Symposium: Whose Community? Which Interpretation? - Chapters 5 and 6

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. 

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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 reflection. 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.

Comments

[Josh Rowley]

Thanks for this reading, Andrew.

I am hearing you say that according to postmodern hermeneutics (1) both the author of a text and the reader of a text produce meaning, (2) a text can sustain multiple interpretations (some of which might not have been intended by the author), and (3) tradition provides an interpretive imagination, but also interpretive boundaries beyond which interpreters strain to think.

Please confirm or correct.

[Andrew Talbert]

I am hesitant to respond only because I anticipate a surge of critique in response to a carelessly posted sentence/comment, but that's all something we accept by willingly contributing to the symposium. Besides, I can simply refuse to turn on my computer or answer e-mails should the situation escalate, right?

In all seriousness, though, thank you for your comment. Your first two points I would affirm, and then add that Ricoeur and Gadamer carry these points forward in ways fruitful for biblical hermeneutics, as Westphal indicates. I am hesitant to label either of these hermeneuts, especially Gadamer, as purely "postmodern" (see Raschke's distinction of Gadamerian hermeneutics and postmodern thought in the first contribution to the symposium). For this reason, I would classify your final point under Gadamerian hermeneutics, as tradition(s) feature in his thought and Westphal first addresses tradition in relation to Gadamer.

In regards to your final point, I might clarify two things. First, "tradition(s)" is not limited to our denominational/religious affiliations. Traditions, in the Gadamerian sense, include all of the elements of our society that condition us into the people we become, which includes Christian traditions. I am shaped by the traditions of materialism, white-suburbia (whatever that means), empiricism, presbyterianism, nationalism, rationalism, etc. Now, these traditions combined provide the epistemological framework with which I approach the biblical text. They establish boundaries that limit my interpretive and comprehenive horizons. To a certain degree, I am able to critically reflect on these traditions- in essence, putting myself outside the tradition- particularly when I discover a biblical text to confront one of these traditions. Some traditions are easier to reflectively examine than others, depending on how deeply they are engrained or whether an event somehow exposes them to us.

All of this is to say that I agree with your final point, but the task of the interpreter includes "straining" beyond the boundaries of their tradition to consider its consistency with Scripture. This process can aid in learning to read "against the grain," rather than in a way that simply affirms everything that we do.

In a concluding thought, I might add that I am not defining postmodern hermeneutics so much as I am describing Westphal's treatment of this concept. My aim was to provide a concise picture of two chapters from this work, with the occasional personal interjection in the hope of illumination. My agreement with this text lies primarily in Westphal's presentation of complex issues and the potential of Gadamer's thought as a way forward for interpretation in the Church. I hope that I have described Westphal's views appropriately, but if I have misrepresented Westphal, then clearly the fault is mine.

[George]

wouldn't it be safe to say that, even at times, traditional statements and interpretations aren't necessarily the correct ones??

I like this.
Eric, was wondering if we find a way to partner. Would love to see if we can pass articles back and forth, you can write on mine and back and forth. feel free to check out mine, i seek to make postmodernism accessible as you do. Looking forward to hearing back!

[Josh Rowley]

Thanks for responding to my comment, Andrew. Yes, I understand that you are reviewing Westphal's work and not necessarily sharing your own views on postmodern hermeneutics. Having not read Westphal's book, I have no reason to think your review is anything but accurate.

It seems that Gadamer's understanding of how traditions work reinforces the basic insight that all knowledge is perspectival (meaning that all interpreters bring something to the text that influences the meaning they produce). It also seems that this understanding of traditions is similar to Charles Taylor's concept of "social imaginaries," which he defines as the horizon beyond which a group is unlikely to think; a social imaginary is both resource and boundary.

I understand that part of Scripture's value is to make us more aware of how our traditions influence us. This idea raises at least two questions, however: (1) Given that our traditions influence how we read and understand Scripture, can we ever be confident that we will see when they are inconsistent with Scripture? and (2) Is Scripture not a tradition--or, perhaps more accurately, a collection of traditions?

[Andrew Talbert]

In response to your question, George, this is precisely part of Gadamer's aim. Not all traditions or interpretations are correct, which is why we aim to critically evaluate them. For instance, the Chalcedonian view of Christ held by the Church generally and the understanding of Christ in the Jehovah's Witnesses are mutually exclusive. One cannot hold them to be both correct. The same follows with Arminianism and Calvinism (though there is something of a middle ground in Molinism). At different times, "traditional" views will crumble, reshape, or be reinforced under scrutiny. We also have to be careful not to equate "tradition" in Gadamer exclusively with denominational/religious affiliation. His conception of tradition is much broader and encompassing than that. As an example frm the text, Westphal describes a person whose interpretation is shaped by racism.

I hope you appreciated how much I distanced myself from my own answer, Josh. You raise excellent points in these new questions. Jauss addresses the first question by dictating the necessity of exploring the initial horizon of reception (something along the lines of historical-critical research), thereby aiming to discover the original "question" to which the text was an "answer." This process of exploring the original horizon aids in "reading against the grain" of our stultified reading traditions, and can pose questions to intrepretive decisions made within our own horizon. Horizons can potentially merge, but may require morphing or abandonment of traditional views. At the same time, this does not restrict interpretation to the thoughts of the original audience, but also allows new generations to pose new questions to the text.

In regards to our "confidence" of seeing the inconsitency of our traditions with Scripture, I would confidently assert... "sometimes." It may be helpful, particularly in our theology, to be confident of our "fallenness," to borrow a phrase from Westphal. This much can at least aid in producing a humility that enables us to legitimately engage with the interpretive traditions of others. If it's confidence that we seek, I think that studying, digesting, and meditating on Scripture is a good place to begin.

This last point leads to your second question. Yes, Scripture is a tradition, or at least a means of communicating a tradition. Perhaps I am Barthian at this point in that I believe we need to start somewhere, so I take Scripture as "Word of God," and therefore foundational. This is part of the reason why I was curious about Westphal's view of inspiration.

[Josh Rowley]

Thanks for your generous reply, Andrew.

Increasingly, I find myself thinking that the chief benefit of postmodern hermeneutics is the fostering of epistemic humility. One possible missiological implication of this humility is an engagement of the world as co-learners who walk alongside non-Christians. Our neighbors might appreciate such an approach.

I have no difficulty calling Scripture "God's word." I am aware, though, that I only have access to an interpretation of this word, as my mind begins to interpret it as soon as I start reading or hearing it. So, I believe objective knowledge or truth exists, but I am a non-foundationalist in that I don't believe I can possess this knowledge.

[george]

Josh. Well said. Especially about objective truth being present but unobtainable. i think this is the benefit of postmodernism, it opens the field upon which we can dialogue about these things.

thinks andrew, that does help. do you think as subjective beings we can clearly separate ourselves from any sort of view?

feel free to email me, would love to partner:
theloverevolution.org.uk
thejourneyalive@gmail.com