Showing posts with label Craig Keener. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Craig Keener. Show all posts

Thursday, October 14, 2021

The Healing Of Amputees, Nature Miracles, And Such Today

Sean McDowell recently interviewed Craig Keener about miracles, especially modern ones. Keener published a two-volume work on the subject a decade ago, which I've discussed at length, and he has a shorter and updated book on the topic coming out later this month. Here's a portion of the interview that discusses the healing of amputees and other modern miracles that people often consider to be of a higher nature (walking on water, etc.). For more about the healing of amputees, see here. Keener also discusses examples of miracles of the Biblical era that we don't see today. It's also worth noting that there are other ways in which the Biblical era is distinguishable from and superior to the postbiblical era in the context of miracles, and I get into some of those issues in my material on Keener's book. See this post in particular. Much of what happens with postbiblical miracles is connected to and dependent on the Biblical era, such as prophecy fulfillment and other miracles that affirm the Bible and the authority figures and events of the Biblical era in some way.

Sunday, July 25, 2021

Craig Keener And Michael Brown On Their Upcoming Commentaries

Michael Brown recently interviewed Craig Keener. During the course of the interview, both men talked about some Biblical commentaries they're working on, Keener on Mark and Brown on Isaiah. Go here for the beginning of that discussion and here for some further comments during a later segment of the interview. It looks like both commentaries are a long way from being completed, and Keener's should be a multi-volume one.

Friday, April 10, 2020

Crooked spirits

Steve recently posted an article from Craig Keener. The entire article deserves to be read, but I thought the following sections might be worth highlighting:

Ancient Christians accepted the reality of spirits besides God but believed that, in any confrontation, their God would readily overcome all other spirits not submitted to him. In the second century, the Christian movement often spread through exorcisms; it was considered common knowledge that Christians could cast out demons (Barrett–Lennard, 1994, pp. 228–229; Lampe, 1965, pp. 215–217; MacMullen, 1984, pp. 27–28, 40–41, 60–61; Martin, 1988, pp. 49–50, 58–59; Sears, 1988, pp. 103–104; Young, 1988, pp. 107–108).

Tertullian (c. 155–c. 225) even challenged the church’s persecutors to bring demonized people to Christian court hearings; the demon will always submit, he insisted, or if not, the court should feel free to execute the Christian as a fake (Apology 23.4–6)! Tertullian lists prominent pagans whom Christians had cured from evil spirits (Tertullian Ad Scapulam 4, in Kelsey, 1973, pp. 136–137). In the fourth century, exorcisms and miracles are the most frequently listed reason for conversion to Christianity (MacMullen, 1984, pp. 61–62). Augustine reports affidavits attesting effective exorcisms (City of God 22.8; Confessions 9.7.16; Herum, 2009, pp. 63–65).

Still, a divide in cultural assumptions remains (see Acolatse, 2018; Mchami, 2001, p. 17). For example, residents of the Peruvian jungle, exposed for the first time to the Gospel of Mark, dismissed their Western translator’s rejection of real demons, noting that it comported with their local reality (Escobar, 2002, p. 86).

[...]

Many early Presbyterian missionaries to Korea had learned in seminary that spirits were not real, but most came to believe otherwise in the context of ministry alongside indigenous believers (Kim, 2011, pp. 270–273). My own experiences in Africa and those of my family (my wife is Congolese) have forced me to grapple with some hostile spiritual realities to which I would rather not have been exposed (Keener, 2011, pp. 852–856).

[...]

David Van Gelder, then a professor of pastoral counseling at Erskine Theological Seminary, rejects most claims of possession (1987, p. 160), but encountered a case that he could explain no other way. When a young man involved with the occult began “snarling like an animal,” nails attaching a crucifix to the wall melted, dropping the hot crucifix to the floor. A minister invited the young man to declare, “Jesus Christ, son of God,” but when he began to repeat this, the young man’s voice and facial expressions suddenly changed. “You fools,” he retorted, “he can’t say that.” Finally the group decided that he required exorcism, and calling on Jesus, managed to cast the spirit out (Van Gelder, 1987, pp. 151–154). Van Gelder observes that all the mental health professionals present agreed that the youth was not suffering from psychosis or other normal diagnoses (p. 158).

