Thursday, March 31, 2011

Semantical Hermeneutics

It's been awhile since I've written, and that is mostly because I need to read George Ladd's book recommended to me by Scott before I can really continue with my thoughts on the gospel.

I confess I've also been distracted by the furor over Rob Bell's latest book Love Wins. Having not read it, I won't offer any real opinions here on the book itself. I'm more interested in looking at an interpretive framework used by some in the universal reconciliation camp to avoid traditional Scriptural interpretations.

I term this a semantical hermeneutic, although I suppose any term that means, "An interpretive method based heavily on the meanings of words" will do. At the outset, I should say that I think semantics (the two-dollar word for "meaning") are important to understanding a passage. After all, words actually mean something, and we should be able to rely on those meanings to help us understand what an author is writing. You're doing that right now (probably on several levels).

The issue with an overly semantical hermeneutic is that it tends to ignore contextual clues when looking at a passage by assuming that the meaning of words is more important than the context for understanding authorial intent. Semantics and context usually co-exist in some kind of a feedback loop: semantics reinforce the context and vice versa. The meaning of a passage, then, is a combination of what the words mean and what the context suggests that they mean.

Adapting an example from Carson's Exegetical Fallacies, we can use the sentence "This house is the pits" to illustrate. Anyone familiar with American English idiom (this is context!) will understand what the sentence is communicating: the house is undesirable.

If we apply an overly semantic hermeneutic, we can easily obscure the obvious meaning. "Pits" is a word with a fairly wide semantic range, i.e., it can assume a number of meanings.

For example, "pit" could refer to a large hole in the ground (e.g., used to hold hostages, excrement, or garbage), the casing of seeds in certain varieties of fruit, where the orchestra sits, or the place where cars refuel while racing. (We could come up with more, but these will do.)

Subjecting the original sentence to such a semantic analysis could lead us in a variety of directions. For example, common to some of the definitions is the idea of a hole in the ground. Indeed, this seems the most common use of the word, so probably the sentence is talking about a house that is somewhere in the ground.

Now this may seem a little unlikely, but historical data show that sometimes people actually lived in these kind of homes, so perhaps the phrase really references a sort of dug out house. If we look at other historical data (allowing for some legendary information to creep in over time), we may extrapolate that such homes were once common and even comfortable and nice to live in. Indeed, while one wouldn't want to appear too confident, who could say whether this particular house is not, in fact, Bag End? (Those of you who are fond the definite article—which, it must be said, is quite significant in Greek and Hebrew—may argue thusly because it is "the" pits and not just "pits.")


This sort of reasoning is obviously foolish, and it is written in such a way to emphasize the point. Clearly "This house is the pits" does not mean "This house is Bag-End." But something very similar happens when reading the Bible. We find arguments that rely on the meanings of words coupled with some valid historical data.

Taking a page from recent conversations concerning eternal punishment in Matthew 25:46, we may find logic that runs a bit like this: (1) the word for eternal here has a very wide range of meanings, some of which are finite in duration if lengthy; (2) the word for punishment may connote corrective punishment instead of penal judgment. Suddenly, "eternal punishment" as translated in your Bible looks more like, "Lengthy corrective chastisement" instead of "eternal conscious torture."

I acknowledge that the word for eternal does in fact have a wide semantic range, and that the word for punishment is historically attested (by Aristotle, no less) to connote remedial punishment rather than penal justice. In fact, I think any serious student of the Scripture would agree that these words can present some rather interesting problems of translation.

The real difficulty here, though, is that the meanings of those words are not the only indicators of meaning in the passage itself. The context of the passages, like the preceding parables and Jesus' comments on the judgment—in particular, his reference to the Flood—all recommend a reading that aligns with a more traditional perspective on hell. For example, it is difficult to believe that the phrase, "cut him asunder" in Mt 24:51 is a conciliatory punishment. Or that weeping and gnashing of teeth (the latter understood to speak of anguish and anger) are the results of loving chastisement. It is hard to see in the Flood any sort of offer of peace and reconciliation.

To get around these problems, yet more semantic arguments may be used: perhaps weeping connotes repentance, and the gnashing of teeth (instead of being angry) godly sorrow; maybe "cut him asunder" is a friendly idiom; and most creatively, we see Jesus preaching to those in hell (1Pe 4:6), and that passage specifically mentions the Flood—so maybe that's not speaking of an unending conscious torment in judgment.

I've also seen another semantic argument used to suggest that Jesus dividing the goats and sheep at the end of Matthew 25 is really just him dividing mature and immature believers; the latter group is sent off for some correction. One particular proponent of this view offered the opinion that this is what the people would have understood Jesus to speak of, as it was common cultural practice at the time. (Whether this is true or not, I don't know; no sources were forthcoming, but I suppose it's possible.)

This kind of reading, however, has some serious flaws. If a word has a wide semantic range, this does not mean that any of the meanings are equally valid or likely. In fact, a wide semantic range argues against this kind of reading precisely because the context is necessary to tell us how the writer and/or speaker intended to be understood. We may posit as a rule that the less precise the word used, the more likely meaning is going to come from context.

