"There must exist, beyond mere appearances … a 'veiled reality' that science does not describe but only glimpses uncertainly. In turn, contrary to those who claim that matter is the only reality, the possibility that other means, including spirituality, may also provide a window on ultimate reality cannot be ruled out, even by cogent scientific arguments."

How remarkable to find such academic honesty.  One is reminded of another quote, and I'm totally messing it up, but it goes to the effect, that scientist cliimb the pinnacles of reality, only to find the summit occupied by generations of theologians and philosophers.

The passage that precipitated this discussion was Mark 6: 1-6, but oddly enough it isn't this passage that has been eating away at me this evening.  After the service, some of us were discussing various things, including a project by Willow Creek where they tried to answer the question of what "church" really means Biblically speaking.  What they found in their surveys, was something any involved church member could have told them.  Most of the work in the church gets done by relatively few of the members.  The conclusion of the study was apparently that church is supposed to be a place where believers go to get fed, not used up, therefore we need to begin to cut away the extranious stuff of church and stop putting people to work.  They found that these active members were getting burnt out, so they rightly concluded that they needed to stop encouraging all believers to be ministers.

In fairness, I haven't seen this study, and apparently some really good things came of it, including a sort of Seminary program run by the church to enable believers to continue to grow beyond the basics.  But what bothered me was the idea that the problem was the work of the ministry and the expectation that all believers are ministers.  I said so.  In fact, my belief is that believers often suffer a lacking in their spiritual lives because they aren't in the fight. 

This thought brought about all kinds of objections, accusations of legalism and the like.  I'm sure I don't have this down, but I still say that one of the dynamic tensions in the Bible is the balance between salvation and works.  Now, I'm a once saved by the grace of God, always saved.  But the tension in my mind is that fruit will follow.  Whether that fruit is recognized or not may be up for debate, but the fact of growth and resulting fruit should be self evident, and in my mind that growth comes with the expectation of personal effort empowered by the power of the Spirit.  Surely the numerous passages such as Romans 6, 8, 12 and James reflect this.

In spite of these arguments, the disagreement still exists.  I say Salvation is not the work of man, but spiritual growth after the point of Salvation requires effort on the part of the believer.  Still, my friends insist that growth is the result of God's work and not my own, and therefore no effort is required or expected on my part.  What do you all think?

I called Alek, our oldest, to help me open the garage door, and I pulled the cable to disconnect the garage door from the garage door “opener.” Though it made a noise when I pulled the release, it took me several unsuccessful efforts to realize that I needed to pull harder. Once that was accomplished, and we lifted the door, I found that it would not stay up. So Alek stood on a little stool and held the door open while I backed the van out.

After this things went well for a while. I was about ready to leave with the children. Kristina had left, and I had sent the children out to get in the van. I was packing food into a cooler for the afternoon, and I decided to include an ice-pack. We keep those in the freezer in the garage. I opened the freezer door, and the light didn’t come on…(I just realized the theme of darkness that runs through this story. God is good at stories.) So that is when I remembered that the freezer is plugged into the same outlet as the garage door opener.

That’s…perfect.

The solution to this was easy. I grabbed the extension cord hanging on the wall to my left and made ready to restore power to the freezer. But I couldn’t reach the plug-in directly. The outlet was about waist high, just barely behind the freezer. The bad news was that the cold air return duct for our furnace prevented direct access. The good news was that the cold air return duct didn’t go all the way to the floor. The bad news was that I had a set of shelves, a full set of shelves nonetheless, right in front of the duct.

I cleared the second shelf from the bottom and tried to reach up to unplug the freezer. I couldn’t see what I was doing, though. It was too dark. I retrieved a table lamp from upstairs, and plugged it into the waiting extension cord. By the light of the lamp I found that I could just barely touch the freezer’s plug-in. It wasn’t 6 inches out of reach. I could touch it, but not get the leverage I needed. This was malicious. At this point I realized that I might plug the freezer and head off to the Messiah only to return to a house burned down because of a fire caused by a short-circuit in the attic. So I changed out of my nice clothes and climbed back up.

