Chapter 10

Using Perspectives

Next, let us examine whether differences in disciplinary frameworks must always lead to a competition between different schools and the eventual triumph of one school. Can we sometimes incorporate insights from different points of view into a richer whole?

36. Dealing with differing points of view

Recall first that, according to Kuhn, sciences begin their history in a preparadigm stage or immature stage. In this situation a number of schools compete for dominance, and no one particular way of formulating the problems or of moving towards solutions is so superior to its rivals that it effectively drives them from the field.

Kuhn does not think that this stage can be eliminated. One cannot simply choose one school and ignore the others, because one does not know which school will produce the most effective advance in science in the long run. The immature stage comes to an end only when a superior theory or exemplar arises within one school, or by combining features from several schools. One cannot hasten this process. One cannot simply decree that a superior theory will arise now rather than later.

One might liken biblical interpretation to an immature science. In systematic theology, even if some theological system is dominant for a time, it does not permanently banish its rivals. One can see this in the history of millennial theories. One can even see it in the history of Christological controversies. In a sense the Nicene Creed and the Chalcedonian Creed set forth exemplars which obtain dominance and form the basis for subsequent reflection. So one might argue that these creeds represent turning points towards mature Christology and mature Trinitarianism.

But forms of Arianism crop up again and again through the ages, up until modern times. They are never permanently eradicated by orthodoxy. In this case, I would say that non-Arian orthodoxy is correct, but Arianism is never permanently eliminated because it appeals to sinful tendencies in human nature which would subject God to tight, over-simplified rationalistic categories. The Trinity and the incarnation are permanent offenses to such autonomous human reasoning.

The example of Arianism shows that sometimes we cannot hope to combine rival schools. To try to synthesize Trinitarian theology with Arianism is to try to combine truth and error. Of course, a revival of Arianism might conceivably arise in reaction to one-sided orthodoxy. If orthodox churchmen in emphasizing the deity of Christ lose sight of his humanity, they will eventually provoke a reaction by people who rediscover Christ's humanity. This rediscovery may overreact by eliminating Christ's deity. If we lived through such a situation, it would behoove us to take note of the problems on both sides. Sometimes the side that is in the wrong may yet be grasping at a fragment of truth ignored by the side that is basically in the right.

Such situations do indeed arise in theology. But overreaction to one-sidedness is not the only reason that they happen. Human sinfulness has its role too.

In the area of hermeneutics, similarly, we might argue that one interpretive system has never obtained absolute dominance and completely superseded all others. The historical-critical method has dominated biblical exegesis for at least a century, but it never completely eliminated inerrantist approaches and traditional Roman Catholic approaches. The Reformers championed grammatical-historical interpretation over against medieval allegorical interpretation, but allegorical interpretation never completely disappeared from the churches that derived from the Reformation.¹

37. Multiple approaches to truth

Must we say that all differences in biblical interpretation and in theology are differences between truth and error? Are they all like the difference between Arianism and Trinitarianism? Sometimes the differences are like the difference between viewing the church as the temple of God and viewing it as the body of Christ. Clearly we have to do here with complementary truths rather than opposition between truth and error. The difference here is a difference between two perspectives on the same truths.

In such a situation, each perspective is better at seeing and emphasizing certain truths of Scripture. Hence it would seem advisable to use a multiplicity of perspectives. As we have seen, this use of multiple perspectives can be valuable even when we are dealing with a passage such as 1 Cor. 3:10-15 where one analogy is textually dominant. We should first of all endeavor to determine what analogy, if any, is indeed dominant in a given passage of Scripture. But we should not hesitate to see how other biblical analogies illumine the same passage. Such a procedure may alert us to neglected features of the passage. (For example, the role of fire in 1 Cor. 3:10-15 is illuminated when we use the biblical picture of God as judge rather than confining ourselves simply to the analogy between church and temple.) Use of some other analogy will almost certainly make us more aware of connections between the passage that we are studying and the many other passages of the Bible which use the analogy that we have chosen.