[...]

Another psychiatrist, R. Kenneth McAll, offers many examples. He observes that only 4 percent of the cases he has treated have required exorcism, but mentions that about 280 of his cases did require exorcism. Consistent with Crooks’ expectations, most of these involved the patients' or their familys' occult practices, such as ouija boards, witchcraft, horoscopes, etc. (1975, p. 296) He notes one case where a mother’s successful deliverance from spirits proved simultaneous, unknown to them, of her son’s instant healing from schizophrenia in a hospital 400 miles away, and the healing from tuberculosis of that son’s wife (1975, pp. 296–297). Other cases include:

1. A patient instantly freed from schizophrenia through an exorcism that removed an occult group’s curse.

2. The complete healing through an exorcism of a violent person in a padded cell who had previously not spoken for two years.

3. The instant healing of another person in a padded cell, when others far away and without her knowledge prayed for her; her aunt, a mental patient in another country, was cured simultaneously.

4. A six-year-old needed three adults to restrain him, but he was healed when his father repudiated Spiritualism.

[...]

Power encounters appear in early twentieth-century indigenous African Christian prophetic movements (Hanciles, 2004, p. 170; Koschorke, Ludwig, and Delgado, 2007, pp. 223–224). They continue today where indigenous Christian preachers confront traditional religions (Itioka, 2002; Khai, 2003, pp. 143–144; Lees and Fiddes, 1997, p. 25; Yung, 2002). Many converts from traditional African religions have burned fetishes and abandoned witchcraft practices due to power encounters (Burgess, 2008, p. 151; Mayrargue, 2001, p. 286; Merz, 2008, p. 203). By addressing pereived local needs, power encounters have expanded Christian movements in, e.g., Haiti (Johnson, 1970, pp. 54–58), Nigeria (Burgess, 2008, p. 153, before subsequent abuses in exorcism ministries), South Asia (Daniel, 1978, pp. 158–159; Pothen, 1990, pp. 305–308), the Philippines (Cole, 2003, p. 264; Ma, 2000), and Indonesia (Wiyono, 2001, pp. 278–279, 282; York, 2003, pp. 250–251).

Such displays of spiritual power have proved sufficiently compelling that even a number of shamans who previously claimed contact with spirits have switched allegiances to follow Christ, whom they decide is more powerful (Alexander, 2009, pp. 89, 110; De Wet, 1981, pp. 84–85, 91n2; Green, 2001, p. 108; Khai, 2005, p. 269; Pothen, 1990, p. 189). Thus, for example, a prominent Indonesian shaman had allegedly murdered a thousand people through curses (others also attesting her success); but she claims that she abandoned witchcraft to follow Jesus after experiencing a vision of him (Knapstad, 2005, pp. 83–85; cf. p. 89).

Thursday, January 02, 2020

Mask or Mirror?

1. I'm going to comment on Lydia McGrew's The Mirror or the Mask (DeWard). This won't a formal review in the sense of a chapter-by-chapter synopsis followed by an evaluation. Rather, I'll concentrate on the gist of the argument, and the sections of greatest interest to me.

2. In this book, Lydia's principal foils are Craig Keener, Craig Evans, to a lesser degree Dan Wallace, and to a greater degree Mike Licona. 

It may be useful to classify them. On the pecking order. Keener is the preeminent scholar. Evans is a very capable scholar, but spreads himself too thin. He tried to bluff his way through a debate with Lydia on Unbelievable and committed basic factual blunders about the Gospels. 

Wallace is NT scholar and self-taught NT textual critic. He rose to greater prominence as a critic of Ehrman. 

Licona is a popular Christian apologist with a doctorate in NT studies. 

Evans openly repudiates inerrancy. Wallace is formally committed to inerrancy. Keener takes a largely historical approach to the Gospels, although he's a charismatic scholar with in-depth research on ancient and modern miracles, so while he doesn't seem to be committed to inerrancy, he is strong on the supernatural as well as historical components of the Gospels (and Acts).

