Saturday, May 11, 2013
Jesus the Liberator
Thesis: Jesus’ death needs to be understood historically and interpreted theologically for the benefit of believers. Horsley begins his assessment with some good, and some not-so-good thoughts about the Kingdom.
It seems his treatment on the whole takes seriously the “already,” but neglects the “not-yet” notions of the Kingdom of God. He rightly emphasizes aspects of the realized kingdom, and speaks against vague explications by scholars as simply the “rule of God”[1]. Furthermore, Horsley points out motifs of this realized kingdom in the gospel accounts: healings, “God’s liberating and restorative activity in the people’s personal lives” (181), likewise, the banquets, and exorcisms perform similar functions of kingdom demonstrated. On the other hand, Horsley fails to recognize that the kingdom has future aspects. The kingdom is certainly a liberating enterprise as found in Jesus’ practice and preaching and ministry (178), but could it leave the 1st century under Horsley’s assessment? Additionally, Horsley’s kingdom as liberating socially for people (190), while true, remains androcentric rather than theocentric. This can be seen also in his treatment of Jesus’ death. Historically speaking, Jesus was executed as a rebel (320-321), but this view alone neglects the theological/eschatological purpose of his death.
Sobrino, on the other hand, grounds Jesus’ death in good historical investigation, but shows no fear in moving into the theological realm to discuss its implications for people today, especially Third World Latin America. However, Sobrino is careful not to delve into the mind of Jesus in regards to the interpretation of his own death as expiation or some later theology of his death [2]. Rather he sees Jesus’ understanding of his death as hope in the triumphant kingdom (202). To answer the question why Jesus died, he first acknowledges the non-answer that it is in fact a mystery of God. At this point, however, he is willing to pull meaning from the early Christian understanding: sacrifice, new covenant, fulfilling scripture, etc. (223ff). Sobrino, doing theology in context, brings this discussion into the situation in Latin America labeling them “crucified people” (254-271). Solidarity, can certainly be found in identifying with Christ’s crucifixion (Gal. 2:20) however, caution should be employed to avoid claiming Christ’s work for the people.
[1] Richard A. Horsley, Jesus and the Spiral of Violence: Popular Jewish resistance in Roman Palestine (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1987), 167. (In-text citations from this point on).
[2] Jon Sobrino, Jesus the Liberator: A Historical-Theological Reading of Jesus of Nazareth (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1993), 201. (In-text citations from this point on).
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Miracles and the Kingdom of God
Thesis: Regardless of one’s hermeneutical theory, the miracles in the New Testament convey the message of the inbreaking of the Kingdom of God.
The point of the New Testament miracles (and also those today) were not merely a display of ability to suspend the laws of nature, they were to show the inbreaking of the Kingdom of God. This was certainly the case at the level of the historical Jesus (Mt 12:28; Lk 11:20) and the goal of the evangelists communicating this inbreaking to their various communities. As Wright states, “He never performed mighty works simply to impress. He saw them as part of the inauguration of the sovereign and healing rule of…God.”[1] The burning question remains, however, regarding the historicity of such events. The approach taken by both Meier and Vermes, in line with a Hirschian hermeneutic, both want to put off the philosophical/theological question of divine influence, and merely examine these events as historians, trying to assemble some “core” which does go back to the ministry of Jesus.[2] Meier certainly presents a compelling case using the criteria to support the miracle corpus at large, especially multiple attestation (619-623). Both Meier and Vermes rightly recognize that a person’s worldview will ultimately determine his answer to the philosophical/theological question.[3] Vermes presents interesting parallels to Hanina ben Dosa(115-116), however his theological presuppositions preclude him from seeing the purpose of Jesus miracles as demonstrating the inbreaking of the Kingdom. These presuppositions also lead him to conclude that Jesus was “Galilean hasid” who was inept in halakhic matters (118). While Jesus may have been cognizant of this paradigm and while the idea may have been on the minds of the evangelists, to conclude that Jesus was only this, is to misunderstand his self-proclaimed purposes, namely the Kingdom demonstrated.
Schillebeeckx’s approach is one based more on Gadamer. He is not as concerned with the historical level of Jesus so much as what the evangelists want to communicate by the miracle accounts.[4] This also reaches into our day, “…Jesus…healed…what does that mean for humankind” (181). Schillebeeckx may overstress the dualistic nature of the miracles accounts, but his overarching point is clear, they represent the time of salvation, realized eschatology (185), God’s rule visible on earth (189). The in breaking Kingdom is our take-away point just as it was for the first century audience.
