpture. Rather, it is expressed in the sculpture.
All textual meaning is in the text. The sentences (in the context of their paragraphs in the context of the whole piece of literature) are the formal cause of meaning. They are the form that gives meaning to all the parts (words, punctuation, etc.).
Applying the six causes to meaning will help explain the point. Following Aristotle, scholastic philosophers distinguished six different causes:
(1) efficient cause—that by which something comes to be;
(2) final cause—that for which something comes to be;
(3) formal cause—that of which something comes to be;
(4) material cause—that out of which something comes to be;
(5) exemplar cause—that after which something comes to be;
(6) instrumental cause—that through which something comes to be.
Remember the example of the chair? A wooden chair has a carpenter as its efficient cause, to provide something to sit on as its final cause, its structure as a chair as its formal cause, wood as its material cause, the blueprint as its exemplar cause, and the carpenter’s tools as its instrumental cause.
As we have seen, applying these six causes to meaning yields the following analysis:
(1) The writer is the efficient cause of the meaning of a text.
(2) The writer’s purpose is the final cause of its meaning.
(3) The writing is the formal cause of its meaning.
(4) The words are the material cause of its meaning.
(5) The writer’s ideas are the exemplar cause of its meaning.
(6) The laws of thought are the instrumental cause of its meaning.
The meaning of the writing is not found in the meaner; he is the efficient cause of the meaning. The formal cause of meaning is in the writing itself; what is signified is found in the signs that signify it. Verbal meaning is found in the very structure and grammar of the sentences themselves. Meaning is found in the literary text itself—not in its author (efficient cause) or purpose (final cause), but in its literary form (formal cause). Again, meaning is not in individual words (which are the material cause).7
Look for Meaning in Affirmation, Not Implication
Another guideline in discovering the objective meaning of a text is to look for its affirmation, not its implication. Ask what the test affirms (or denies), not what it implies. This is not to say that implications are not possible or important, but only that the basic meaning is not found there. Meaning is in what the text affirms, not in how it can be applied.
There is only one meaning in a text, but there are many implications and applications. In terms of meaning, the sensus unum (one sense) view is correct; however, there is a sensus plenum (full sense) in terms of implication.8
The Principles of Understanding God’s General Revelation Objectively
God has not only revealed Himself in Scripture (special revelation) but in nature (general revelation) as well. And, like Scripture, general revelation must be interpreted—there are right and wrong ways to do so. In the same way, there are good and bad guidelines for interpreting general revelation.
The Biblical Basis for the Intelligibility of General Revelation
General revelation is found both in creation (Ps. 19:1f) and in conscience (Rom. 2:12–15). The latter, called natural law, is described in the Bible as that which human beings “do by nature” (Rom. 2:14). It is the law “written on the hearts” of all men (ibid.). Those who disobey it go “contrary to nature” (Rom. 1:27).
The general revelation in nature is objectively clear and evident to all men, even in their fallen state. Psalm 19:1–4 affirms,
The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world. (emphasis added)
The use of terms like “declare,” “proclaim,” “speech,” “knowledge,” “words,” and “voice” demonstrate that it is an intelligible, objective revelation of God. Phrases like “all the earth,” and “to the ends of the world,” and the fact that it covers all language groups, show beyond question that this natural revelation is universal.
In Acts 14, where Paul is speaking to the heathen at Lystra, he appeals to a common “nature” (v. 15 nkjv) and that “He [God] did not leave Himself without witness” (v. 17 nkjv) as the grounds for their believing that there was a “living God, who made the heaven, the earth, the sea, and all things that are in them” (v. 15 nkjv). Unless this natural revelation to pagans was intelligible, such an appeal would be meaningless.
Likewise, while speaking to the Greek philosophers on Mars Hill, the apostle appealed to natural revelation as the basis for belief that there is a “God, who made the world and everything in it” (Acts 17:24). Indeed, he even argues from the nature of human beings as “the offspring of God” (v. 29 nkjv) to the spiritual essence of the “Divine Nature.”
Using this same reasoning in Romans 1, Paul declared that “since the creation of the world His [God’s] invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made” (Rom. 1:20 nkjv). Noteworthy here is the assertion that this natural revelation is absolutely clear to all human beings, even those without the aid of special revelation. The use of the words “clearly seen” (Rom. 1:20), “manifest in them” (v. 19), “is revealed” (v. 17–18), and “God has shown it to them” (v. 19) demonstrate unquestionably that this objective revelation is not only knowable (v. 19), but it is actually known by unbelievers. Indeed, it is so clear that “they are without excuse” and condemned to their eternal destiny because they “repress” (v. 18) this truth they possess.
The same is true of God’s natural revelation in the human heart. In Romans 2:12–15 (niv) Paul affirms,
All who sin apart from the law will also perish apart from the law [of Moses], and all who sin under the law will be judged by the law.… (Indeed, when Gentiles, who do not have the law, do by nature things required by the law, they are a law for themselves, even though they do not have the law [of Moses], since they show that the requirements of the law are written on their hearts, their consciences also bearing witness, and their thoughts now accusing, now even defending them.) (Emphasis added)
In fact, Paul deems the natural revelation so clearly “written on their hearts” that even the heathen, who do not have special revelation, will “perish.” In brief, Scripture teaches that God’s objective revelation in nature is intelligible and all human beings are accountable before God in view of it.