Licona pays lip-service to inerrancy, but he talks out of both sides of his mouth, depending on the audience. His default position is to put little stock in inerrancy. Except when he's on the defensive, that's the position he naturally reverts to. 

3. Because some of these men are colleagues or move in the same professional circles, a buddy system naturally develops where they avoid public criticism.

In addition, NT studies can operate like a social contagion, where academic fads catch on and go unchallenged within the guild. 

An outsider may bring a fresh and necessary skill set to the debate. For instance, philosopher Peter van Inwagen is critical of the logically naive reasoning he finds in Bible studies:

Third, a really substantial proportion of the arguments the skeptics employ are very bad arguments. (For example: if one of the Gospels says that Jesus said thus-and-so, and if his having said thus-and-so was useful to the early church, then he probably didn't say thus-and-so.) 

Fourth, the arguments of many of the skeptics have premises that are philosophical rather than historical–that miracles are impossible, for example, or that it is methodologically essential to objective historical writing that it regard any miraculous narrative as unhistorical. These philosophical premises may be defensible, but they are rarely defended. And when they are–well, as a philosopher, I can testify that I have never seen a defense of them by a historical scholar that I would regard as philosophically competent. 

Finally, the community of skeptical critics is entirely naive and unself-critical as regards its own claims to objectivity. Its members regard the New Testament authors and the students of the Bible who lived before the advent of modern scholarship as simply creatures of their time and culture; the idea that skeptical twentieth-century scholars might be creatures of their time and culture is an idea that they seem not to have considered. 


I have few of the skills and little of the knowledge New Testament criticism requires…But I do know something about reasoning, and I have been simply amazed by some of the arguments employed by redaction critics. My first reaction to these arguments, written up a bit, could be put in these words: "I'm missing something here. These appear to be glaringly invalid arguments, employing methods transparently engineered to produce negative judgments of authenticity. But no one, however badly he might want to produce a given set of conclusions, would "cook" his methods to produce the desired results quite so transparently. These arguments must depend on tacit premises, premises the reaction critics regard as so obvious that they don't bother to mention them." Peter van Inwagen, "Do You Want us to Listen to You?" C. Bartholomew et al. eds. "Behind" the Text: History and Biblical Interpretation (Zondervan, 2003), 127.

By contrast, Richard Bauckham is a maverick who conducts his own independent research and arrives at concludes without regard to status quo scholarship. 

4. There's the question of Lydia's qualifications. She's polymath. 

She doesn't read the Gospels in Greek. While that's disadvantageous in one respect it can be advantageous in other respect. To begin with, many NT scholars aren't Greek scholars like F.F. Bruce, Bruce Metzger, Stephen Baugh, Colin Hemer, and Stanley Porter. They just get by. NT commentators are often unreliable guides on the nuances of Greek. 

In addition, a focus on Greek grammar can be a distraction when reading narratives. There's value in becoming thoroughly immersed in the plot, so that you internalize the narrative flow. That enables the alert reader to notice details and interconnections that might be lost on a scholar with an eye to Greek construction. I daresay that knowing the text of the Gospels backwards and forwards, insight and out, has made Lydia very sensitive to undesigned coincidences, among other things. 

There are different, complementary ways to read the Bible. Take the narratological approach inaugurated by Robert Altar and Frank Kermode. Because so much scripture consists of historical narrative and narrative theology, it's important to use more than one tool kit. Take John Collins, Reading Genesis Well

A neglected approach in Gospels studies is oral history. On the one hand this can involve informants sharing anecdotes with Mark or Luke. On the other hand, this can involve John dictating his reminiscences to a scribe. 

At present, NT studies approach the Gospels from an overly-literary perspective, as if these are carefully crafted documents to further the rhetorical and theological strategy of the narrator. 

5. The issue of inerrancy crops up in Lydia's book. It's become a slippery concept. There's a distinction between abstract inerrancy and substantive inerrancy. An abstract definition stipulates that Biblical teaching is inerrant. That, however, is just a blank to fill in. The definition in itself doesn't predict or select for the inerrant intention. Is a particular account in Scripture meant to be realistic? 