[1] N.T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996), 165.
[2] John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew (New York; Doubleday, 1991), 617. (In-text citations from this point on).
[3] Geza Vermes, “Jesus the Jew” in Jesus’ Jewishness: Exploring the place of Jesus in Early Judaism (New York: Crossroad, 1991), 108-109. (In-text citations from this point on). See also Meier, A Marginal Jew, 509, 514.
[4] Edward Schillebeeckx, Jesus: An Experiment in Christology (New York: Crossroad, 1979), 181. (In-text citations from this point on).
Monday, January 14, 2013
Jesus the Feminist? Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza and the Feminist Hermeneutic
Thesis: Jesus was not a feminist, but an inclusivist with pro-women aspects. A resulting feminist hermeneutic is then valid and needed.
Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza presents arguments for a feminist hermeneutic that can easily be overlooked in the church and in scholarship because of our engrained patriarchal schemas. She makes many valid points. However, her feminist reading of Jesus should be seen as a valid subset of historical-critical interpretations, not as exclusively labeling Jesus a “feminist.” We can glean many important aspects from her presentation. She rightly sees value in the biblical text, albeit androcentric in its composition. Therefore, she does not go down the same road of Mary Daly saying that the andro-centrism “is the message and not just the container for it.” [1] She recognizes the revelatory importance of the biblical texts for the feminist position and thus wants to move from their andro-centrism “to their social-historical contexts” (29). By doing so she “[presupposes] the methods and results of historical-critical exegesis” (152). It is her subsequent reading and appropriation which are unique, though still valid, “the difference between a social-historical and a feminist-historical reading [is] not…in the interpretation of historical texts but in the perspective brought to such a reading” (142). Finally, her emphasis that a feminist hermeneutic is not just for the liberation of women but for the entire church (31) is to be appreciated.Rather than seeing Jesus as exclusively through a feminist lens, it is more appropriate to see him as an inclusivist with pro-women aspects, to which Schussler Fiorenza would agree. These pro-women aspects she describes as “critical feminist [impulses] that came to the fore in the vision and ministry of Jesus…[which] presented an alternative to the dominant patriarchal structures” (107). She rightly stresses that Jesus was indeed inclusive regarding the people who would not have belonged to the people of God; tax collectors, sinners, and prostitutes, among others. This is exemplified by Jesus’ associations with these people in table fellowship (121-129). Likewise, Jesus’ inclusivity can be seen in the parables (131). While the Jesus movement was certainly pro-woman (even including leadership roles (138-139)), it “offered an alternative interpretation of the Torah that opened up access to God for everyone [even expanding to the Gentiles] who was a member of the elect people of Israel, especially for those who because of their societal situation had little chance to experience God’s power in Temple and Torah” (141).
Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza, In Memory of Her: A Feminist Reconstruction of Christian Origins (New York: Crossroad, 1983), 28. (In-text citations from this point on).
Friday, October 26, 2012
Jesus: Existential and Political
Thesis: Because of Moltmann’s historical-theological interpretation of Jesus, he is faithful both to existentialist and political hermeneutics.
In Bultmann’s chapter on modern interpretation and existentialism, he first reminds us that presuppositions of interpreters always guide exegesis.[1] Bultmann demonstrates his own metacognitive ability by acknowledging that his exegesis is based on a separate philosophical system. While his existentialist hermeneutic may seem subjective, Bultmann recognizes the need to ground interpretation in good historical investigation (52). What makes Bultmann’s hermeneutic especially appealing is that meaning as existence is imparted to the interpreter (53), “my personal relationship with God can be made real by God only, by the acting God who meets me in his word” (59).
Soelle’s criticism of Bultmann certainly has its merit. She rightly questions whether biblical interpretation can be apolitical,[2] and, while she recognizes that salvation through forgiveness of sins concerns the individual (42) she accuses the existentialist hermeneutic as being reduced to only individual (42, 45). She accuses existentialist philosophy of doing exactly what Bultmann first warns against, not recognizing one’s presuppositions (B, 46; S, 45). While Bultmann may miss social aspects of interpretation, Soelle perhaps over-stresses these social aspects.