We can extend these observations still further. As I have argued at length in another place,² there is value not only in using a variety of analogies, but in trying to extend the analogies, to enrich them, until they are huge theories or explanations that can cover all the facts of Scripture. We start with a single biblical analogy or motif like the temple or the judge. Then we view all of the Bible through the spectacles of this one motif. In the process, we try to enrich the motif itself so as to include, take account of, and explain things that were originally not thought to be related to it. It is as if we pretended that we were going to form our own theological school, and that this school would put forth a scientific theory of theology based on a single coherent model, the model being some form of our starting analogy or a modification or enrichment of it.

This procedure is really not so dissimilar to the way a scientific theory originates. Scientists work with suggestive analogies or models that they tinker with and modify as they go. For example, Maxwell invokes a model in reflecting on his researches leading to the famous equations of electromagnetic theory:

By referring everything to the purely geometrical idea of the motion of an imaginary fluid, I hope to attain generality and precision, and to avoid the dangers arising from a premature theory professing to explain the cause of the phenomena.... The substance here treated of ... is not even a hypothetical fluid which is introduced to explain actual phenomena. It is merely a collection of imaginary properties which may be employed for establishing certain theorems in pure mathematics in a way more intelligible to many minds and more applicable to physical problems than that in which algebraic symbols alone are used.³

Maxwell thus begins using the model of a fluid in order to suggest a series of connections between mathematical equations and the physical object (electromagnetism). The analogy suggests certain lines of development mathematically. Such development would not have been easy if one were just dealing with the results of previous investigation without any simplification or organization of them.⁴

In the case of biblical research, one may argue that there are even stronger reasons for utilizing analogies. For one thing, the analogies that we have in mind are first of all those that are presented in one form or another within the Bible itself. We know that these are good analogies, albeit of a limited character. The physical scientist, by contrast, must cast about on his own for analogies from the physical world. He has not been told directly by God which analogies will work.

One relatively successful example of just this procedure is the history of covenant theology. Covenant theology in its mature form is capable of viewing all of God's relations with human beings, and even the redemptive counsel between the Father and the Son, in terms of analogies with the concrete covenants of the Bible. At the start of the process, theologians observe that the word "covenant" (more precisely, Hebrew and Greek equivalents) is used in the Bible to draw an analogy between relations of God and human beings and treaties between human beings. This analogy is then stretched and generalized, and the word "covenant" becomes a technical term filled with all the ideas developed by comparing a large number of passages that speak about God's relation to human beings.⁵

Covenant theology works: it succeeds in integrating, explaining, and organizing into a coherent whole the vast sweep of biblical revelation. But it does so partly by enriching the idea of covenant. The word "covenant" within theological vocabulary is now related by a rich series of connotations to the entire complex of biblical revelation about the relation of God to human beings through history.

People who are used to thinking in terms of covenant theology may not think that there are really alternatives. Are there really other ways of doing it? In a sense, if covenant theology is right, there are no other alternatives. That is, no systems contradicting covenant theology can possibly be right. But a contradictory system is not the only form of alternative. There could also be alternatives in another sense, namely complementary ways of expounding the same truths. If we chose to do it another way, there would be differences of emphasis or differences in organization, but no contradiction.

For example, we could develop the whole of the theological system in terms of the theme of God's family, and the relation of God as Father to his people as children. Surely the theme of fatherhood and family is an important theme in Scripture, and surely it touches on the heart of God's purposes and his intentions as much as does covenant theology.

But the reply might be that covenant theology has already achieved this result. To talk about God's fatherly relation to his people is simply to talk about his covenant with his people, no more, no less. Both sides are talking about the same thing, no doubt. But there are still different ways of talking, and the different ways bring to the fore different aspects of biblical teaching. The idea of covenant within covenant theology has pronounced legal associations, while the idea of family suggests first of all social, emotional, and personal-contact relations. If we use only one of these types of vocabulary, we will have to be careful somewhere along the line to alert people to complementary truths. For example, if we used "covenant" to include everything, we would have to say that our word "covenant" is intended (unlike the use outside of God-man relationships) to connote all the familial ideas. Or, vice versa, if we used the idea of family as our central organizational idea, we would have to say that the idea of family is intended to include a legal side of adoption, whereby according to God's standards we who were castaways have been given the legal rights of family members.