Wiggling all of the wires accomplished nothing. I then decided I needed to check the new switch I had installed when I put in the fan/heat lamp. The only flat-head screw-driver I could find was over a foot long. This search had taken me several minutes, and I knew that somewhere I had my favorite screw-driver with 15 bits including two flat-head bits.

I was livid. Every solution I had come up with spawned two or three additional problems like Tribbles. As I stomped upstairs with my Crocodile Dundee “that’s not a screw-driver” clenched in my fist, I stopped pretending that I hadn’t lost my temper. “God,” I cried, “what the hell are you doing?”

I proceeded to find that there was nothing discernibly wrong with the switch. Then I unloaded the shelves in front of the cold air duct and moved it out of the way so I could reach the plug-in. I plugged in the freezer, took an ice-pack, and left with the children.

The Messiah was beautiful. Jim from our church sang a couple of the solos, showing his true calling. Our children behaved perfectly. Once we returned home it was too late for baths and showers, though the boys would have liked the adventure of showering by the light of a table lamp plugged into an extension cord.

After we got home, I had related some of my frustration to Kristina. We have been learning the blessings of keeping a Sabbath, but I was thinking that God had made it so that I couldn’t this week. But she said, “At least you don’t have to worry about it for a day.” So I sat down on our couch for a couple of minutes. This is when God made his point.

Nicholas, our 8 year old, started setting up a chess board. I told him to put it away because it was too late to play. He responded with a well-practiced scowl. I called him over to sit next to me on the couch, but I didn’t say anything. As we both sat there silently, the Holy Spirit piped up and said to me, “Doesn’t this look familiar?”

I drew Nicholas’s attention to the light being out in the bathroom and told him that I had grown very angry about this before we had left in the afternoon. I said that we both needed to learn to respond without anger when things don’t go the way we want them to go. Then we both prayed, asking God to help us respond righteously when things go “wrong.”

Then we got up from the couch. Nicholas went upstairs to get ready for bed, and I walked into the dining room. This is when I heard Kristina call out, “You fixed it! What did you do?”

Checkmate!

Miracle.

I am not alone in trying to unlearn self-reliance and anger. God is active in my life. He orchestrated my whole day to show me my heart – how I was self-directed, walking in darkness and determined to have my own way.

I also realize that my anger doesn’t only affect me. Since that day Kristina has said things like, “I hope you figure this out soon” to draw attention to my attitude. I am learning to recognize when God prepares to remove my anger, and I am learning to let go quickly. I don’t want the whole lesson.

For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. (Romans 8:13)

Two clear differences from standard commentaries are that TIS tends to discuss precritical comments and theology to a greater extent. The former is truly discontinuous from most evangelical work today, but the latter is already pervasive among evangelicals. While mainline churches may keep theology out of commentaries, this is certainly not true for evangelicals. A comment by a United Methodist pastor helps to show the difference: “I love reading commentaries, but I have never, ever found a sermon in one.”[1] In contrast, large numbers of evangelical commentaries (often called expositional commentaries) are simply sermons put into print. Many commentaries today, especially evangelical commentaries, include sections on theology and application. Expositional commentaries tend to look like TIS in form. So do biblical scholars need TIS if it ends up in the same place as they would anyway?

I think that this problem arises because the strongest divide between TIS and evangelical scholars is the embracing of a theological presupposition at the beginning of the exegetical process instead of arriving at the theology only at the end. Even though evangelical scholars emphasize theology, they strive to start the study of the text by removing their own presuppositions, not embracing them.[2] For example, when Donald Hagner wrote his Matthew commentary, he desired it to be uninfluenced by others.[3] But the problem is that this embracing of presuppositions is very difficult to show. It is not something that can be put into a commentary, since it is a way of thinking rather than the thinking itself which could be put on paper or explained to someone else. So the end result is that the main difference between TIS and evangelical scholars is a factor which cannot be shown.