There is a key within Jürgen Molmann’s work that can reconcile this conundrum. It lies with his historical-theological Christology, especially seen in light of “pneumatological Christology.” For Moltmann, understanding the Spirit as defining Jesus’ person and the agent of his power is most important.[3] The prominence of Spirit in Moltmann’s Christology is seen in Jesus’ birth and baptism (78-94). While acknowledging his a priori position of faith, he makes an excellent point that we are interpreting the history of living person, since Christ is alive today (75). Comparing Jesus and John the Baptist, he says, “[the] special feature of pneumatological Christology is its openness for the activity of the self-same Spirit beyond the person and history of Jesus Christ.” If we allow the comparison to reach into our present day, we can find the connection with Bultmann, as it is the same Spirit who works through the faithful believer to interpret the scriptures. Moltmann also recognizes the social aspects like Soelle and implications of Jesus’ life. This can be seen through Jesus’ association with the outcasts (112-116), “he is the brother of the poor, the comrade of the people, the friend of the forsaken, the sympathizer with the sick…” (149).[1] Rudolph Bultmann, Jesus Christ and Mythology (New York: Charles Scribner & Sons, 1958), 46,48. (In-text citations from this point on).
[2] Dorthee Soelle, Political Theology (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974), 42. (In-text citations from this point on).
[3] Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990), 74. (In-text citations from this point on).
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Evangelicals and Catholics: The Pope and the Bible
This post is also included in the Evangelicals and Catholics series as a way to disabuse many of my Protestant brethren of (or at least spawn more conversation regarding) the notion that Catholics are not interested in Scripture or scripturally based theological inquiry.
Thesis: While using the historical method, the Pope feels free to move beyond it to theological interpretation, showing the epithets of Jesus to reveal his oneness with God, which has eschatological implications.
Pope Benedict’s hermeneutical stance is one largely shaped by E.D. Hirsch. He praises the historical-critical method and says that it is an indispensable tool[1]. This method can also be seen by his exegetical process in the discussion of the different titles of Jesus. However, he also departs from a purely historical stance and seems to incorporate Ricoeur-like ideas as well. For example, he emphasizes the position that what we have in the gospels is the “‘historical’ Jesus in the strict sense of the word” (xxii). Therefore, he is not interested in getting behind the text to find the “real” Jesus; he emphasizes that what we have is the text (the real Jesus). In addition, reminiscent of Ricoeur’s idea of distanciation he posits that “we can never go beyond the domain of hypothesis, because we simply cannot bring the past into the present” (xvii). The Pope wants to depart from strict historical investigation and move to theological interpretation which he rightly and poignantly admits requires faith (xxiii).The three epithets which Pope Benedict explores all serve the function of displaying the oneness between Jesus and the Father (homoousios) (320). His exegesis of these three epithets outline the orthodox position: conveying Jesus divinity be association and identification with the Father. In light of the other reading in this course, these titles also convey an eschatological meaning. By using the term “Son of Man,” Jesus reveals his true identity and conceals it in mystery at the same time, analogous to many of his teachings (324). For those who had ears to hear, the loud allusion to Daniel 7 would have carried with it clear eschatological meaning concerning “the coming kingdom of salvation” (327). Pope Benedict provides a great example of this by exploring the story of the paralytic (331). This works well with Wright’s notion of the “inauguration” of the Kingdom. The designation “Son of God” also performs the function of linking Jesus to Father (344), and also brought with it political implications, albeit yet remaining an apolitical system (339). The “I am” statements also “show the inseparability of Father and Son” (348) by screaming in allusion back to the burning bush episode (349). These three titles have roots in OT texts yet are fulfilled in Jesus “as if they had been waiting for him” (354).
[1] Joseph Ratzinger, Jesus of Nazareth: From the Baptism in the Jordan to the Transfiguration (trans. Adrian J. Walker; New York: Doubleday, 2007), xvi. (In-text citations from this point on).
[2] N.T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996), 191. (In-text citations from this point on).
Friday, August 31, 2012
Can a Text Mean What it Never Meant?
Thesis: Hirsch’s interpretive approach is more useful for interpreting Jesus because his methodological emphasis on honest historical investigation into the author’s permanent textual meaning gives a stronger foundation for the hermeneutical process.
