When we study the Bible, most of interpretation consists of asking and answering questions. The questions themselves arise from our curiosity over our observations. But the answers? Do you know where to find those?
The Most Important Place to Look for Answers
At this point, conventional wisdom lists a number of resources and reference works that ought to be in a Christian’s library. I’ll get to such a list soon, but don’t let it distract you from the better portion.
The most important place to seek answers to your questions is in the text itself. Some of you reading this find this conviction self-evident and obvious, and you have already made a habit of seeking answers in the text. But for many others, it will take more practice. Seeking answers in the text itself is a habit that must be formed, and sometimes bad habits are very slow to die.
For example, I recently listened to podcast discussing the creation account of Genesis 1. The teacher based most of his instruction on the proposition that Genesis 1 is in the form of poetry. His evidence for this assertion arose from the assessments of scholars, comparisons with other ancient texts, and his philosophical framework regarding eastern vs. western worldviews.
The problem was that he never supported his primary assertion with evidence from the text itself. Now I’m open to discussing the question of the genre of Genesis 1. And all of the external evidence certainly matters. But that which trumps all of the external evidence is internal evidence from the text itself.
- Genesis 1 does not present clauses in parallel lines like other Hebrew poetry does.
- Genesis 1 does not use similes, metaphors, or emotive language the way other poetry does.
- The Hebrew syntax of Genesis 1 uses verb forms and verb sequences standard to the narratives of Scripture. The same sort of syntax employed in most of the rest of the book of Genesis, which is clearly (and commonly agreed to be) made up of narratives.
Such evidence from the text supports a conclusion that Genesis 1 presents itself as narrative (even historical narrative), just as the rest of the book does. Now this evidence in itself does not guarantee that the events of Genesis 1 must be in a strict chronological sequence, since biblical narratives often rearrange chronology in order to communicate a particular message. But the evidence does strongly suggest that we ought to read the chapter as narrative and not as poetry.
Answers Addressed in the Text
So when your noble curiosity generates questions regarding your observation of the text (questions such as, what genre or text type is this?), your best instinct to cultivate is an instinct that searches the text itself for the answers. Search and search and search.
Let your questions drive you deeper into observation. Let observation and interpretation swirl round and round like a cyclone, in ever tighter loops.
You may be surprised to find how many of your questions can be answered within the text, if you only learn how and where to look. When such examination of the text becomes habitual, you will improve dramatically at being able to defend your conclusions and persuade others.
Answers Assumed in the Text
One obstacle for us today is when the biblical author assumes the answers to your questions. He wasn’t writing to you or me. He had his own audience. So he wasn’t trying to anticipate your questions, but those of his own audience.
This means that there is quite a bit of background information that’s not stated explicitly but nonetheless affects interpretation. For example, the author of Genesis 1 presumes prior knowledge of which “God” is the one engaging in the work of creation. Is it Yahweh, Astarte, Baal, Zeus, or last season’s winner of American Idol? Learning from external reference works about the author and audience of Genesis would help to clarify the answer to this question somewhat quickly.
For another example, comparisons to other ancient creation stories will yield great benefit. What makes this God in this story different from the Gods of Gilgamesh’s epic, or Enuma Elish? Some of these contrasts would have been obvious to those living in ancient times, but we can miss them on account of centuries of distance.
How to Determine When an Answer is Assumed
In the name of “the answer is assumed,” we run the risk of justifying just about any conclusion we can find in a reference work. How do we determine whether the answer is truly assumed, or we are simply importing it where it doesn’t belong?
This process isn’t a perfect science, but the key issue is: Do you have good reason to believe the original audience would have made this assumption? The more reason you have to believe that, the stronger will be the answers you find in reference works.
So ask: Would the original audience already have the necessary background knowledge? Would they have truly been familiar with this parallel text, cultural artifact, body of knowledge, etc.?
If so, then it makes sense to look up your answer in a commentary, study guide, or Bible atlas. We have a wealth of tools available to us today to help us get into the mindset of the original readers. Let’s make good use of them.
When to Let it Go
But if you can’t find the answer addressed in the text, and you don’t have good reason to believe it was assumed, you probably need to make like Elsa and let it go.
Resist the urge to close the knowledge gap simply with systematic theology, denominational tradition, or prior experience. Theology and tradition are important, but they fit best not while interpreting (answering interpretive questions) but while correlating (after determining the author’s main point). We must understand the present passage on its own terms, in light of its original audience, first, before we attempt to connect it to teaching found elsewhere in the Bible.
One exception to the principle in the previous sentence lies with certain implicational questions. Because implicational questions bridge the gap from interpretation into application, they often work best after we’ve determined the main point. So it may make sense to make use of reference works to help draw out those implications and stimulate our own reflection concerning them.
So how do we find answers to our interpretive questions? By shoving our noses back into the text for deeper observation. When further observation suggests that the answer would have been assumed and self-evident to the original audience, we’re then justified in pursuing external resources to help us better understand the mindset or culture of that audience. However, if we don’t have good reason to believe the answer is either addressed or assumed in the text, we’re best off letting the question go until another passage takes it up. There’s no shame in setting aside a particular question for a brighter day.