One idea to help in this area would be to allow TIS authors to tell more about who they are and their background. This would allow their readers to know some of their presuppositions and their theological framework as they read their work. A great example of this kind of background is given by Hagner.[4] TIS has not done this so far, and a journal dedicated to TIS (Journal of Theological Interpretation) explicitly forbids including any self-referential comments in their articles. If we are as influenced by our context as TIS says we are, then it is only reasonable that we tell our readers what that context is.  A similar idea has been suggested by Green (locating a commentary within an ecclesial community), but it does not seem to have been followed.[5] The downside of this tactic is that it not only takes up valuable space in a book but also that knowing an author better might cut down on sales: the farther people are theologically from the author the less likely they are to buy the book.

In order to answer the perpetual question of what TIS looks like, two commentary series have been initiated recently which focus on TIS.

Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible

The “Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible” (BTCB) is one of those attempts to put TIS into commentary form; at the time of writing this paper five volumes have been published with several more due out soon.[6] The authors in BTCB are primarily theologians rather than biblical scholars. This series gives great flexibility to their authors to decide how to write their commentary. The first volume to appear (Pelikan's Acts) is unique, as he inserted three theological loci in each chapter, resulting in 84 short theological essays. The later volumes do not follow this pattern, but simply incorporate their theological reflections into the text itself. 

This series seems close to the TIS ideal, although the broad vision given to the authors has resulted in commentaries that are quite diverse. As TIS desires, they focus much more upon theology while they are discussing the text than the average commentary. The problem for me and many reviewers, however, is precisely that theology. It seems that the commentaries tell us more about the theology of the author of the commentary than the book being commented upon. For example, we hear a great deal about pacifism from Hauerwas and the doctrines of the early church from Pelikan. This is even mentioned by Hauerwas in his introduction ("Some may find disconcerting that some of the readings of Matthew that I offer confirm positions that I have taken in previous works"), but he says that he has these ideas in the first place because they are supported by the text.[7]

Another example is found in Leithart's commentary on Kings. There are many helpful aspects to this commentary, particularly his frequent mentions of intertextual connections with other parts of the Bible. But since he brought his own theology with him to the text, the theological reflections did not derive from Kings, but were his theology as illustrated by Kings. There was little about how Kings was unique in the Bible or how it contributed unique factors to theology. Leithart was not seeking to prove his theology; he was simply expressing his theology using Kings as a portal.[8]

This is also the case with Pelikan’s commentary on Acts. The main criticism made against this work is that the theology is unrelated to the text. Joel Green, who is a friend to TIS (he is the editor of The Journal of Theological Interpretation), says that Pelikan’s commentary continues the divide between theology and biblical studies by ignoring the biblical text when he discusses theology. “[T]he majority of the theological and/or doctrinal issues he addresses are only loosely associated with the Lukan narrative—which, then, is often little more than a jumping-off point for Pelikan to address theological topics.”[9] Steven Koskie phrases his thoughts in a similar way: “Another way of making the point is to ask whether Acts was really necessary for Pelikan to write his book; and of course the answer is no.”[10] Even though Pelikan discusses theology, he misses many important theological topics along the way, such as missions in Acts 1:8 and speaking in tongues in Acts 2.[11]

Hauerwas on Matthew has the same issue. While Hauerwas clearly knows about the historical background of Matthew, it seems to get removed from the discussion. “Matthew’s distinctive voice is inevitably diluted in favor of a wider New Testament voice and beyond that a mainstream Christian voice.”[12] While Matthew is a good place to work for the particular theology of Hauerwas, John Nolland notes how he forces the text as times to fit his own views.

The poor you will always have with you” (Matt 26:11) is uncomfortable for Hauerwas, at least what Christians often do with it is, so he spends some time on this text. He tells us that ‘the poor that we will always have with us is Jesus. It is to the poor that all extravagance is to be given’ (215). Not all will be convinced that Hauerwas’s priorities are the natural priorities of Matthew.[13]

Levering's Ezra & Nehemiah and Leithart's 1 & 2 Kings include more textual detail than the other volumes published, but even in these volumes word associations and strained comparisons quickly lead the authors away from the text. For example, the reading of the Torah at the Water Gate in Nehemiah 8 leads Levering to connect it to the flowing water of Ezekiel 47 and to Jesus as the living water.[14]

In conclusion, there is much that is good in these commentaries, and I plan on referring to them in the future, particularly when I preach on a book. But they remain fundamentally problematic and annoying for me. The imposition of a wide swath of theological perspectives and the very small amount of attention given to the text do not help me appreciate them. I am interested in seeing how I will respond to the upcoming volumes from scholars who are closer to me theologically. A final thought: I think that if these books were not called commentaries, I would have been much happier with them. Only if we fundamentally change the definition of “commentary” do these qualify.

