I only post this because post-modernism and in particular the aesthetic philosophy (only a part of a larger work) of Hans Georg Gadamer helped me re-embrace Renewalist (pentecostal, Mystical, charismatic, spirit-filled) christianity with gusto as an undergrad. Albeit that was not the point of the text (making the point of the death of the author and power of the creative in the 3rd place between author and reader or artist and audience. True creativity is what is made in the moment when art and people come together and the artist releases control of the art for it to bring us into a transcendent experience.

Good worship and art does this – moves beyond the plan and all are brought into a new reality being made in that moment – this is the essence of pentecostal and Eastern Orthodox worship liturgies.

Symposium: Whose Community? Which Interpretation? – Chapters 5 and 6
from the church and postmodern culture: conversation by Eric Lee

The third engagement with Merold Westphal’s Whose Community? Which Interpretation? Philosophical Hermeneutics for the Church comes from Andrew Talbert (part 1, part 2). Andrew Talbert is a recent graduate from Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, who has since relocated with his wife, Bethany, to the UK in order to pursue a PhD under Anthony Thiselton at University of Nottingham. His research involves the reception history of 2 Thessalonians and theological hermeneutics, with particular interest in the differences between pre-critical and critical biblical interpretation, as well as current trends of biblical interpretation in the Church.

Despite his borderline obsession with yurt-dominating dromedaries, Merold Westphal has put together an excellent text in Whose Community? Which Interpretation? both in terms of its concise presentation of hermeneutics and postmodern thought, and in its accessibility. There are few texts in the modern languages, translated or otherwise, more difficult to simply read, let alone comprehend, than those of Derrida, Ricoeur, Gadamer, and company. One could certainly argue that a primary reason many Christians of the conservative Evangelical persuasion (I include myself in this camp) have not personally engaged with these philosophers is due to the degree of complexity that characterizes their work. This is not to say that Evangelicals are unintelligent by any means, but to emphasize the often abstruse vernacular and reasoning of these philosophers. Westphal has done well to concentrate the principles of these thinkers into intelligible and palatable sections, thereby providing a beginning to the Gordian knot of philosophical hermeneutics and inviting Christian readers to untangle it with him.

Having worked through the objectivist hermeneutics of Hirsch, the speech-act theory of Wolterstorff, and having described the relativity of any reader in relation to the absolute character of God in the first four chapters of his work, Westphal turns to the trio essentially equated with postmodernity: Barthes, Foucault, and Derrida.

There are few phrases more monotonous than “all truth is relative in postmodern thought,” which frequently serves as the smoking-gun to end discussion about the potential benefit of this philosophical approach. Using these primary thinkers in chapter five, Westphal carefully articulates how they understand the cultural relativity of humanity, particularly in the case of the author and the reader. He puts forth the concept that the death of the “absolute” author has taken place in postmodern thought- “absolute” in the sense that the author is the unilateral producer of meaning in the same sense as God is the producer/Creator of the world. This does not mean that the author’s intent has no bearing on textual meaning, but that he/she no longer exerts divine control over the meaning of their text. Instead, these philosophers contend that meaning is produced in the dialogue of author, work, and reader. The author writes and intends within a particular contextual framework, and the reader, likewise, receives and interprets within a particular contextual framework. This accounts for why there are so many diverse Christian traditions at present. Part of the postmodern approach aims to move away from the psychologism of earlier hermeneutical models that focuses on the author, for, as Westphal notes, our concern in reading is generally less about “Who wrote this?” than it is “What is this text saying?” Put differently, in the phrase “someone saying something about something to someone,” Paul Ricoeur devotes his attention primarily to the “something about something.”