Because covenant theology has a long history of development, it may seem more natural to view the family ideas in the Bible as a metaphorical or analogical expression of one aspect of covenant. According to this viewpoint, God's covenant is the basic underlying reality. Expressions using family ideas bring out one aspect of the covenant. But let us ask ourselves what might have been if the history of theology had been different. What if the idea of familial theology had been developed with great thoroughness? What if someone now made the bizarre suggestion that we should redo the whole of the theological enterprise using covenant (a comparatively lesser-used theme in theology) as the center point?

I anticipate that we would find some die-hard advocates of familial theology. They would resist the idea that covenant could ever have the centrality that the idea of God's family clearly had. They would say something like this:

The familial relation between God as Father and the people of God as his children is the underlying reality. This relation is nothing less than a reflection on the creaturely level of the Trinitarian relation between the Father and the Son. What could be deeper than that? Covenants in the Bible are used as analogical or metaphorical expressions for one aspect of this family relation, namely the aspect of legal privilege, fatherly requirements and obedience expected of sons. Familial theology already includes these aspects. We do not ignore the covenants. Clearly familial theology has already done the job that this new-fangled covenant theology proposes to do. Familial theology has already uncovered the real nature of the relation of God to man. The proposed covenant theology shifts things away from this center. Hence it will have a subtly incorrect emphasis. At the same time, it will achieve nothing new, since familial theology already includes an account of covenants.

Do we need to choose between covenant theology and familial theology? Is one of these superior in every respect? Or are they equivalent? It would seem that they are closer to being equivalent. Each has a natural tendency to a different emphasis (legal vs. social/personal), but there is no disharmony. A good theologian working with either of these starting points will eventually notice in Scripture all the aspects of God's relation to man.

Unfortunately, we are not all good theologians. Or, at least, we do not always find it so easy to notice everything that the Bible says. Some people sitting under the teaching of covenant theology have understood God's covenant in a merely legal, one might say legalistic way. They have missed the personal dimension of relationship to God. They have not really been affected by the fact that God is our Father. This overlooking of the personal dimension is contrary to the intentions and express teaching of the great covenant theologians. But it sometimes happens anyway. Conversely, one might imagine that if familial theology dominated history, some people would not realize that God had rules, yes laws. They would misconstrue the familial relation as lawless, in spite of the intentions of the greatest familial theologians.

Hence, I conclude, for any of us who do not always observe everything and see all the angles, maybe it is better not to put all our eggs in one basket. That is to say, it is better not to use only one analogy or theme as the route by which we approach biblical interpretation. If we do, we may miss something. The situation in theology is vaguely analogous to the situation with the wave and particle theories of light. Within quantum theory the two approaches achieve a reconciliation in principle. But some particular phenomena concerning light show more prominently one aspect rather than the other, and one viewpoint is frequently more useful than another for making a particular analysis. Similarly, in the Bible there is harmony between viewing God's relation to human beings as a covenant or as a father-son relation. But some particular passages of the Bible show one aspect more prominently, and one viewpoint may be more useful for making a particular point or noticing particular features of a text.

The use of multiple perspectives must itself be qualified as one approach among many. Within the body of Christ, different people have different gifts. Perhaps, because of our natural disposition or the background that God has given to us, we will use only one theme ourselves. We understand one approach better and we are more familiar with it. But we must be ready to listen to other people in the body of Christ whom God has gifted in other ways.

Hence, we are to listen to other people with other perspectives. Listening to people does not mean that we must tolerate whatever we hear or whatever someone else does. We are not to be complacent about sin or error. But we are not to be too quick either to brand something as sin or error, before listening enough to find out whether a complementary perspective may be involved. The earlier example of Arianism shows that we must sometimes draw a clear line. But the example of covenant theology vs. familial theology shows equally that we must not have a hair-trigger intolerance. Only growth in discernment, love, and knowledge of God's word will enable us to succeed more and more effectively in building up the body of Christ in the truth (Eph. 4:15-16; cf. Phil. 1:9-11).