One has to wonder if Foucault does not, at some point, fall victim to his own critique. (Not that I disagree with his critique of Hegel, mind you.) His attitude seems to be one that postmoderns have rightly left in the dust – namely, that we can possibly read history with no presuppositions or initial guiding principles.

Regarding your comments on the gospels and their different angles, occasional dissonances, etc. lending voice to one completed word – sounds very much like Eugen Rosenstock-Huessy’s point in The Fruit of Lips, or, Why Four Gospels?.

Regards,
Eric

PS – I hope you and your family are doing well!

Thanks for your clarifications as well. In some respects, I think we are in agreement; yet, I still get the feeling that we are not quite saying the same things and are still missing (and I’m not sure whether we are going to “connect” via these exchanges, as the intricacies of the discussion would require more lengthy conversations better suited for “in person” presence; I don’t mean this to sound rude in any way, but I’m not sure how much further we are going to get via this medium). At any rate, I’ll leave you with the following. What you describe in your first paragraph strikes me as a much later development of Christianity. That is, the clear coherence and ordering that you suggest (if I’m reading you correctly) seems to me to be a later stage of development in the Christian tradition.

Also, regarding what I say about the Gospel being a power that cannot be fully reduced to propositions, I am in no way giving an exegesis of Rom 1.16-17; rather, I am making an observation and drawing out implications as to how understanding the Gospel in its more “full-orbed” existential, even metaphysical reality impacts the way we view signs and their limitations.

When Paul discusses one of his basic themes of Romans (1.16-17), he says that the Gospel is the “the power (dunamis) of God for salvation.” It is interesting that Paul does not explicitly here define the Gospel as a message but as a power. If it is a power that can and does transform lives, then it seems wrong to *reduce* it to a mere a set of beliefs; it, like sin, is a dynamic force that is let loose in the world. In fact, I think what Paul says about Sin verses sins in Romans 5-6 is helpful in this discussion. That is, when Paul speaks of all humanity (Jews and Gentiles) being under the dominion of sin, he tends to use Sin in the singular and speaks of it as if a kind of force/power unleashed in the world. He even personifies Sin, referring to as an actor, making it the subject of verbs. Sin is an enslaving power. Rarely, do we reduce Sin in this sense (that is, what we inherited in Adam) to a set of propositions that one must believe in order for the reality of Sin to “have its way” in our lives. So why should we engage in and accept such a reductionistic view of the Gospel? (Clearly, the analogy is not perfect—no analogy is, but I think my overall point has been made). Of course we can present a coherent account of the Gospel, but my point is simply that to reduce the Gospel to a set of beliefs is both reductionistic and anemic, as it fails to account for the full reality. Signs of course reveal the reality, but they simultaneously conceal as well. That’s just the nature of signs, as I see it.

The Good news for the Christian and for the world is that the Christ-event (the passion, death and resurrection of Christ) defeats, undoes, and ultimately destroys the enslaving power of Sin, re-creating not only “individuals” but also making a holy *people* (ecclesial community) for God and re-birthing a cosmos (an allusion to Paul’s eschatological “birth pangs” of the present created order imagery in Rom 8). God’s covenant faithfulness (the “righteousness of God”, subjective genitive) is revealed in the cross, and as it were, solves the “theodicy problem” of how a righteous God can remain faithful to a rebellious people (first the Jews, who have a salvation-historical advantage in being possessors of the Torah, yet who failed to carry out their mission; then to Gentiles as well, who though outside of the covenant have now been brought near in Christ, who, as the telos of the Law, has torn down the dividing wall raised by Torah-observance-gone-wrong—that is, Jewish identity markers such as circumcision, dietary laws, Sabbath observance (J. Dunn)—all of which work against Gentile inclusion (cf. Gal 2-3).

I like what N.T. Wright says about the Gospel in What Saint Paul Really Said, viz., that the gospel is not a “system of how people get saved”; rather, the proclamation of the Gospel and the power that it is “results in people being saved” (45).

Best wishes,
Cynthia

Thanks so much for your full reply, I understand with greater clarity your rightful concerns. I’m not actually trying to take things back to the issue of inerrancy. Rather, I’m uneasy speaking of “opposing theologies” which arise from Scripture. The NT speaks of “*the* faith once for all delivered to the saints” (where in context it seems that faith is the content of belief) or “sound teaching” (Tit. 2:1, where ’sound’ means something like healthy), to which the early church were to adhere. In other words, the apostles could speak of a Christian body of knowledge as a whole that was ordered in a right way, even if that “whole” was (i) embedded in a collection of writings with different genres, etc., (ii) has bumps that we find difficult or perhaps unable to smooth out. But the whole (or unit) had a centre (the gospel) and could be summarised in “sound words” as well as basic creedal statements (1 Cor. 15:3). And of course this whole / unit is summarized in a set of signs accommodated to our finite and limited understanding, which can never confine the infinite God. Moreover, this “whole” will be explored in fresher and deeper ways in the life of the church. But nevertheless a “whole” it is.

