I grew up with the vague idea that somehow the Old
Testament and the New Testament were related. They had to right? Because they are
in the Bible, and if they were not connected, why place them together? Then I was
introduced to the idea of Biblical Theology, which argues that the Bible has a
unified story: God progressively working to redeem his people, his actions
culminating in the Person and Work of Jesus. Another important understanding is
that because God’s revelation is progressive, Jesus’ coming changes the way we
look at certain things in the Old Testament.
I adopted
this approach as I read the Old Testament, which in practice meant that many characters
and scenes had typological significance instead of having a more general moralistic
application. Also, the link between the Old and the New Testaments became more
firmly established. For example, the story of David and Goliath is often
applied as challenging and encouraging us (the readers) to be like David in
trusting in God to defeat adversity. However, according to Biblical Theology,
we are the Israelites, trembling and helpless against the enemy, and David is a
type of Christ. His act of saving
the Israelites points to Jesus’ act of saving humankind from sin.
However,
this might present problems (of which I hope to engage more in a separate post),
one of which is (I think) this: that we are reading into the text (specifically
the Old Testament) meanings that were not intended by the original authors. Vaughan
Roberts suggests that ‘we need to let each Old Testament passage speak in its own
right before we consider how it points to Christ1.’ So I think that as
I try to understand an Old Testament passage and attempt to make its connection
to Christ, I need to seriously engage with the text, in its contexts, on its
own terms.
Sorry for
the delay but I finally reach my main point. I think that Prof. Moberly (he is
my Old Testament module lecturer) does precisely that in his book The Theology of the Book of Genesis (ISBN:
9780521685382). He looks specifically at Genesis, starting with a broad
overview of its literature and how one approaches the book, then focuses on
passages that have been hotly debated. What characterizes his work is that he
does not force his own interpretations on the reader. Instead, most chapters first
examine the views of other scholars on the discussed passage and then offers a different
viewpoint before presenting Moberly’s own understanding of the text.
He writes
the book from an academic framework, albeit constructed within a Christian frame
of reference – something different from what I was previously exposed to. Thus,
reading this book is akin to being part of a theological discussion on Genesis.
We as readers are practicing theology, which he defines as ‘not a once-for-all
exercise in finding the right words and/or deeds, but rather a continuing and
ever-repeated attempt to articulate what a faithful understanding and use of
the biblical text might look like in the changing circumstances of life’ (p.
19).
In a
gentle way, he challenges us to look beyond our presuppositions, to suspend the
preconceptions we always have towards something (in this case the Bible or a
particular passage in it) and engage with the text on its own terms. Certainly my
understanding of Genesis has been somewhat altered, and more questions have to
be asked. I am now less certain about the theology of Genesis but I do not think
it is an issue.
Now, problematic
or seemingly insignificant material can be heuristic in any Christian’s attempt
to understand Genesis, and consequently, the Bible. We just need to ask the
right questions.
1. Vaughan Roberts, God’s Big
Picture (Nottingham: IVP, 2009), p. 165.
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