Summer School Recap Week 1

Methods and the Mania it Makes

For the second year in a row, I am teaching seminary style courses at my local church during the summer. At the core of it, me and my colleague Carson wanted to provide the layperson (the everyday church goer) with a foundation for thinking and studying the Bible, philosophy, theology, history, the Christian life, etc. We decided on the name Summer School, thinking it was a clever. A lot of people thought it was for youth students that needed community service hours or something. That, unfortunately, is hilarious.

I've decided to teach two classes this summer: Thinking Theology and New Testament Survey. I taught Thinking Theology last year and I believe it turned out fairly well. This course walks through the largest questions common to mankind and how theology, philosophy, and history tackles these subjects. Some of the questions are: Who is God? What is good and evil? Who am I?, etc.

The New Testament Survey course is much more typical for a seminary freshman. It’s a new course I’ve never taught before, so I’m kind of writing it as I go along in this grand experiment. I wanted to provide the academic discussions, interpretations, history, theology, and social world of the New Testament in hopes that people would have a better understanding of the most talked about 27 books in the history of the world. So far, I’m almost hesitant to say, I’m starting to really catch a stride.

As we’re going through the class, I’ve decided to post three key takeaways from each week, across both classes, as discussed by the students themselves. These takeaways are gathered from the subjects my students were most curious about, the emphases they gravitated towards, or what they seemed most interested in. Hopefully, this will 1) encourage you, dear reader, to desire knowledge and depth of insight (Philippians 1:9) 2) encourage you, dear student taking the course, to keep asking questions and foster curiosity and 3) encourage you, dear pastor or minister, to seek offering something similar to your congregations as a worshipful form of study.

So without further ado, here are the three key takeaways from week 1 of Summer School.

1. The Bible does not contain all knowledge, but certain knowledge

This statement alone may send some of my Sola Scriptura brothers and sisters into an immediate panic as they search for their wooden posts and kindling. There’s no need for stake burning today, my friends, this is a common theme throughout the history of the Church.

The idea here is that we must scrutinize the Bible under the parameters by which it is prepared to be scrutinized. I phrase it like this to my students; you will not find a recipe for chicken and dumplings in the Bible, neither will you find the water cycle, psychological theory, Forrest Gump, legends of el chupacabra, or if AI will kill us all. The Bible is not prepared to answer those questions because it does not contain that knowledge. The Bible is not a cookbook, a science textbook, a psychologists’ findings, a film, a book of folklore, or theories about the future. That’s not the kind of book the Bible is. The Bible has certain knowledge, not all of it.

Therefore, the questions must be asked, “what kind of knowledge does it have?” and “what kind of book is the Bible?”. It is canonized scripture, meaning it is a divinely inspired religious text upon which are legitimated by ecumenical councils throughout history. I consider this the highest form of literature. It has been meticulously studied, scrutinized, and autopsied by man and history. Despite its age and distance, it is considered the most sought after text in the history of the world and its teachings have captivated more people than any book ever written. It is, indeed, the highest form of the highest form.

It also contains the highest form of the highest form of knowledge. It has theological and philosophical knowledge and the subcategories those schools contain. Those are the questions it is prepared to deal with. These texts do not concern themselves with anything else. Theology and philosophy have two basic questions tied to them: “Who is God?” and “What is?”, respectively. Theology and philosophy are bedfellows that are inexorably tied to how you view the world, humanity’s place within it, and how you ought to act. The questions tied to theology and philosophy are the highest form of knowledge because there is no end to their inquiries. You can learn forever, think in eternity, and never come to a solid conclusion on the nature of things and God. Theological and philosophical pursuits are never satisfied. You will always be thinking about these things. This makes it the highest form of knowledge, out of reach of our puny brains with seemingly unanswerable questions.