Thus a (healthy) “whole” sits uneasily with talk of “opposing theologies”. Yes, from my limited perspective it may seem as I explore Scripture there are opposing theologies, which I’m unable to resolve. But critical to (i) the constructive work of theology, and (ii) a proper understanding of Christian belief and hence discipleship, is to recognize that these oppositions are *apparent*; the NT writings envisage Christian belief as unit–even if I struggle to see it. Real opposing theologies ultimately are meaningless precisely because they contradict.

You rightly raise the issue of the gospel being “power”, and hence our inability to pin it down and domesticate it. Yes, indeed the gospel is likened to dunamis, however, in context I’m not sure “explosive” is the appropriate adjective. It is the “power of God” whereby dunamis in its OT background most likely speaks of God’s ability to deliver his people from evil, hence Paul describes it precisely as the power of God “for salvation …”. That is, the power in mind here is the gospel’s ability to save people, not so much the gospel’s power to break free from our conceptual and sign-bound definitions.

As for a doctrine of Scripture itself to handle all of the above, let me recommend Steve Holmes helpful article in the latest EvQ which I read today about the different epithets used in the doctrines of Scripture between the US and UK, and the underlying reasons for this. (Being Australian I guess I fit nowhere here?!). It’s very helpful.

I’ve said too much already. Thanks for the interaction and again God’s speed in your study.

Pax tecum,

Marty.

I’m not suggesting dispensing with the PNC, but I am wondering more about how scholars (genuine Christian, believing scholars) are trying to hammer out a theology of Scripture that (1) has room for opposing theologies etc. that at the human level have no resolution and yet (2) in which Scripture is still authoritative and the message of Christ’s passion, death and resurrection still comes through loud and clear. Obviously, one would have to move beyond inerrancy. But if the Gospel is more like a power, a dynamic, explosive power (dunamis) that God has released in the world (Rom 1.16-17), then it transcends specific theologies and cannot be reduced to a series of theological dogmas (though it can be communicated via propositions in an intelligible way). This saving “power” or “force” is associated with Jesus’ death and resurrection and it also gets instantiated in the proclamation of the good news—that is, it is “translated” into the kerygma of the Christ-event. In so far as it can be translated into words, then it can be developed into, for example, a Pauline theology. But Paul’s theology is not equivalent to the Gospel, as the latter is more transcendent. Pauline theology does not capture (fully circumscribe in finite signs) the transcendent mystery of the Gospel (cf. my previous post on Williams’ and the limitations of signs). If this is the case, then conflicting propositions (what some would even label contradictions) would in no way destroy or hinder the dunamis that is the Gospel—“as if Christ would be ‘audible’ only in this mode.”

Best wishes,
Cynthia

Thanks for the thoughts. Yes, I have no problems with difficulties in harmonization–I certainly have some in mind. My concern is that facile harmonization (at one extreme end of the spectrum) can produce an equal and opposite reaction in the opposite direction of allowing for contradiction in truth. If we dispense with the law of non-contradiction then language becomes meaningless.

All the best with your exams.

Blessings,

Marty.

Keep in mind that I am very much in process with these issues and very much thinking out loud. On the one hand, I certainly do not want to say that ultimately the oppositions, dissonances etc. somehow escape or baffle God—certainly not—there is no truth outside God, as he is the source of all truth. However, is truth to be understood so flatly (so univocally), as a kind of unison voice or might it be conceived as polyphonic and manifesting itself in different ways in different historical epochs—as developing organically like a theme in a symphony which displays genuine continuities yet allows for new additions and manifestations? I’m not a NT scholar so I’ll have to leave more specific and complex examples to my NT colleagues out there. However, one issue that comes to mind is how to understand Acts 15 in relation to Gal 2. If we simply jump to a quick harmonization of these two accounts, then why doesn’t Paul appeal to the Jerusalem Council decision to shore up his position against Peter (when Peter pulls away from table fellowship with Gentiles). Also, doesn’t the addition regarding dietary laws etc. in Acts 15 seem completely out of harmony with Paul’s teaching? Aren’t those restrictions traceable to Lev and dietary laws for resident aliens? If so, that would seem to reinforce the idea of Gentiles as “second class citizens”, which Paul of course is vehemently against. There are a number of other more complex issues that are beyond my competency since this is not my field, but I’m sure that NT scholars could rattle them off with ease. So what I’m thinking through how might a Christian respond if there are competing and genuinely conflicting theologies etc. in the NT and if it is the case that the apostles participated in certain cultural biases of their day (e.g. slavery). This is about all that I have to time to offer, as I have exams this week and tons of grading to do.

With all good wishes,
Cynthia

Wonderful thoughts as I myself am re-reading slowly some Foucault (History of Sexuality) again. I fully agree that we must be careful not harmonize dissonances too quickly, if at all. And your point that certain dissonances are critical to the function and experience of Scripture is well taken. However, you speak of “opposing [...] theologies”. By this do you mean actual or seeming opposition? The latter, I take it, is both wonderful and necessary for epistemic humility. But it seems to me (and I could well be mistaken) if we allow for actual opposition we end up with Foucault; actual opposition is ultimately meaningless, seeming is not. Perhaps I’ve missed something?

Blessings,

Marty.