Abstract
Dale B. Martin,
Biblical Truths: The Meaning of Scripture in the Twenty-first Century
(New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2017); 408 pp.: 9780300222838, $40 (hbk)
In his recent book, Dale Martin, Woolsey Professor of Religious Studies at Yale, offers an apologetic for a nonfoundational reading of Scripture. He begins his argument with a demonstration of the inadequacy of the historical-critical model by critiquing two of its more influential exponents (one each at either end of the theological spectrum): Rudolf Bultmann and George Eldon Ladd. He concludes that: as long as Christian scholars insist that they are simply ‘describing’ the theology that is really ‘in’ the text itself, and that they arrive at their conclusions using historical criticism, and as long as the ‘meaning’ they claim to ‘find’ in the text is supposed to be what the ancient author ‘intended’ or the ancient audience would have understood, they cannot produce robust, sufficient, orthodox Christian theology. (p. 28)
Martin admits that he is offering his own theology (p. 32), and, as a personal theological statement in the ‘escape from fundamentalism’ genre, this book has much to commend it. It is refreshingly personal as Martin shares aspects of his life and faith experience. It is candid and reads as being generally free from bitterness (though not fully – see, for example, pp. 55–6, where his comments on the Roman Catholic hierarchy are unkind and contribute nothing to the argument). It engages with biblical texts, early and contemporary theology, and liturgy as it explores its stated themes and so provides rich fodder for reflection.
Understanding the provisional nature of all theology, Martin admits that his own work is ‘certainly’ provisional (p. 37). Tellingly, he also notes that his theology is orthodox ‘at least for the most part’ (p. 36). This understatement is somewhat disingenuous. Martin identifies his orthodoxy as being defined by, among other things, ‘the great ecumenical creeds, such as the Nicene Creed, the Creed of St Athanasius (Quicunque Vult), and the Apostles Creed’ (p. 36). However, in discussing our future hope, Martin states that we humans ‘are made to die’ and that we ‘rest in God’s being in some way after that’ (pp. 276–7). On the basis that one can be open to an idea of the afterlife without any particular notion of what it might be like, he asserts that the most important function of the doctrine of the resurrection of the body is how it imparts value to the body and thus to our physicality in this life (pp. 306–7). Therefore, he moves away from what he knows and argues is the Pauline doctrine of physical resurrection (pp. 304–5) in favour of asserting that in death we become one with God (p. 308). Here, Martin seems to put himself at odds with the theological orthodoxy he claims to expound and explore. The Nicene Creed affirms the resurrection of the dead. The Apostles’ Creed affirms the resurrection of the body. The Athanasian Creed asserts that at Jesus’ coming all people shall rise again in their own bodies and shall give an account of their actions, and those who have done good shall go into everlasting life and those who have done evil shall go into everlasting fire. Given that his ideas on the afterlife do not accord with those of Jesus, Paul or the ecumenical creeds, it would have been more honest for Martin to note that, at least on the doctrine of the afterlife, his theology was not orthodox at all.
The problem becomes even sharper in Martin’s comments on hell – a subject that comes up a few times in this work. He admits to not believing in hell (despite wishing that there were one for the likes of Hitler and Stalin [p. 299]) and urges that we ‘move away from connecting God to torture and hell and imagine God rather as the saviour’ (p. 299). The text he appeals to for illustrating this theological move is the Book of Common Prayer (p. 299). However, he fails to inform the reader that the BCP is precisely the place in the Church of England’s liturgy to which you would turn to find the authorized version of the Athanasian Creed, which asserts not only that sinners will go into everlasting fire but also that ‘this is the Catholick Faith: which except a man believe faithfully, he cannot be saved’. The same Book of Common Prayer makes no provision for a Christian funeral service (or the hope it looks forward to) for any who die unbaptized or excommunicate, and in its liturgy from the Holy Communion to the Commination exhorts people to repentance to avert the judgement of God. Martin may find theological authority for his views in his Anglican tradition and its liturgy, and in the ecumenical creeds, but he clearly does not do so by accepting them as authoritative in all their statements. He picks and chooses which parts of them he believes and recommends others believe, which all begs the question: where does theological authority lie? Given the general thrust of nonfoundationalism in reading Scripture, it seems that the theological authority for accepting and rejecting aspects of Christian tradition lies in the reader.
This brings us to a methodological difficulty that lies at the heart of Martin’s nonfoundationalism. He frequently disallows other (particularly conservative) readings of Scripture, labelling them ‘bad theology’. The basis on which he does this is his own nonfoundationalist reading of Scripture. An example would be his discussion of the kingship of God. Suggesting that ‘thinking of God as a male, superior, all-powerful, and arbitrary monarch is precisely what has driven many people away from Christianity’ (p. 117), he tries to subvert the authoritative universal monarch image of God with the humble king Jesus entering Jerusalem on a donkey, arguing that ‘critiques of “kingship” as a model of God’s nature can be found even in the New Testament’ (p. 117). However, in this reading Martin fails to note either that the humble king who enters on a donkey in Zech. 9.9 comes as the ruler of all the earth (Zech. 9.10) or that, after Jesus enters Jerusalem, he ascends into heaven and sits at the right hand of the Father until his kingdom extends throughout the earth (see, for example, Acts 2.32–36). Given his failure to pay proper attention to the Old Testament background or wider New Testament narrative of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, it would be reasonable to reject Martin’s reading. Why should another reader deconstruct their monarchical images of God on the basis of a nonfoundational reading that lacks foundation in the text? Such readers could be forgiven for staying loyal to historical criticism (for all its weaknesses) as it at least offers some kind of objective framework for deciding between stronger and weaker readings.
Underneath the whole nonfoundational project lies a methodological hypocrisy. Martin criticizes historical criticism for disempowering Christians by denying them the authority to interpret Scripture without learning its method (p. 5). However, he does not accept all readings of Scripture. As we have noted, he frequently disallows other (particularly conservative) readings. In practice, Martin uses the results of his own and others’ historical-critical readings of Scripture in justifying his own readings. Therefore, to engage with his readings, Christians need to learn the canons and practice of historical criticism. In order to assess the way in which he uses them (employing his ‘nonfoundationalist, postmodern, Marxist, orthodox, ecumenical’ hermeneutic), they need a handle on the hermeneutical debates within which Martin works. In reality, the vast majority of Christians will be even more disempowered by his method than they were by more straightforward historical-critical readings. Given Martin’s stated commitment to aspects of Marxism (pp. 34–5), this seems more than a touch ironic.
For these reasons, Martin’s nonfoundationalism is unlikely to prove very helpful within his own part of the worldwide Church, namely the Anglican Communion. Given the commitment of this Communion to the sharing of episcope (including the responsibility for guarding doctrine and teaching the faith) with all believers (for example, the Virginia Report), Martin’s practice of his nonfoundationalism does not seem very theologically useful for the Church (or at least for large sectors of it), as those it disempowers have already been empowered to share the interpretation of Scripture by the bishops. Given the events of Brexit and the most recent presidential election in the United States of America, one might hope that theologians such as Martin would learn from the mistakes of political elites, and that they would read Scripture listening to the voices of all believers – even when these theologians find some of those believers’ conservatism unpalatable – and that we might all listen to Scripture and the creeds together.