However, we all are desperate to know the answers we cannot achieve. That seems to be the human dilemma. It was for Adam and Eve anyways. And we are descendants of those pesky people justing wanting to have knowledge and become, themselves, gods. Which leads me to why the Bible is the highest form of theological and philosophical knowledge: because it captures the essence of all of these questions. Its answers are not simple. If theology and philosophy is 1+2, the Bible isn’t a simple 3. It explains what “1” and “2” is in its purest form. Its answers are explanations of why we ask the questions in the first place. Secondly, it offers a solution to the angst and anxiety those highest questions tend to induce, which is to have this little thing called faith. Faith is confidence in unseen things, it is also the imaginative surrender of power and will. Christ heals, exorcises demons, saves the souls of Jew and Gentile alike on the grounds of faith, not for knowing the answers to the problems. Belief is the power, and faith is the answer. It’s paradoxical but, then again, so is the pursuit of this kind of knowledge to begin with. For that reason, the claims of the Bible are the highest form of the highest form, once again, and once for all.

2. Hermeneutics is the most essential discipline to students of Christianity

If you’ve ever been to a bible college or seminary, you’re likely rolling your eyes because hermeneutics is a catchall word for you people whenever you disagree with someone or, God forbid, someone disagrees with you. If you’ve never stepped foot into a theology or religion class, you are probably confused. That’s okay. Confusion, if treated as a friend, leads to enlightenment. Confusion, if treated like a foe, leads to ignorance.

Hermeneutics is the study of interpretation. I tell my students it’s kind of the categorical “lens” by which you read anything. It’s the bridge between a text and the knowledge you draw from it. For example, when Christ says to “sell your possessions and give to the poor”, there can be plenty of conclusions that can be drawn from that based on your hermeneutic. You can read that through an ethical hermeneutic, claiming it’s a comment on how the Christian ought to give generously to showcase the virtue of charity. You can read it through a literal hermeneutic, and sell everything you have and live amongst the homeless or in a monastery owning nothing. You can read it through a leftist hermeneutic, claiming its biblical precedence for the value of a socialist government. Your hermeneutic dictates the knowledge you draw from a text, and that knowledge will make you its host to do what it will in the world. For we are, after all, what we think.

Studying hermeneutics will explain a couple of things for the young, Christian in the process of becoming educated: 1) It will explain the numerous divisions throughout the church body. Every “denomination” is a tradition based on some hermeneutic. Methodism, Lutheranism, Pentecostalism, Catholicism all have their own hermeneutic. They are divisions that are all constantly using the Bible for their own legitimacy. The difficulty comes in when these hermeneutics lead to movements like Rastafarianism, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormonism, and the Branch Davidians. Every heresy uses the same Bible (perhaps with additions) as orthodox positions. The difference is the interpretation. 2) It will explain every complaint you have about the church at large. Are you upset with prosperity gospel preachers in their Gucci suits and veneers? They are using a hermeneutic to come to those conclusions. Are you upset with snake handling, hyper-charismatic Neo-Pentecostals? They are using a hermeneutic. Are you upset with reformed, John MacArthur following, craft coffee drinking Calvinists? They are using a hermeneutic.

I think studying hermeneutics provides the Christian with some empathy regarding their fellow Christians attempting to live holy lives and think holy thoughts. I think it will also invigorate the zeal they have for the “correct” hermeneutic as a revolution against “incorrect” ones. But therein lies the biggest question of all when it comes to interpretations, “which one is the correct one?”.

Ultimately, I think the answer to that question lies in the attempt to uncover the original meaning of texts rather than drawing out your own conclusions. We call this exegesis and eisegesis. Exegesis examines the cultural, social, linguistic, and textual evidence to achieve the intended theological or philosophical claim the text is trying to make. Eisegesis simply uses the reader’s own preconceived ideas to draw out whatever meaning the reader wants it to be. Exegesis is the correct hermeneutic, eisegesis can lead to all sorts of heresies that were refuted centuries ago. Exegesis should be the goal for any student of the Bible and the claims it makes. Without that, you are only a student of whatever your hermeneutic allows you to know.

3. Reading and writing are the only way to truly learn

With the first two takeaways in mind, this third one is the vehicle by which one is able to answer the unanswerable and exegete the sacred knowledge from the Holy Word. I had a student of mine one time ask me, “how did you get all this knowledge?”. I read and I write. There is no other way, no other route, no other method. Everyone wants the path of least resistance, and that creates only weak ideas, shallow thoughts, and hollow dreams. The paths of the most resistance, the one that struggles through the slough and perseveres through the muck and mire of study, produces the most impervious of philosophies and its beauty shall save the world.

