ReadOTb
​
6. Language and culture. Hebrew is part of the Semitic family of languages and of the West Semitic family in particular, including Canaanite. As language is a subset of culture, this would include symbols, storylines, and traditions.
7. Tradition, reinterpretation, and revelation. Much of the Hebrew Bible, especially its earliest literature, reinterprets Semitic traditions. And later portions of the Bible reinterpret earlier biblical traditions (see above). In the NT, the OT is often applied typologically to Jesus and the church. In this light, revelation lies in the reinterpretation of the tradition, and not necessarily in the tradition itself.
8. As these communications occur within particular contexts/occasions, we are presented with individual case studies of how God interacts with his people amidst changing social, historical, and personal dynamics. As a library of case studies, the Bible presents us with many canonical conversations that reflect a variety of perspectives.
9. In light of “progressive revelation,” some of these canonical conversations can be mapped along developing trajectories. At certain pivotal moments in Israel’s history and social life, there are emerge paradigm shifts, wherein the identity of God or the people of God may shift dramatically.
10. Within the processes noted above, the Bible consists of human testimony and “incarnational” inspiration, whereby God works principally within the human authors and community, and not from without. In this model Israel’s theology is simultaneously revealed by God and discovered by humans. From the snapshots of human perspectives we can begin to view God’s panoramic perspective.
11. The Bible is simply one element of God’s communication with his people. As the Bible consists of literature, we may discern God’s will by interpreting it within the church community (including past traditions and present interpreters), illumined by the Holy Spirit and discerned by reason, which is informed by interpretation of the natural and social world (God’s creation) and by experience (Deut 30:14; John 7:17).
​
​
“The Medium is the Message”: The Genres of Revelation
​
As literature, the contents of the OT are packaged in literary forms or genres, most notably narrative and poetry (not theological discourse).
The Old Testament is not theological discourse. It consists primarily of narrative and poetry. Instead of abstract concepts and ideas, we read of tangible people and events. Instead of universal principles, we are presented with specific examples. God is not described as an object study, rather he is a subject in stories and songs. God is not defined; he is characterized. Theology speaks in terms of nouns and adjectives; narrative speaks in verbs.
So, for example, in a key passage where Yahweh reveals his personal name and his plans for the exodus (Exod 6:1-8) we read, “the Lord said …, ‘I will do ….’ God spoke further … and said …, ‘I appeared … but … I did not make myself known …. I also established …. I have heard … and I have remembered …. I will bring you out …, and I will deliver you …. I will also redeem …. I will take … I … brought you out … I will bring …, I swore …, and I will give ….”
These differences are not minor, having only to do with the means of revelation. Concepts and adjectives tend to be static and predictable; stories and verbs are dynamic and surprising. These differences also entail strikingly different responses. In our theological systems God, humans, and the world are defined, and so we explain life accordingly and expect life—and God himself—to conform to these propositions and doctrines. Stories and poems, however, (as their plurality implies) present us with a variety of possibilities for divine behavior. God is not constrained to conform to a certain definition; he is free to follow any number of previous patterns and even to choose a new one. God may act in any number of ways, but he must not act in any single way. Narrative theology allows for the freedom of God. Stories and poems also present us with a variety of lenses through which we can interpret our experience and God himself. (This is not to suggest, however, that the Old Testament opens us to a shopping mall of theologies we may choose according to our own convenience.)
Are my escalating tragedies to be explained along the lines of Judah’s judgment in exile or of Job’s innocent suffering or of the psalmist’s lament of “why”?
Do I find myself in this oppressive relationship simply because of social reasons (as the Hebrews’ enslavement to Egypt is described in Exodus 1) or because I have rebelled against God?
Instead of detached, dispassionate objectivity, we are to become enmeshed in the drama. As we identify with the characters of the story, we become participants and not mere onlookers. And so in our present life with God, we do not merely theorize (an occupational hazard of academics); we consider our next step.
​
Another consequence of God’s revealing himself through stories, rather than through universal principles, is that theological truth is always “embedded.” We are not meant to separate the kernel, the timeless truth, from the husk, the historically conditioned people and events. The whole point to the medium of narrative is that God illustrates how he may speak and perform within particular cultures and with particular people and events. While the theological approach of abstracting timeless truth from Scripture has certainly been endorsed throughout church history (which largely began within a Greek/Hellenistic culture, not a Hebrew/Semitic mindset), these observations show its relative value and subordinate place to Scripture. In our quest for understanding God we must always return to the literature of the Bible itself to hear “the word of God.”
​
Instead of simply presenting the ideals of what we should believe, the Bible presents ideals and realities, which may or may not be endorsed by their Narrator. This provides greater allowance for complexity, cross-purposes, and ambiguity. In other words, narrative theology makes interpretation more difficult, but also more in keeping with the real world in which we the readers are the players. Instead of a homogenized point of view, we have canonized points of view. Instead of the message being transcultural, it is now culturally contingent, and these ancient, Semitic cultures are certainly foreign to Western readers.
Theological discourse is also markedly different from poetry, which complements narrative by introducing a whole new set of possibilities. Theology uses literal language and concepts; poetry uses figurative language and imagery. Theology engages our logic; and poetry engages our imagination. Theology strives for unambiguous precision, while poetry strives for beauty, even at the expense of ambiguity. Theology emphasizes the cerebral, poetry the emotive. One may be encapsulated in a creed, the other in song. One promotes orthodoxy, and the other worship. Both have their part to play in the life and growth church, but if spirituality is to thrive, theology must not stifle poetry. Life is both cognitive and affective.
Poetry favors figurative language and appeals to the imagination and emotions, even at the expense of precision.
This entails a whole new way of thinking for most Christians. We should relate our experience not merely to our theology or theological system but to the Bible and its manifold revelation.