Can a text mean what it never meant? For Ricoeur, the answer is in the affirmative. Ricoeur is certainly helpful in the way he describes the pathway of the life of a text. In the first stage he sees the discourse-event as immediately causing distanciation.[1] The crux of Ricoeur’s argument comes when discourse is written down, “what the text signifies no longer coincides with what the author meant; textual meaning and psychological meaning have different destinies” (R, 139). The goal of interpretation for Ricoeur then, is the decontextualization and recontextualization into a new situation (R, 139). This is what he calls appropriation, “to make one’s own what was initially alien” (R, 185). For Ricoeur absolute knowledge is impossible making appropriation over the distanciation of the text the only viable hermeneutic (R, 193).
Hirsch, on the other hand, asserts that there can be permanent meaning found in authorial intent. For Hirsch textual meaning does not change over time, therefore it cannot be used “creatively” to propagate a “specific viewpoint.”[2] He rightly points out that if textual meaning is changing, it does not free readers from historicism but “destroys the basis for agreement…and objective study” Of course the question with holding to a permanent textual meaning is: how does appropriation work? Hirsch deals with this by recognizing that even with a permanent meaning, the authorial mind could not have been privy to specific implications (H, 220). Hirsch’s discussion on verification provides the framework in which this hermeneutic would work. He recognizes that the interpreter can never be certain of a correct reading, but that he can show relative probability (H, 235-236) based on the criteria of legitimacy, correspondence, generic appropriateness, and coherence (H, 236-237). While this seems negative, it allows humility on the part of the interpreter to allow for correction from the greater community of interpreters.
[1]. Paul Ricoeur, “The Hermeneutical Function of Distanciation” and “Appropriation” in Hermeneutics and the Human Sciences (ed. J. B. Thompson; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), 132-133. (In-text citations from this point on).
[2]. E.D. Hirsch, Validity in Interpretation (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1967), 209-212. (In-text citations from this point on).
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Gadamer & Hermeneutical Theory
Thesis: Gadamer’s hermeneutical theory helps to explain various (yet still faithful) interpretations of the historical Jesus based on the concept of acknowledged prejudice and fused horizons.
The acknowledgment of the hermeneutical circle is key before engaging in a hermeneutical exercise. The interpreter needs to recognize that he has certain prejudices and fore-meanings that will influence how a text is to be interpreted. Without even knowing it, the fore-meaning can determine the understanding and go unnoticed[1]. Therefore, according to Gadamer, the interpreter needs to recognize that his horizon (of the present), needs to be fused with the horizon of the classical (the text) (258). The hermeneutical process is best accomplished in this intermediate area of horizons (263). This is the hermeneutical circle then, “not formal in nature it is neither subjective nor objective but describes understanding as the interplay of the movement of tradition of the interpreter” (261). Gadamer does not call for a rejection of one’s prejudice and pre-understandings (239), but he does call for a constant questioning (138) and re-questioning which spawns dialectical or true thinking (330).
The hermeneutical process laid out by Gadamer should never (and can never) take place in a vacuum. The example he uses from the legal system helps to shed light on this. The judge or jurist must always be interpreting the law in light of the context of the case at hand. The legal historian, on the other hand, tries to determine its original meaning and application with no legal case before him (293). Likewise, in regard to Jesus, it is important to note that theological interpretations of Jesus are always contextual (the horizon of the interpreter). Various interpretations of Jesus therefore can vary due to the horizon of the interpreter, yet still remain faithful to the historical Jesus, by creating a dialectal relationship with the horizon of the classic text and its effectual history.
[1] Hans-Georg Gadamer, Thruth and Method (New York: Seabury Press, 1975), 138. (In-text citations from this point on).
Thursday, June 28, 2012
NT Wright ~ Jesus as Prophet
Thesis: Because of a more comprehensive methodology, Wright more adequately presents Jesus as an eschatological prophet who inaugurated the Kingdom. The presuppositions of both Sanders and Wright certainly show through in each of their presentations of Jesus as a prophet. Sanders’ “historian’s” view seems reductionistic and lifeless,[1] while Wright’s position of faith presents a more orthodox understanding. However, even with their various presuppositions, Wright presents a more methodologically sound picture. Sanders’ fixation on Jesus’ actions in the temple is a cause for concern. While it is certainly very important in the life of Jesus, and John starts with this action (though Sanders only mentions this in passing), should this be the starting and central point for the interpretation of Jesus as prophet, as he says? (S, 61) Wright, on the other hand, evaluates other aspects of Jesus’ ministry (e.g. parables, mighty works, etc.) The merit in Sanders’ position lies in his rejection of Jesus’ action as “cleansing” (S, 66-69), and that Jesus would not have called for doing away with sacrifice (S, 64) though the wholesale jettisoning of “den of robbers” should be questioned. Sanders, rightly sees the symbolic nature of the action as prefiguring the temple’s destruction (S, 70). His ultimate flaw, however, is in advancing his position purely as a historian (S, 327). It seems he wants to psychoanalyze Jesus’ own expectations regarding the new temple to be delivered by God (S, 75) and the rest of the restoration of Israel (S, 226-227).