Traditionally, inerrancy is shorthand for a substantive claim. Framers have specific examples in mind. The moral and theological teaching of Scripture is true. The historical narratives correspond to real events and describe them in recognizable terms. The prophecies of scripture were delivered ahead of time. 

On a traditional, robust view of inerrancy, "inerrancy" typically includes historicity, apart from standard fictional exceptions like the parables of Jesus.

What is happening in some evangelical circles is splitting inerrancy from historicity. Inerrancy stripped of historicity. So we have proponents of empty shell inerrancy. 

6. Lydia's basic position is that given a choice, it's far preferable to have a narrator who makes innocent mistakes, little slips of memory, to a narrator who creatively misrepresents what really happened to make apparent events further a theological agenda. Where theology gets ahead of the reality on the ground. There's nothing underneath the theology but the narrator's imagination. 

It reduces the Gospels to historical fiction, like a movie adaptation based on a "true story". A historical core intertwined with imaginary scenes, speeches, and characters. And there's no way to distinguish which is which because the Gospels are the primary sources. Although there's corroborative evidence for the Gospels, these are the only 1C documents we have on the life of Christ, so there's no independent source to compare them to if the narrators indulge in fabrication and legendary embellishment. We can't get back to what really happened, because we have nothing behind the Gospels. 

7. A standing irony in the current debate is the overlap between Bart Ehrman's position and the position of the scholars Lydia targets. Ehrman himself views the Gospels as historical fiction, containing residual facts about Jesus along with legendary embellishment. He has no problem with the notion that Gospel narrators resort to rhetorical devices which sacrifice historicity for theology.  

8. On p10, Lydia delineates and defines what she means by fictionalizing literary devices. 

This is followed by a list of 20 actual examples from the scholars under review. Disturbing as these examples are, I think Lydia's larger point is that once you adopt this hermeneutic, then it has no brakes to slow the momentum as it careens down the Grande Corniche. Ever more scenes and sayings in life of Christ can be relegated to confabulation and legendary embellishment. The account is not a window into what happened, but into the narrator's imagination. 

9. Lydia distinguishes between achronological narration, where the narrator bunches materially topically, from dyschronological narration, where the narrator creates an alternate sequence, deviating from the original sequence, to convey to the reader that this is how it happened. 

By the same token, Lydia critiques the rubbery, equivocal way some scholars redefine a paraphrase, where it bears no recognizable resemblance to the original statement, whether verbally or conceptually. Where it's just the narrator's gloss, or the narrator writing speech for Jesus to recite, like a character in play. 

10. Another problem with this approach is that Gospel accounts frequently involve statements or dialogues embedded in a setting which supplies the occasion for the statements and dialogues. A particular incident gives rise to the conversation. Speakers respond to each other, in a conversation thread. 

But on the compositional device theory, was there a precipitating event that gave rise to subsequence statements and actions? Or does the whole thing unravel? Did the scene ever happen, or is the scene concocted to provide a backstory for a theological lesson? Are the speakers real participants or fictional mouthpieces? 

11. Lydia has a very useful section on the argument from unnecessary details,viz. 306-16. Her monograph isn't just a critique of the deficiencies in Licona et al., but here she begins to systematize a positive, but neglected line of evidence for the historicity of the Gospels. 

12. Likewise, Lydia proposes her own harmonizations. In some cases these may include her husband's harmonizations. This provides a counter to Bart Ehrman's dogeared list of contradictions. 

13. Lydia's position isn't primarily that we should reject the approach of the scholars in question between it leads to skeptical consequences. Her position, rather, is that the approach generates gratuitous skepticism unjustified by the historical evidence we have. These are bad solutions. Bad solutions obscure good solutions. And the effect is to divert attention away from multiple lines of evidence for the historicity of the Gospels. 

14. In the case of secular writers like Plutarch, Lydia makes what ought to be the obvious point that a mistake is often the most plausible explanation, rather than a compositional device. Speaking for myself, there's also the question of how seriously to take Plutarch. He's writing to entertain his wealthy patrons. So he's not a historian in the strict sense. We'd expect him to indulge in great literary license. How does humoring his clients make him comparable to the authors of the Gospels? 

