Sunday, August 31, 2008

What do you think?

While I was studying for the GRE last week, I ran across an issue topic that's been running through my head ever since:

"In order to produce successful original work, scholars and scientists must first study the successful work of others to learn what contributions remain to be made."

In other words, as I research and write my thesis, my main objective should be to discern areas that have been overlooked or questions that have not been answered. Realistically, of course, you need to have an idea or area already in mind, and then look to see if there are holes to be filled in that area or with that idea. So you must start at least with a tentative direction and not with an exhaustive--and exhausting!--review of an entire body of literature. Then you can look for weak spots or holes that you think you can address in an original and thought-provoking way.

This general idea strikes a chord with me, both in terms of guiding my research and in terms of how I present my research (rationale for the method and topic, especially). What's curious to me is that no one I've spoken with has couched academic contributions in this manner. Instead, it seems that the underlying idea is just to present your take on something and hope someone else jumps on it as a timely or brilliant piece of work (hopefully, both!). In retrospect, this approach seems incredibly un-strategic (is that even a word?) and not a terribly efficient approach to something that's going to swallow a good part of your life, be it thesis or dissertation. The thought of jumping into such a project without some strategic thinking suddenly gives me the chills!

All I can think is that I've stumbled onto a basic principle that either everyone knows and doesn't talk about (because they assume everyone knows), or I've just discovered the way people should have been thinking about research and presentation all along! What do you think?

Saturday, August 30, 2008

School is here!

This fall is starting off with a bang: Greek began once more at 8am for all my poor bleary-eyed undergrads last week, and classes begin for me the following week. On top of that, I took the GRE this morning (it wasn't required for seminary, but it is for my application to doctoral programs--so nice to have it out of the way!), and am still trying to finish the first chapter of my thesis in the midst of the usual round of frantic before-the-semester-really-gets-under-sway meetings this coming week. It's been busy, though I hope with the GRE out of the way, I'll be able to focus more on my thesis and maybe (!) post some thoughts over the next few days.

With that in mind, I wish all of you a relaxing Labor Day weekend, an oasis in the flurry of fall beginnings!

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Symbols and Symbolic Language

Ben Witherington, in his Christology of Jesus, writes that kingdom is not a symbol in itself because symbols point to something else, and so refer to something external to the symbol itself (194). Instead, he says that kingdom kingdom of God "refers" to another set of ideas, but does not symbolize them (195). It appears that part of his concern here is to take the kingdom out of the abstract and affirm its present, dynamic reality. Also, he is intent on affirming that the kingdom of God embodies the concepts it refers to, so that these are not concepts outside of itself that it somehow abstractly "stands for." His definitions of an external referent (see above), and what I suppose he would call an internal referent clarify this rather complex distinction.

Something to think on as I determine what sort of language I'll use when I describe Matthew's use of kingdom of Heaven later this fall.

The Evolution of Symbols

Recently I've been reading Norman Perrin's Jesus and the Language of the Kingdom. His material on symbolic language is what drew me to his work. I'm not convinced by his designation of "steno" and "tensive" symbols, though. According to the authorities, a steno symbol is one that is static, and its meaning does not change. A tensive symbol is dynamic, and the meaning of the symbol may change over time or in usage.

It seems that such a distinct breakdown is unrealistic, not to mention anachronistic for the first century, as Witherington notes. Language is inherently fluid, and when the meanings of regular words are subverted for rhetorical impact or just for fun, symbols are even more subject to subversion, because a symbol is so much more profound than a description or synonym. A symbol may hold a set meaning until a gifted orator subverts its meaning for his own agenda, or until political, social, or even natural events cause a shift in emphasis and, over time, meaning.

However, a valuable contribution Perrin has made is that he has recognized--and drawn attention to--the dynamic nature of symbols (though he would admit to only certain symbols changing). Their ability and, I think, their tendency to change has implications, then, on how we approach symbolic language and even on how we interpret the author's message and intent.

Practically speaking, this means that the individual contexts in which a symbol is used should have a significant role in determining the meaning of the symbol, in tracing the author's argument through his development of the symbol, and in discussing the impact of the text (how the audience would perceive it). The context in which the author uses the symbol reveals a lot about the message he is trying to communicate--both in the specific instance and throughout the text--which in turn reveals a lot about the author's view of reality and his theology, and opens new venues for considering the author's purpose and rhetorical strategy.

For example, Ezekiel's use of Temple imagery, or Jeremiah's use of covenant, Paul's use of "Gentile" or "Israel" . . . anybody interested?

I'm back!

Sorry for the unannounced hiatus, folks. A few days after my last post it was forcibly born in on me that I was badly burned out. I took a vacation--first I've taken in well over two years, and in that time I've had a baby, started work on my thesis, taught two semesters of Greek, and finished over half of my M.Div. It's amazing how tired you discover you are when you finally admit it! Still am, actually, but I'm ready to go again. I'll give you an update over the next day or two of the past month, and all the exciting thesis- and Ph.D.-related things that have been going on. It's good to be back!