Methodologically, Wright seems to draw on more source material (the triple tradition) for his interpretation.[2] What Sanders has low on his list of certainty (S, 326), Wright highlights, namely, Jesus’ words and deeds as displays of the Kingdom. This is seen in Wright’s presentation of Jesus as an “oracular-leadership” prophet. Firstly, Wright rightly discusses the continuation of prophecy in Jesus day and that he modeled his own prophetic ministry after the OT prophets (W, 166-167). Jesus, by combining these two categories of prophets (W, 169), was doing something new. He blended eschatological teachings (parables) with symbolic actions (new exodus, healings, temple, etc.). The parables, for Jesus, were not only teaching tools, but signs of the Kingdom’s inauguration (W, 180-181). The “mighty works” were used by Jesus and seen by his audience as part of the restoration and the inauguration of the Kingdom (W, 191). Ultimately, by “the stories he told and acted out he envisaged his own work as bringing Israel’s history to its fateful climax. He really did believe he was inaugurating the kingdom” (W, 197).
[1] E. P. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985), 320. (In-text citations from this point on).
[2] N.T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996), 165. (In-text citations from this point on).
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Jesus as a Wisdom Teacher
Thesis: Because Witherington is more comprehensive in his methodology, he explicates a more adequate interpretation of Jesus as a wisdom teacher and eschatological prophet.
The immediate and striking difference between Mack and Witherington, aside from their conclusion, is their methodology. Mack’s championed value is found in searching for the earliest stratum of Q to get to the earliest picture of Jesus, while Witherington values the picture of Jesus found in the plurality of sources. Mack’s critique of the modern conception of what a cynic was is commendable [1] and his comparisons between Jesus and the cynic philosophers are intriguing (M, 115-119). This conclusion about Jesus is ultimately flawed. Reaching into the stratum of Q, while speculative, is a worthwhile exercise to aid interpretation. However, this task cannot paint a complete picture of Jesus. Just because material is early does not allow us to see a “complete essence of Jesus.” Likewise, other material in Q and the rest of the gospel tradition is not necessarily inaccurate. The rejection of the Kingdom as apocalyptic to cohere with Greco-Roman understandings of kingdom (M, 126) removes Jesus and the Kingdom sayings from their Jewish context. Indeed, equating him with a cynic philosopher does that wholesale. Ironically, Mack asserts that properly understanding the cynic philosophers is to see them as counterparts to the Hebrew prophets (M, 114). It seems that is a better starting ground for Jesus anyway.
Witherington’s portrait of Jesus as an eschatological prophet is more methodologically sound. Unlike Mack, Witherington is careful to keep Jesus in his Jewish context comparing Jesus’ sayings and parables to other Jewish wisdom traditions, “[the sayings] can be explained on the hypothesis that Jesus presented himself as a Jewish prophetic sage [drawing] on the…traditions, especially prophetic, [and apocalyptic]” [2]. Witherington also sees the need to implement the whole gospel tradition, not just Q, and to try to uncover the author’s meaning (W, 150) The authors’ and Jesus’ use of wisdom teaching then, provides the audience daily life comparisons to the “in-breaking dominion” (W, 164). Jesus’ takes various positions (positive or negative to the various subjects of the wisdom teaching (regarding traditional values) insofar as they meet his eschatological needs (W, 164). Ultimately, Witherington’s interpretation of Jesus is more adequate to explain the wide variety of data (W, 208).
[1] Burton L. Mack, The Lost Gospel: The Book of Q & Christian Origins (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993), 114. (In-text citations from this point on).
[2] Ben Witherington, III, Jesus the Sage: The Pilgrimage of Wisdom (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1994), 158. (In-text citations from this point on).
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Is the Quest for the Historical Jesus Historically Possible? Is it Theologically Necessary?