Objections to the Intelligibility of General Revelation
Many arguments have been offered against the objectivity of general revelation. However, all of them fall short of the mark. For detailed responses to these objections see chapter 4.
Hermeneutical Principles for Interpreting Natural (General) Revelation
Once natural revelation has been located, it remains to be seen how it should be interpreted. Like the correct principles of understanding God’s special revelation in Scriptures, the truth expressed in nature and the law “written on our hearts” can be readily understood as well.
As we have seen, according to Scripture, God’s revelation expressed in nature is clear and evident to all rational beings (Rom. 1:19–20). Why, then, is the validity of God’s natural revelation so hotly disputed?
The Principle of Causality
Famous atheist Friedrich Nietzsche revealed the reason when he said, “We receive, but we do not ask where it came from.” In short, he rejected one of the principles of human reason that would lead naturally to God if he had applied it. It is natural to conclude that the gifts of life come from the Giver of life—unless, of course, one rejects the fundamental guideline of reason that every gift (effect) has a giver (cause). In short, the principle of causality is an essential hermeneutical principle in interpreting natural revelation.
In his BBC debate with Frederick Copleston, renowned agnostic Bertrand Russell (1872–1970) gave the same maneuver as Nietzsche. When asked what caused the universe, Russell responded that it did not need a cause: “I should say that the universe is just there, and that’s all” (cited in John Hick, EG, 175). But every other thing that could not be—yet is—needs a cause, so why does the universe not need one?
As Richard Taylor showed long ago, if all would agree that a small glass ball found in the woods needs a cause, then making it bigger does not eliminate the need for a cause—even if one makes it as big as the whole universe (Taylor, M, 87–88). The fact is, the reason non-theists do not come to the reasonable conclusion that the world needs a cause is that they fail to apply consistently a fundamental principle of reason—that every finite thing needs a cause. In other words, they are not using the correct hermeneutical approach to natural revelation. This is evident also in the failure to interpret properly God’s revelation in human nature.
The Principle of Consistency
Another fundamental principle of interpreting the law written on our own nature can be called the principle of consistency, which is a practical application of the law of noncontradiction. Being selfish creatures, we do not always desire to do what is right. However inconsistently, we do, nonetheless, desire that it be done to us.
So by reason we conclude that consistency demands that we should also do the same to others; this is why Jesus summarized the moral law by declaring, “In everything do to others what you would have them do to you” (Matt. 7:12). Confucius (551–479 b.c.) recognized the same basic truth by general revelation when he said, “Never do to others what you would not like them to do to you” (Confucius, AC 25.23; cf. 12:2). Human reason, then, is necessary to determine the proper means to the good end that we intuitively know is right.
The Principle of Uniformity
While we intuitively know that we should do no harm to another, nevertheless we must use our reason to tell us that shooting a gun at someone will do them harm. This we know because of the principle of uniformity. All past experience tells us that a gun can kill someone (which is severe harm). Just like the principle of causality is needed to understand God’s natural revelation in nature, the law of uniformity is necessary to understand that it is wrong to intentionally take the life of another person.
The Principle of Teleology
Briefly stated, the principle of teleology says that every rational agent acts for an end. This principle is behind all rational communication, whether in special revelation or in general revelation. Purpose (design) can be seen in nature and, hence, we posit a Designer of nature. Intelligent beings act for an end, and so when we see nature act for an end, we naturally come to the conclusion that there is an intelligent Being behind nature.
The principle of teleology is also assumed in all ethical acts, for if there were no purpose (or intent) to perform an act, then a person is not responsible for the act. Personal moral responsibility implies the ability of the person to respond. Moral culpability implies intentionality. Thus to know if an act is morally wrong we must look for evidence of moral intention. Here, too, reason is necessary to interpret properly what is morally right or wrong.
Other Principles of Interpreting Natural Revelation
In addition to the four principles just mentioned as necessary for a proper hermeneutic of natural revelation—causality, consistency, uniformity, and teleology—there are also four general laws of logic:
(1) the principle of noncontradiction;
(2) the principle of identity;
(3) the principle of excluded middle; and
(4) the principle (s) of rational inference (see chapter 5).
Without these principles, valid reasoning about anything is not possible, to say nothing of reasoning about natural revelation. When these principles are applied correctly and consistently to natural revelation, the result is a valid natural theology (Rom. 1:1–20) and natural ethic (Rom. 2:12–15), the very areas in which God holds all persons responsible.
SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION
God has two great revelations: general and special, natural and supernatural. Both are objective and clear. Both are capable of distortion by depraved human beings. There are proper and improper ways to interpret each. The correct way in each case is to follow the basic principles inherent to each. These include the basic laws of logic as well as the principles of causality, consistency, uniformity, and teleology. When these principles are applied correctly and consistently to general revelation, they will yield a proper understanding of it. But like the interpreting of special revelation, a correct understanding of natural revelation depends on using the right principles and using them consistently. In the final analysis, the natural law is not hard to understand; like God’s supernatural law, it is simply hard to practice.
SOURCES
Barr, James. Biblical Semantics.
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Bultmann, Rudolph. Kerygma and Myth: A Theological Debate.
Calvin, John. Institutes, Book I, Chapters 2, 10.
Carson, Donald. Gagging God.
Confucius. Analects of Confucius.
Craig, William. Knowing the Truth About the Resurrection.
Derrida, Jacque. Of Grammatology.
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———. Writing and Differance.
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Geisler, Norman L. Miracles and the Modern Mind (chapter 6).
Hemer, Colin J. Acts in the Setting of Hellenistic History.
Hick, John. The Existence of God.
Hooker, Richard. Of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity.
Howe, Thomas. Objectivity in Hermeneutics (unpublished doctoral dissertation for Southeastern Baptist Seminary, 1998).
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Lewis, C. S. The Abolition of Man.
———. Christian Reflections.
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1 Hermeneutics is the study of the general principles of biblical interpretation.
2 Phenomenology is “a method for the description and analysis of consciousness through which philosophy attempts to gain the character of a strict science. A 20th-century philosophical movement, the primary objective of which is the direct investigation and description of phenomena as consciously experienced, without theories about their causal explanation and as free as possible from unexamined preconceptions and presuppositions. The word itself is much older, however, going back at least to the 18th century, when the Swiss-German mathematician and philosopher Johann Heinrich Lambert applied it to that part of his theory of knowledge that distinguishes truth from illusion and error. In the 19th century the word became associated chiefly with the Phänomenologie des Geistes (1807; Phenomenology of Mind, 2nd ed., 1931), by G. W. F. Hegel, who traced the development of the human spirit from mere sense experience to ‘absolute knowledge.’ The so-called Phenomenological movement did not get under way, however, until early in the 20th century. But even this new Phenomenology includes so many varieties that a comprehensive characterization of the subject requires their consideration” (Encyclopedia Britannica Online).
3 Lit. “the being there,” i.e., man.
4 That is, the anonymous crowd.
5 Pieces, or sparks.
6 The evidence that the New Testament is not a myth is based upon sound evidence. First, it was written by contemporaries and eyewitnesses of the events (cf. Luke 1:1–4). Second, insufficient time exists for a legend to develop while the eyewitnesses were still alive to refute the story (see Craig, KTAR, 96); It takes two full generations for a myth to develop, time not available between the New Testament events (primarily c. a.d. 29–33) and the earliest documents (c. a.d. 50–55). Third, the work of noted Roman historian Colin Hemer overwhelmingly confirms the historicity of the New Testament (see Hemer, ASHH). Fourth, the Virgin Birth accounts do not show any signs of being mythological. One great twentieth-century myth writer himself noted, “I have been reading poems, romances, vision-literature, legends, myths all my life. I know what they are like. I know that not one of them [the Gospels] is like this” (Lewis, GD, 154–55). Fifth, the surrounding persons, places, and events of Christ’s birth were all historical. Luke goes to great pains to note that it was in the days of “Caesar Augustus” (Luke 2:1) that Jesus was born and later baptized in “the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, Herod being tetrarch of Galilee … Annas and Caiaphas were high priests” (Luke 3:1–2 nkjv). Sixth, no Greek myth spoke of the literal incarnation of a monotheistic God into human form (cf. John 1:1–3, 14) by way of a literal virgin birth (Matt. 1:18–25). The Greeks were polytheists, not monotheists. Seventh, the stories of Greek gods becoming human via miraculous events like a virgin birth were not prior to but after the time of Christ (Edwin Yamauchi, “Easter—Myth, Hallucination, or History” in Christianity Today, 2 parts; 3/15/74; 3/29/74).
7 As has been demonstrated, words have no meaning in themselves; they have only usage in a sentence, which is the smallest unity of meaning. Words are only the parts of a whole (the sentence), and it is the whole that has meaning.
Recall this example: Einstein knew that e=mc2 (Energy equals mass times the speed of light [constant] squared), and so does an average high school science student. However, Einstein knew many more implications of this than the average high school student.
Inasmuch as God inspired the text, He sees more implications in a biblical affirmation than does the human author (1 Pet. 1:10–12; 2 Tim. 3:16). But He does not affirm any more meaning in the text than the human author does, for whatever the Bible says, God says. That is, whatever the Bible affirms is true, God affirms is true. They both mean exactly the same thing by the text. There are not two texts, and there are not two meanings of the text. So both the divine and human authors of Scripture affirm one and the same meaning in one and the same text.
Geisler, N. L. 2002. Systematic theology, volume one: Introduction, Bible (160). Bethany House Publishers: Minneapolis, MN