It’s here that I feel like I lost a lot of my students. I’m telling laypeople, many of whom haven’t read or written anything in quite a while, to suddenly begin reading and writing. Not only that, but thinking, which is difficult in and of itself, is the core value. This, among other variables, always leads to a bit of a drop in attendance that second class. Knowledge is an uncomfortable journey, one that requires the path of most resistance should you want anything of worth to come of it.

When I told my classes they were to read and write a lot of them audibly laughed, some grimaced at the thought of “homework”, and some, the few and the proud, buried their hands in the notebooks ready to write every word they have ever thought. Some said “I can’t write 500 words that’s impossible!” and others would write about 5-6 pages, single spaced, and 11pt font treatises. Those in the middle wrote nothing, but I choose to believe they at least read and they listened, which is a decent alternative.

There are two things that I believe people misunderstand when I make the claim "reading and writing are the only true way to learn”: 1) people think that they need to write the perfect words of a genius and 2) the more you write, the smarter you look. I think, actually, the exact opposite of both of these are true.

For the first misunderstanding, no good teacher worth listening to will demand you read and write so you can come to some objective conclusion or “right answer”. That’s not the world of education, especially not of theology and philosophy. I don’t want a genius answer, I want honesty. I’d rather you spout 500 words of anxious, existential questioning that is nearly diagnosable as manic than pretending like you care about big words. A nice maxim writers live by is, “honesty is the best policy”. I don’t care about what linear answer Google gave you or what loose connection someone told you at your youth group in 2008. I care about the things you’ve noticed, the notes you wrote as you actively read, and the questions you have along the way. The only wrong answer is the dishonest one. And also the heresies but that’s what teachers and pastors are for, right?

In regards to the second misunderstanding, I have been guilty of this many times over. In fact, I’m afraid I may be guilty of this right now! I am naturally long-winded when it comes to writing. However, when it comes to academic writing and the type of learners should be doing, less is always more. I’d rather 100 great, honest words than 5,000 from a self-titled genius, to paraphrase Paul’s comment on tongue speaking in 1 Corinthians 14. In the same way, the more you write, the more it ends up being nonsense to anyone but God. The truth of the matter is, the more you try to explain yourself the dumber you end up becoming. One of the marks of a great writer is the one who can find the shortest distance between something read to something thought to something read again. With that comes, hopefully, a lot of comfort. I know it has for me at times. Yet there are other times where I have had to press backspace on the sentences I thought were workings of a genius because I realized they were musings of a fool.

Conclusion

The introductory classes to these courses are meant to set the student up for the rest of the summer. It contains what we in the academic world call “methods”. These methods are formulas for obtaining truth, whatever that may be. Ironically, these methods themselves are grounds for debates amongst scholars, making scholars like an ouroboros, a snake eating its own tail, spinning constantly in a cycle of absurdity.

But with any pursuit, knowledge is a risk. It is a calculated step towards changing how you think, which is always scary. But there’s a quote I heard recently that has been a mantra of mine

“You either live in uncomfortable freedom or safe slavery”

Is it uncomfortable? Then it’s probably good for you. If you want the freedom of knowing God, his word, and his wisdom, then you must be uncomfortable. Even the Israelites complained of the uncomfortable nature of freedom when marching in the desert in Exodus. They felt they at least had water and something to eat in slavery. But they were only fed and hydrated so they can repeat the endless cycle of abuse and oppression. Today, I believe, we have that same threat but in a more sinister form. We have been conditioned to oppress ourselves, yet call it freedom. There is no government, system, institution, or force that’s enslaving you. It’s your own comfortability.

Dare to know. Venture to think. Read a book. Write a good thought down. Maybe even write a bad one. But at least take a step to know the difference between the two. If you don’t, I’m afraid you will have no eyes that see, no ear that hears, nor a mind that can comprehend all that God has in store for you.

See you for week two…