Two Horizons Commentary on the Bible

The other new major TIS series is “The Two Horizons Series” (THS) of which six volumes have been published so far.[15] In contrast to BTCB, THS stays closer to the traditional idea of a commentary. The authors in this series are primarily biblical scholars, not theologians, although a few of the upcoming volumes are assigned to be written by a biblical scholar and a theologian working together. In a preparatory essay, Max Turner and Joel Green say that the commentaries would be divided into thirds: the first section is introduction and theological exegesis, the second section is key theological themes of the book and how they relate to broader biblical theology, and the third section presents the relevance of the theological themes for us today.[16] In practice, a slightly different format has been developed by the commentary authors. Each commentary is divided into two sections: exegesis and theology. The latter section is then subdivided into three more sections: theological themes of the book, the book in broader biblical theology and the book as relevant for us today or as constructive theology. For the commentaries published to this point, the average number of pages for each section is 180 for exegesis and 45 for each of the three theological sections.[17] This format keeps the distinction between exegesis and theology, which causes concern for some other TIS advocates.[18] The series seeks to differentiate itself from other commentaries which look similar, such as the “New International Version Application Commentaries,” by entering into dialogue with theology rather than going directly to application.[19]

The exegesis section of the series is usually a basic synchronic literary study of the text; little theological consideration enters at this point. The first theological section is my favorite part of the books, as the authors present the theological themes of the books, such as a theology of suffering in 1 Peter[20] or the theology of the land in Genesis.[21] The second section varies dramatically from commentary to commentary; for example, McKeown simply shows how Genesis is used in the rest of the Bible, Reese looks at judgment in the rest of the canon,[22] and Grogan uses this section to show how Psalms contributes to biblical theology.[23] The third section is used for a variety of issues: Thompson includes dualism, freedom, and how we read Scripture,[24] Green speaks of theological hermeneutics, anthropology and salvation, and politics and society,[25] and McKeown examines science, mission, ecology, and feminist approaches.[26]

I have highly enjoyed the commentaries published to this point. In particular, the theological reflections are very helpful, although the exegetical sections are simply too short to be of much help. Other commentaries will need to be read alongside these for exegetical detail. But these commentaries shine in showing how each book presents theology and how it contributes to a biblical theology. Indeed, these books essentially follow the intermediate view of biblical theology (see below): each book can present their own distinct theology, which can then be synthesized into a pan-Biblical theology. I think that the primary target audience for these commentaries should be pastors, who will find them of great use in knowing how to validly and practically preach theologically from the Bible. However, scholars will find the theology sections of the commentaries refreshing and the interested lay person could profitably use the commentaries as a one book survey of each biblical book. The commentaries are short enough they could even be used as devotional material.

An Idea

After seeing the beginnings of the TIS commentaries, I have begun to wonder whether a TIS commentary is an oxymoron. No matter how the commentaries are written, someone in TIS will not be happy with the result: the divide between theology and biblical studies is perpetuated either by means of ignoring the text (Brazos) or consciously moving from exegesis to theology (Two Horizons).

I think that a better way to actually do TIS would be through sermons, particularly weekly sermons in a community over the course of a period of time where the community personally knows each other. [27] This would reflect many important TIS aspects, such as the importance of the community, the church, and the second horizon. The community would know the background and the theology of the preacher. But, needless to say, this does not publish well! One could conceivably simply print TIS sermons, but the more TIS the sermon is the more specific it is and the less relevant it will be for people outside that community.