The meaning of "eternal punishment" is clarified by the examples shown in the parables and Jesus' references to the Flood. When this doesn't meet a theological predisposition, the universalist (or universal reconciliationist) is forced back to word meanings—without indicating why one reading is preferred over another. In some cases, the reading preferred is extremely unlikely (it is not possible to imagine "cut him asunder" is a friendly idiom).

In this respect, the semantic argument sinks under its own weight. It cannot be the primary driver of meaning unless the words used are so precise that they really cannot be properly understood any other way. (Yet this poses another problem: why should we deny a writer or speaker the privilege of using a word in a novel fashion? Again, the case should be made carefully, but it is not entirely out of the question.)

In some cases, the semantic argument is buttressed by historical context. In the case of the word for punishment, KOLASIS, Aristotle (ca. 384-322BC) distinguishes between two words for punishment and notes that this one is corrective or remedial in nature.1

This sounds pretty convincing. But it has its problems, too. The main one is that languages change over time.2 The Greek Aristotle used was not the Greek Jesus would have used (if he spoke Greek), and certainly not the Greek of the New Testament.

A small example may suffice to show this; let us compare King James and the ESV (2 Corinthians 1:12):
For our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation in the world, and more abundantly to you-ward.
For our boast is this: the testimony of our conscience that we behaved in the world with simplicity and godly sincerity, not by earthly wisdom but by the grace of God, and supremely so toward you.
In 1611, the word "conversation" meant "behavior," not "talking." So the ESV properly translates it this way. Some 400 years after the translation, the word is spelled the same, but the meaning has changed. Now Aristotle wrote at least 350 years before Matthew was written (accepting a fairly early date for Matthew). Assuming that the word is used exactly the same way is rather irresponsible, especially because there are contemporary sources that use the word in a different sense than Aristotle's.3

As a final comment, I would note that translation is not a matter of word substitution; one cannot read a dictionary, look up a meaning, and assume that he has translated a document. Translation is pretty difficult to do reliably, and I think we can be fairly confident that most of our translations are faithful to the original language within the bounds of the translators' goals (e.g., dynamic equivalence, word-for-word translation, et c.).

This is one of the reasons that I find an overly semantic hermeneutic so problematic. There is a sense that we can focus so heavily on the meaning of a word that we somehow obscure the context. The word's meaning is then backported through a mess of context—sometimes literally! Why should we imagine that KOLASIS means "corrective punishment" when the preceding text suggests otherwise?—without any real justification for doing so.

This sort of hermeneutic offends basic principles of logic and reading both. While universalism is kind of a current topic thanks to Mr Bell, I've had experience with this in other cases. A common form of this hermeneutic lends itself nicely to making doctrine out of prepositions!

Regardless, arguments of this kind really are not very persuasive, and they really shouldn't receive the kind of respect that they appear to. Respect should be given, of course, to honest and difficult questions about the nature of hell and judgment (of which there are many); but this sort of reading abounds with errors that have a veneer of wisdom and learnedness but ultimately fall flat.


[1] See Rhetoric, I.10. The phrase used is "Revenge and punishment are different things. Punishment is inflicted for the sake of the person punished; revenge for that of the punisher, to satisfy his feelings." See note on translation here. The original Greek reading is "διαφέρει δὲ τιμωρία καὶ κόλασις: ἡ μὲν γὰρ κόλασις τοῦ πάσχοντος ἕνεκά ἐστιν, ἡ δὲ τιμωρία τοῦ ποιοῦντος, ἵνα πληρωθῇ."

[2] Ironically, the universal reconciliationist makes similar arguments. The Greek word for eternal in Matthew 25 is AIONIOS. Another word, AIDIOS may be used. Evidently some have argued that its relative lack of use in the NT is because AIONIOS had evolved to cover the semantic range of AIDIOS from the time of the Septuagint, where it is more common. So at least some in the UR camp recognize that words really do shift meaning, although here they are arguing for stasis, just like they have to do in the case of the quote from Aristotle.

[3] Josephus connects the two explicitly in War of the Jews 2.8.14: "[The Pharisees] say that all souls are incorruptible, but that the souls of good men only are removed into other bodies, - but that the souls of bad men are subject to eternal punishment." In Greek, "μεταβαίνειν δὲ εἰς ἕτερον σῶμα τὴν τῶν ἀγαθῶν μόνην, τὰς δὲ τῶν φαύλων ἀιδίῳ τιμωρίᾳ κολάζεσθαι."

In this case, you'll see that the view of the Pharisees was that the souls of bad men were subject to punishment (KOLAZESTHAI): eternal (AIDIOS) vengeance (TIMWRIA). It may very well be that KOLASIS does not immediately suggest the idea of penal justice while TIMWRIA does; but one cannot misunderstand Josephus here to say that the Pharisees believed what they did not.

In the same passage, he speaks of "rewards (TIMAS) and punishments (TIMWRIAS) in Hades," indicating perhaps a similar perspective of the torments described in Luke 16:23.