Due to his position as a Christian, Ricoeur represents something of an exception to these other philosophers. Though clearly shaped by postmodern proclivities, his interest veers toward Scripture and the promises and commands contained therein. These promises and commands stand true for Christians presently, providing “a world in which we might live, a world of biblical faith.” This provides a realistic approach to biblical faith. It is neither a teaching that requires us to become first century Palestinians in order to come to terms with the New Testament writings, nor instruction that remains theologically abstract. In both of these examples, one is able to distance themselves from the claims that Scripture makes on the believer. It is more difficult to do so in Ricoeur’s conception.

Along these lines, Westphal continues to promote the mantra that the aim of interpretation is not merely reproduction, but also production- a mindset shared by Ricoeur and Gadamer. This means that the interpreter strives both to rightly perceive the intent of the author, but also allows for the creative thought of the addressee that stems from their contextual conditioning. It is important to note, however, that Ricoeur and his compatriots insist that this interpretation must be sustained by the text and carefully scrutinized by the interpreter. An example may help illuminate this point: when I read the book of James, I find it encourages godly living as demonstrative of the faith I profess. When a friend of mine, at the time a non-Christian, read the same text he was so deeply convicted of his depravity that he eventually converted to the Christian faith. Now the question we must ask is whether the author intended both of these meanings for the same text? If not, can this text sustain both interpretations?

Carrying this conversation forward in chapter six, Westphal comes upon the primary hermeneut with whom he means to engage: Hans Georg Gadamer. Having progressed through the other philosophers, their connection with Gadamer is evident. His thought flows out of these ruminating concepts of author, interpreter, and relativity. Gadamer’s interests lie primarily in understanding how one interprets, rather than providing a method for interpretation. For Gadamer, tradition(s) stands as the primary effective agent for the interpreter. It provides both a framework for interpretation and limits within which the interpretation can manifest. We may reflect upon these shaping traditions, though never fully stand outside of them. They set our interpretive horizons, which can expand as they come into contact with other interpretive horizons, but, as Gadamer beautifully asserts, this expansion is always “unfinished business.” At this point, it would be interesting to see how Westphal would engage with a theologian like Angus Paddison, who has carried Gadamer’s position forward in somewhat of an extreme manner, though I suppose that is not the aim of this series.

As the chapter draws to a close, Westphal is quick to emphasize, with Gadamer, that traditions are not negative. They provide an epistemological framework without bestowing an omniscient, “God’s-eye view of revelation.” Traditions enable us to understand with “grounded opacity,” but they give us ground, nonetheless. As reflective, critical (in a good sense) Christians, we have the responsibility to engage with our traditions, both in a broad cultural sense and in a more specific, perhaps denominational, sense. The aim of this is not to overturn and demolish our traditions, especially because we will find that many traditions will remain intact, but to “be transformed by the renewing of [our] minds” (Rom 12:2), which is all part of the process of sanctification.

As I have contemplated my contribution to this symposium, I considered entering into the circular argument of relativity and subjectivity typical of discussions on postmodernity, Ricoeur, and Gadamer, but found this of little worth. Multiple interpretations and traditions exist. We have the responsibility of measuring their worth at least by their capacity to be sustained by the biblical witness. Who knows- this may produce fruitful trans-denominational dialogue. At the very minimum, it provides a point of entry for any Christian into the discussion of biblical interpretation with the potential of beneficial, self- and communal-critical refelction. The only other points of interest I might like to see Westphal explicate are his understandings of Canon and inspiration.

By this point it should be evident that I have chosen not to critique (in a negative sense) Westphal’s work. Perhaps my ready agreement with the text stems from an appreciation of its presentation in a way that is accessible to those outside the scholarly guild. Perhaps I appreciate it because I am glad to see someone cut through the complexity of many issues, remembering that it once took me half a day to read eight pages of H.R. Jauss (Gadamer’s student; that’s a difficult accomplishment to explain to one’s wife). Perhaps I have little reservation because the UK postal strike limited the time that I had to appropriate and digest the text (maybe I will attach an addendum after a closer read). As a whole, I believe that this is a fine work that presents a hermeneutical approach essential to the Church in a manner that I commend.