This was a one page paper for the class Jesus and Hermeneutics at Boston College with Dr. Daniel Harrington S.J. Along with answering the above question, interaction was required with selections from Schubert M. Ogden's The Point of Christology, and John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew.
Thesis: Insofar as we have appropriately defined it, the quest for the historical Jesus is both historically possible and theologically necessary.
“If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins” (1 Cor. 15:17). This statement by Paul shows the theological necessity of grounding Christology in history. The need for a historical resurrection goes beyond the existential gleanings from vague “Christian-kerygma.”[1] As Ebeling put it, “if faith in him were shown to be a misunderstanding…the ground would be taken out from under Christian faith" (In Ogden, 50). Defining “historically possible” is important. Meier rightly highlights the distinction between the “real” Jesus, which, as with any historical figure, cannot be fully realized, and the “reasonably complete” Jesus, which is historically achievable.[2] The issue of sources, methodology, and historiography are thus to the fore. Contrary to Ogden’s position (Ogden, 54), the sources, primarily the four canonical gospels, do present an accurate depiction of Jesus, albeit laconic and with various theological emphases. Of course the intent of all of the gospel narratives was theological rather than purely historical, however, theologizing within a gospel account does not categorically discredit its historicity. In regard to the methodology of criteria: because of the extreme diversity of opinion among scholars regarding the use, primacy, and limits of the various criteria, it is safe to conclude that they cannot guarantee a pericope as either authentic or inauthentic; they can serve merely as helpful pointers that increase likelihood of authenticity. When they are used too stringently, however, they are limiting and exclusive. The use of criteria must be “more of an art than a science” (Meier, 184).
The philosophy of our collective historiography needs to be examined. Ogden rightly distinguishes between minimalist/maximalist (Ogden, 115), and a healthy middle ground seems to do a scholar well. However, Bultmann’s wholesale minimalist skepticism is most unhelpful, “we can know almost nothing concerning…Jesus” (In Meier, 28). At some point, there needs to be some level of trust in our documents that while theological are also historical. If this trust does not exist, we should not even bother with history, but the greater loss would be a futile faith.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Why Are There So Many Interpretations of Jesus?
Thesis: Various presuppositions of the interpreter have led to differing interpretations of Jesus’ life and purpose.
Rudolph Bultmann posits that there is no such thing as presuppositionless exegesis.[1] The reason Jesus has such a vast array of interpretations of his life and purpose is because the exegete; whether a modern critical scholar, or a first century zealot, comes to the task of interpretation with varying presuppositions. In The Shadow of the Galilean, Barabbas plays the part of a typical first century zealot. His presuppositions about what the messiah should be and do (overthrow the Romans) disallow him from accepting Jesus’ agenda. His strong sense of political (social) justice, both in terms of overthrowing foreign authorities, and reversing common poverty, is inextricably tied to violence. This precludes him from following Jesus, who falls short of Barabbas’ expectations with “evasiveness” and “want[ing] to take the gentle way”(89)[2] Barabbas’ presuppositions about how the Kingdom of God should function prevents him from understanding Jesus’ true inauguration of the Kingdom.
Andreas, struggles to interpret Jesus’ meaning for his own life. While he tries to be objective, he too wrestles with the purpose of how the messiah would function (139). To complete his commission, he portrays Jesus in existing categories in Roman thought; philosopher and poet. His personal struggle comes when interpreting Jesus as a prophet (138-139), which he conceals from the Romans. When standing on their own, all of the presupposed categories of how Jesus functioned, while true, end up being an incomplete picture of Jesus’ purpose. Metilius, the inquisitive Roman, also interprets with presuppositions; thinking that Jesus and the zealots go hand and hand. It seems he is open to Andreas’ apology but struggles with the implications of Jesus for the Laws of the Jewish faith (150-151).
The correspondence between Theissen and Kratzinger surfaces their own presuppositions, though they are more difficult to decipher in the limited and one sided exchange. Theissen, while trying to be objective in his work, recognizes that he has presuppositions influenced by his own historical context (153).
[1] Rudolph Bultmann, “Is Exegesis Without Presuppositions Possible?,” in The Hermeneutics Reader (ed. Kurt Mueller-Vollmer; New York, Continuum, 1992), 243.
[2] I use in-text page citations to save space, all coming from Gerd Theissen, The Shadow of the Galilean, (Philadelphia; Fortress Press, 1987).