15. The question of whether the Gospels are Greco-Roman bioi. Of the four Gospels, Luke is the only one who writes with any sense of self-conscious literary culture and tradition. And even that's not a style he sustains. As commentators routinely note, his prologue seems to be modeled on the LXX, but he doesn't maintain that rhetorical register. Either he lacks the literary ability to consistently write at that level or he else just doesn't care. He wrote the introduction that way to gain a hearing, but what he really cares about are the events themselves, so that interest quickly takes over. He's a part of this. That's what excites him. To see God at work. It's not a detached account. Luke is field missionary. It's a gripping experience.

Moreover, as commentators note, his style is uneven because he absorbs the style of his sources or informants. That shows you how close he is to his evidence. He doesn't put it into a blender to produce a smooth homogenous style. 

16. One question is whether the Gospels are even written in a self-conscious literary genre. Which comes first? You pick a genre and then shoehorn the material into the genre–or you write what you know about someone, which has the incidental rather than premeditated effect of prodding a biography? Consider oral histories in which the informant has no literary culture. They just talk about their life and experience. Or a reporter who interviews informants. It isn't in the first instance directed towards by a preconceived genre. Rather, they just set out to record whatever informants tell them. The genre will be the incidental outcome of the process. Keep in mind that none of the Gospel authors are professional writers. 

17. To the extent, moreover, that Gospel authors had historical and biographical models in mind, wouldn't OT narratives furnish more immediate precedents? All four Gospel authors were steeped in the OT. 

18. I'd add that writing has changed over the years. For instance, the Puritans have a choppy style because they didn't write everything out at one sitting. They wrote for a while, got up, did something else, resumed writing. Their writings often contain maddening digressions. But that's because they don't go through drafting process. Or just consider how long it took for Augustine to write The City of God. All the interruptions. 

19. Harmonistic debates over the number of angels at the tomb are complicated by the fact that some commentators don't believe in angels. They regard them as part of the genre, like the supernatural denizens of the Odyssey, Argonautica, Beowulf, or Dante's Inferno. So the whole harmonistic question is artificial or ridiculous if taken seriously from their standpoint. 

In addition, even for commentators whose abstract theology includes a realm of angels, how many have given much through to the nature of angelic apparitions? So this limits the harmonistic resources. 

Friday, November 08, 2019

Ehrman v. Keener

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vY4EWOf54pQ

Jaros is a frivolous, ineffectual moderator. No surprise.

I mostly listened to the Keener/Ehrman exchanges. Keener provided some useful pushback. Keener's views are well to the left of mine but well to the right of Bart's. 

The reason Ehrman generally dominates debates is because he's so pushy and aggressive, while everyone else is too polite to respond with the same forcefulness. Verbally, Ehrman is like a bully standing on the subway platform, who elbows his way onto the subway. 

Ehrman uses the idiotic comparison with oral poetry. Of course oral poetry is fluid because the point is to flaunt the bard's improvisational skills. That's not remotely analogous to the historical narrative genre. 

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

The deity of Christ in Galatians


[Gal 1:1] That Paul did not receive his commission from mere human beings (lit., from a human) but through Jesus Christ and God the Father (1:1) suggests that Paul understands Jesus as more than human (though Paul does not deny Jesus's humanity; 4:4). Both earlier and more recent commentators offer this observation.) That Paul assumes a shared understanding with his audience that Jesus is somehow divine appears in his letters' opening greetings…[v3] Prayers or wishes for a recipient's well-being were extremely common in ancient letters (e.g., 3 Jn 2). What is striking is the deity whom Paul and other early Christian writers invoke in these blessings: God, our Father, and the Lord, Jesus Christ (Gal 1:3). They regularly invoke Jesus as divine alongside the Father in a way that other works invoked deities such as Serapis. The praise certain fits Paul's Christology (e.g. 1 Cor 8:6, where "God" and "Lord" echo the Shema; Phil 2:6-11). C. Keener, Galatians (Baker 20:19), 50, 52-53.