To put some Scriptural verse “in context” is widely accepted to mean that one should try and locate the words in their original historical settings. Recently, a short piece published at Precipice (“Context Will Set You Free to Be Set Free”) made this very argument. In arguing that “context is King,” the author says that attempting to get to “the bottom” of the “historical context” in which Jesus lived
really is essential if we’re to take seriously the idea that Jesus is someone we know and understand. The less we really understand the history the more likely we are to read our anachronistic leanings into ancient sayings and events.
To be clear, I’m not claiming that trying to understand the context in which Jesus lived is incorrect or somehow misguided. On the contrary, I think that any good student of Jesus would attempt to understand the historical contexts surrounding Jesus and the Scriptures.
The meat of the point that I wish to make is this: to frame “context” as only or even primarily historical in nature has a powerful blinding effect on the reader/writer/follower of Jesus. Even more important than historical context is present context.
My argument is straightforward. On logical and empirical grounds, whatever present contexts we find ourselves in are more significant for understanding our relationship with Jesus and the kingdom of heaven than are the historical contexts in which the words were originally spoken.
As you catch your breath, let me explain. First, as is clear, we can see diverse followers of Jesus living out their interpretations of faith in present contexts. We love our neighbors and God generously or selfishly in the present, not in some obscure historical context. Second, logically speaking, no matter how mightily we strive to locate the Scriptures in their original historical contexts, we are always already in the present context looking backward. The present is logically inescapable. For these two reasons, I believe that our present contexts, whatever they may be, are more significant than historical contexts when it comes to genuinely understanding and living in the way of Jesus.
It’s like we forget that the kingdom of heaven is at hand, which means possibly incarnate in the present context, and not some purified gem nestled in the past. Our relationship with our neighbor and with God are right here in the present. They are “found every time an offense is forgiven, every time a stranger is made welcome, every time an enemy is embraced, every time the least among us is lifted up, every time the law is made to serve justice, every time a prophetic voice is raised against injustice every time the law and the prophets are summed up by love” (John D. Caputo, What Would Jesus Deconstruct?, 138).
So, in short, context is king, but not necessarily the way conventional wisdom leads us to understand. In our fervor to get to “the bottom” of the various contexts, we too often dismiss the mundane, yet painfully obvious present in which we live, love, suffer, sin and hope in God‘s name.
Re: Which “Context is King”?
What a refreshingly different comment. It’s also hitting the button on some very contemporary interpretive issues - in a very down to earth way - concerning what creates meaning in texts. Good for John Caputo, whose deconstructive genius may be lurking behind this issue.
Does meaning arise from authors, the texts themselves, or readers? Do authors “die” in the process of writing texts? Do texts write authors, rather than vice-versa? Are texts autonomous, and to be considered entirely according to the terms that they themselves dictate, without recourse to the intentions of authors - who may or may not have had any truly accurate idea of what they were producing? Does language predetermine the meaning of texts, even before an author has started to think the thoughts he intends to commit to paper (papyrus, slate, screen or whatever).
Or do contexts create meanings? Are we able to perceive meaning in texts independent of all the presuppositions we bring to it, which may come from our communities, cultures, and societies, dictating the meanings that we delude ourselves into thinking we are uniquely and independently creating.
In these kinds of arenas, the questions which are obsessing the literary world spill over into theology, which depends on the interpretation of texts. But we need to provide some answers - even if they are only provisional, and hinting at methodologies which may offer some integrity to the kind of answers we provide.
Maybe part of the answer is that getting an understanding of the contextual issues provides a (one) foundation for the exploration of a text’s meaning. But it would have to be said that in faith communities, it would be laughed out of court to suggest that a biblical text’s meaning can only be discovered through detailed academic research into its historic background and origins. Historically, attempts to go down this path have led to some very dubious results.
Anyway, it has to be helpful that we have some idea of the genre of a text - be it poetry, history, prophecy, law, narrative, wisdom literature, apocalyptic, etc, which might prevent us from getting too wildly wide of the mark and subjective in our interpretation of meaning. It also has to be helpful that we have some idea of the issues concerning a text’s origins, where it is possible to deduce them. (This isn’t always possible!).
In some ways, I have a feeling that some texts, the gospels in particular, are arranged and written (guided by whom? Apostolic authors? Tradition? The convictions of the faith community? The Holy Spirit working through all three?) in order to highlight their relevance for ages and contexts beyond the immediate temporal context. But that’s a discussion question. I’m just appreciating the fact that you have raised the issue, and throw in one or two considerations into the mix.
If it’s any help, I find the nuanced proposals of Stephen Fowl more helpful than the more dogmatic simplicities of Kevin Vanhoozer. Or E.D. Hirsch. And I certainly don’t go as far as D. Nineham. And definitely not as far as Rorty and Fish, in the reader-response direction. But where will all this furious name-dropping get me?